Luther's theses now found another assailant, and one stronger even than Tetzel, in the person of a Dominican and Thomist, one Sylvester Mazolini of Prierio (Prierias), master of the sacred palace at Rome, and a confidant of the Pope. He too, like Tetzel, based his chief contention on the question of Papal authority, and was the first to carry that contention to an extreme. The Pope, he said, is the Church of Rome; the Romish Church is the Universal Christian Church; whoever disputes the right of the Romish Church to act entirely as she may, is a heretic. In this way he treated as contemptuously as he could the obscure German, whose theses, that 'bite like a cur,' as he expressed it, he only wished to dismiss with all despatch.

Another Dominican, James van Hoogstraten, prior at Cologne, who had already figured as the prime zealot in the affair about Reuchlin, which he was still prosecuting, now demanded, in his preface to a pamphlet on that subject, that Luther should be sent to the stake as a dangerous heretic.

But a far more important, and to Luther an utterly unexpected opponent, appeared in the person of John Eck, professor at the university of Ingolstadt, and canon at Eichstadt. He was a man of very extensive learning in the earlier and later Scholastic theology of the Church; he was a sharp-witted and ready controversialist, and he knew how to use his weapons in disputations. He was fully conscious of these gifts, and made a bold push to advance himself by their means, whilst troubling himself very little in reality about the high and sacred issues involved in the dispute. He sought to keep on friendly and useful relations with other circles than those of Scholastic theology, such as with learned Humanists, and a short time before, with Luther himself and his colleague Carlstadt, to whom he had been introduced through a jurist of Nuremberg named Scheuerl. Luther, after the publication of his theses, had written a friendly letter to Eck. What then was his surprise to find himself attacked by Eck in a critical reply entitled 'Obelisks.' The tone of his remarks was as wounding, coarse, and vindictive as their substance was superficial. They aimed a well-meditated blow, by stigmatising Luther's propositions as Bohemian poison, mere Hussite heresy. Eck, when reproached for such a breach of friendship, declared that he had written the book for his bishop of Eichstadt, and not with any view of publication.

Luther himself, loud as was his call to battle in his theses, had still no intention of engaging in a general contest about the leading principles of the Church. He had not yet realised the whole extent and bearings of the question about indulgences. Referring afterwards to the rapid circulation of his theses through Germany, and to the fame which his onslaught had earned him, he says, 'I did not relish the fame, for I myself was not aware of what there was in the indulgences, and the song was pitched too high for my voice.' People far and wide were proud of the man who spoke out so boldly in his theses, while the multitude of doctors and bishops kept silence; but he still stood alone before the public, confronting the storm which he had aroused against himself. He did not conceal the fact, that now and then he felt strange and anxious about his position. But he had learned to take his stand singly and firmly on the word of Scripture, and on the truth which God therein revealed to him and brought home to his conviction. He was only the more strengthened in that conviction by the replies of his opponents; for he must well have been amazed at their utter want of Scriptural reference to disprove his conclusions, and at the blind subservience with which they merely repeated the statements of their Scholastic authorities. The arrogant reply of Prierias, his opponent of highest rank, seemed to him particularly poor. In confident words Luther assures his friends of his conviction that what he taught was the purest theology, that what he upheld and his opponents attacked, was a revelation direct from God. He knew too, that, in the words of St. Paul, he had to preach what to the holiest of the Jews was a stumbling-block, and to the wisest of the Greeks foolishness. He was none the less ready to do so, that Jesus Christ, his Lord, might say of him, as He said once of that Apostle, 'I will show him how great things he must suffer for my name's sake.' Luther's enemies in the Romish Church have thought to see in these words an instance of boundless self-assertion on the part of an individual subject.

From henceforth Luther, while pursuing with unabated zeal his active duties at the university and in the pulpit at Wittenberg, and taking up his pen again and again to write short pamphlets of a simple and edifying kind, occupied himself untiringly with controversial writings, with the object partly of defending himself against attacks, partly of establishing on a firm basis the principles he had set forth, and of further investigating and making plain the way of true Christian knowledge. He first addressed himself to German Christendom, in German, in his 'Sermon on Indulgences and Grace.' His inward excitement is shown by the vehemence and ruggedness of expression which now and henceforth marked his polemical writings. It recalls to mind the tone then commonly met with not only among ordinary monks, but even in the controversies of theologians and learned men, and in which Luther's own opponents, especially that high Roman theologian, had set him the example. In Luther we see now, throughout his whole method of polemics, as we shall see still more later on, a mighty, Vulcanic, natural power breaking forth, but always regulated by the humblest devotion to the lofty mission that his conscience has imposed upon him. Even in his most vehement outbursts we never fail to catch the tender expressions of a Christian warmth and fervour of the heart, and a loftiness of language corresponding to the sacredness of the subject.

In the midst of these labours and controversies, Luther had to undertake a journey in the spring of 1518 (about the middle of April) to a chapter general of his Order at Heidelberg, where, according to the rules, a new Vicar was chosen after a triennial term of office. His friends feared the snares that his enemies might have prepared for him on the road. He himself did not hesitate for a moment to obey the call of duty.

The Elector Frederick, who owed him at least a debt of gratitude for having helped to keep his territory free from the rapacious Tetzel, but who, both now and afterwards, conscientiously held aloof from the contest, gave proof on this occasion of his undiminished kindness and regard for him, in a letter he addressed to Staupitz. He writes as follows:—'As you have required Martin Luder to attend a Chapter at Heidelberg, it is his wish, although we grudge giving him permission to leave our university, to go there and render due obedience. And as we are indebted to your suggestion for this excellent doctor of theology, in whom we are so well pleased, ... it is our desire that you will further his safe return here, and not allow him to be delayed.' He also gave Luther cordial letters of introduction to Bishop Laurence of Wurzburg, through whose town his road passed, and to the Count Palatine Wolfgang, at Heidelberg. From both of these, though many had already declaimed against him as a heretic, he met with a most friendly and obliging reception.

His relations, moreover, at Heidelberg with his fellow-members of the Order, and, above all, with Staupitz, remained unclouded. Staupitz was re-elected here as Vicar of the Order; the office of provincial Vicar passed from Luther to John Lange, of Erfurt, his intimate friend and fellow-thinker. The question about indulgences had not entered at all into the business of the chapter. But at a disputation held in the convent, according to custom, Luther presided, and wrote for it some propositions embodying the fundamental points of his doctrines concerning the sinfulness and powerlessness of man, and righteousness, through God's grace, in Christ, and against the philosophy and theology of Aristotelian Scholasticism. He attracted the keen interest of several young inmates of the convent who afterwards became his coadjutors, such as John Brenz, Erhardt Schnepf, and Martin Butzer. They marvelled at his power of drawing out the meaning from the Scriptures, and of speaking not only with clearness and decision, but also with refinement and grace. Thus his journey served to promote at once his reputation and his influence.

On his return to Wittenberg on May 15, after an absence of five weeks, he hastened to complete a detailed explanation in Latin of the contents of his theses, under the title of 'Solutions,' the greatest and most important work that he published at this period of the contest.

The most valuable fruit of the controversy so far as regards Luther and his later work, and evidence of which is given in these 'Solutions,' was the advance he had made, and had been compelled to make, in the course of his own self-reasoning and researches. New questions presented themselves: the inward connection of the truth became gradually manifest: new results forced themselves upon him: his anxiety to solve his difficulties still continued.

Luther in his theses, when speaking of the call of Jesus to repentance, had never indeed admitted that the sacrament of penance enjoined by the Church, with auricular confession and the penances and satisfactions imposed by the priest, was based on God's command or the authority of the Bible. He now openly acknowledged and declared that these ecclesiastical acts were not enjoined by Christ at all, but solely by the Pope and the Church.

The contest about the indulgences granted by the Pope in respect of these acts, opened up now the doctrine of the so-called treasures of the Church, on which the Pope drew for his bounty. Luther, while conceding to the Pope the right of dispensing indulgences in the sense understood by himself, guarded himself against admitting that the merits of Christ constituted that treasure, and so should be disposed of by the Pope in this manner: the dispensation of indulgences rested simply on the Papal power of the keys. It was now objected to him that herein he was going counter to an express and duly recorded declaration of a pope, Clement VI., namely, that the merits of Christ were undoubtedly to be dispensed in indulgences. Luther, who in his theses against the abuse of indulgences had abstained as yet from propounding anything which might be inconsistent with the ascertained meaning of the Pope, now insisted without hesitation on this contradiction. That Papal pronouncement, he declared, did not bear the character of a dogmatic decree, and a distinction was to be drawn between a decree of the Pope and its acceptance by the Church through a Council.

How then, Luther proceeded to inquire, should the Christian obtain forgiveness of sin, reconciliation with God, righteousness before God, peace and holiness in God? And in answering this question he reverted to the key-note of his doctrine of salvation, which he had begun to preach before the contest about indulgences commenced. He had already declared that salvation came through faith; in other words, through heartfelt trust in God's mercy, as announced by the Bible, and in the Saviour Christ. How was that consistent with the acts of ecclesiastical penance, such as absolution in particular, which must be obtained from the priest? Luther now declared that God would assuredly allow his offer of forgiveness to be conveyed to those who longed for it, by His commissioned servant of the Church, the priest, but that the assurance of such forgiveness must lean simply on the promise of God, by virtue and on behalf of Whom the priest performed his office. And at the same time he declared that this promise could be conveyed to a troubled Christian by any brother-Christian, and that full forgiveness would be granted to him if he had faith. No enumeration of particular sins was necessary for that end; it was enough if the repentant and faithful yearning for the word of mercy was made known to the priest or brother from whom the message of comfort was sought. Hence it followed, on the one hand, that priestly absolution and the sacrament availed nothing to the receiver unless he turned with inward faith to his God and Saviour, received with faith the word spoken to him, and through that word let himself be raised to greater faith. It followed also, on the other hand, that a penitent and faithful Christian, holding fast to that word, to whom the priest should arbitrarily refuse the absolution he looked for, could, in spite of such refusal, participate in God's forgiveness to the full. Herewith was broken at once the most powerful bond by which the dominant Church enslaved the souls to the organs of her hierarchy. Luther has humbled man to the lowest before God, through Whose grace alone the sinner, in meek and believing trustfulness, can be saved. But in God and through this grace he teaches him to be free and certain of salvation. Christ, he says, has not willed that man's salvation should lie in the hand or at the pleasure of a man.

As for the outward acts and punishments which the Church and the Pope imposed, he did not seek to abolish them. In this external province at least he recognised in the Pope a power originating direct from God. Here, in his opinion, the Christian was bound to put up with even an abuse of power and the infliction of unjust punishment.

The whole contest turned ultimately on the question as to who should determine disputes about the truth, and where to seek the highest standard and the purest source of Christian verity. Gradually at first, and manifestly with many inward struggles on the part of Luther, his views and principles gained clearness and consistency. Even within the Catholic Church the doctrine as to the highest authority to be recognised in questions of belief and conduct was by no means so firmly established as is frequently represented by both Protestants and Roman Catholics. The doctrine of the infallibility of the Pope, and of the absolute authority attaching thereby to his decisions, however confidently asserted by the admirers of Aquinas and accepted by the Popes, was not erected into a dogma of the Roman Catholic Church until 1870. The other theory, that even the Pope can err, and that the supreme decision rests with a General Council, had been maintained by theologians whom, at the same time, no Pope had ever ventured to treat as heretics. It was on the ground of this latter theory that the University of Paris, then the first university in Europe, had just appealed from the Pope to a General Council. In Germany opinions were on the whole divided between this and the theory of Papal absolutism. Again, the view that neither the decisions of a Council nor of a Pope were ipso facto infallible, but that an appeal therefrom lay to a council possibly better informed, had already been advanced with impunity by writers of the fifteenth century. The only point as to which no doubt was expressed, was that the decisions of previous General Councils, acknowledged also by the Pope, contained absolutely pure Divine truth, and that the Christian Universal Church could never fall into error; but even then, with reference to this Church, the question still remained as to who or what was her true and final representative.

Luther now followed what he found to be the teaching of the Bible, so far as that teaching presented itself to his own independent and conscientious research, and as, traced home in the New Testament and especially in the Epistles of St. Paul, it shaped itself to his perception. But for all this, he would not yet abandon his agreement with the Church of which he was a member. The very man whom Eck had branded as full of 'Bohemian poison,' complained of the Bohemian Brethren or Moravians for exalting themselves in their ignorance above the rest of Christendom. A Thomist indeed, who to him was only a Scholastic among others, he fearlessly opposed; but still we find no expression of a thought that the Church, assembled at a General Council, had ever erred, nor even that any future Council could pronounce an erroneous decision upon the present points in dispute. Nay, he awaits the decision of such a Council against the charges of heresy already brought against him, though without ever admitting his readiness, if such a Council should assemble, to submit beforehand and unconditionally to its decision, whatever it might be. Above and before any such decision he held firm to the authority of his own conviction: his conscience, he said, would not allow him to yield from that resolve; he was not standing alone in this contest, but with him stood the truth, together with all those who shared his doubts as to the virtue of indulgences.

Still, while rejecting the doctrine of the infallibility of the Popes, it was a hard matter for Luther to reproach them also with actual error in their decisions. We have seen how necessity forced him to do so in the case of Clement VI. Towards the existing Head of the Church he desired to remain, as far as possible, in concord and subjection. It was not for mere appearance' sake, that in his ninety-five theses he represented his own view of indulgences as being also that of the Pope. He hoped, at all events, and wished with all his heart that it was so; and later on, towards the close of his life, he tells us how confidently he had cherished the expectation that the Pope would be his patron in the war against the shameless vendors of indulgences. Even after those hopes had failed, he spoke of Leo X. with respect as a man of good disposition and an educated theologian, whose only misfortune was that he lived in an atmosphere of corruption and in a vicious age. He was none the less assured of his Divine credentials as the supreme earthly Shepherd of Christendom, and the depositary of all canonical power. The duty of humility and obedience, impressed on him to excess as a monk, must, no less than the fear of the possible dangers and troubles in store for himself and his Christian brethren, have made Luther shrink from the thought of having actually to testify and fight against him. He ventured to dedicate his 'Solutions' to the Pope himself. The letter of May 30, 1518, in which he did this, shows the peculiar, anomalous, and untenable position in which he now found himself placed. He is horrified, he says, at the charges of heresy and schism brought against himself. He who would much prefer to live in peace, had no wish to set up any dogmas in his theses, provoked as they were by a public scandal, but simply in Christian zeal, or, as others might have it, in youthful ardour, to invite men to a disputation, and his present desire was to publish his explanation of them under the patronage and protection of the Pope himself. But at the same time he declares that his conscience was innocent and untroubled, and he adds with emphatic brevity, 'Retract I cannot.' He concludes by humbly casting himself at the Pope's feet with the words, 'Give me life or death, accept or reject me as you please.' He will recognise the Papal voice as that of the Lord Jesus Himself. He will, if worthy of death, not flinch from it. But that declaration of his, which he could not retract, must stand.



CHAPTER III.

LUTHER AT AUGSBURG BEFORE CAIETAN. APPEAL TO A COUNCIL.

The task that Luther had now undertaken lay heavy upon his soul. He was sincerely anxious, whilst fighting for the truth, to remain at peace with his Church, and to serve her by the struggle. Pope Leo, on the contrary, as was consistent with his whole character, treated the matter at first very lightly, and when it threatened to become dangerous, thought only how, by means of his Papal power, to make the restless German monk harmless.

Two expressions of his in these early days of the contest are recorded. 'Brother Martin,' he said, 'is a man of a very fine genius, and this outbreak the mere squabble of envious monks;' and again, 'It is a drunken German who has written the theses; he will think differently about them when sober.' Three months after the theses had appeared, he ordered the Vicar-General of the Augustinians to 'quiet down the man,' hoping still to extinguish easily the flame. The next step was to institute a tribunal for heretics at Rome, for Luther's trial: what its judgment would be was patent from the fact that the single theologian of learning among the judges was Sylvester Prierias. Before this tribunal Luther was cited on August 7; within sixty days he was to appear there at Rome. Friend and foe could well feel certain that they would look in vain for his return.

Papal influence, meanwhile, had been brought to bear on the Elector Frederick, to induce him not to take the part of Luther, and the chief agent chosen for working on the Elector and the Emperor Maximilian was the Papal legate, Cardinal Thomas Vio of Gaeta, called Caietan, who had made his appearance in Germany. The University of Wittenberg, on the other hand, interposed on behalf of their member, whose theology was popular there, and whose biblical lectures attracted crowds of enthusiastic hearers. He had just been joined at Wittenberg by his fellow-professor Philip Melancthon, then only twenty-one years old, but already in the first rank of Greek scholars, and the bond of friendship was now formed which lasted through their lives. The university claimed that Luther should at least be tried in Germany.

Luther expressed the same wish through Spalatin to his sovereign. He now also answered publicly the attack of Prierias upon his theses, and declared not only that a Council alone could represent the Church, but that even a decree of Council might err, and that an Act of the Church was no final evidence of the truth of a doctrine. Being threatened with excommunication, he preached a sermon on the subject, and showed how a Christian, even if under the ban of the Church, or excluded from outward communion with her, could still remain in true inward communion with Christ and His believers, and might then see in his excommunication the noblest merit of his own.

The Pope, meanwhile, had passed from his previous state of haughty complacency to one of violent haste. Already, on August 23, thus long before the sixty days had expired, he demanded the Elector to deliver up this 'child of the devil,' who boasted of his protection, to the legate, to bring away with him. This is clearly shown by two private briefs from the Pope, of August 23 and 25, the one addressed to the legate, the other to the head of all the Augustinian convents in Saxony, as distinguished from the Vicar of those congregations, Staupitz, who already was looked on with suspicion at Borne. These briefs instructed both men to hasten the arrest of the heretic; his adherents were to be secured with him, and every place where he was tolerated laid under the interdict. So unheard of seemed this conduct of the Pope, that Protestant historians would not believe in the genuineness of the briefs; but we shall soon see how Caietan himself refers to the one in his possession.

Other and general relations, interests, and movements of the ecclesiastical and political life of the German nation now began to exercise an influence, direct or indirect, upon the history of Luther and the development of the struggles of the Reformation, and even caused the Pope himself to moderate his conduct.

Whilst questions of the deepest kind about the means of salvation, and the grounds and rules of Christian truth, had been opened up for the first time by Luther during the contest about indulgences, the abuses, encroachments, and acts of tyranny committed by the Pope on the temporal domain of the Church, and closely affecting the political and social life of the people, had long been the subject of bitter complaints and vigorous remonstrances throughout Germany. These complaints and remonstrances had been raised by princes and states of the Empire, who would not be silenced by any theories or dogmas about the Divine authority and infallibility of the Pope, nor crushed by any mere sentence of excommunication. And in raising them they had made no question of the Divine right of the Papacy. Was it not natural that, in the indignation excited by their wrongs, they should turn to the man who had laid the axe to the root of the tree which bore such fruit, and at least consider the possibility of profiting by his work? Luther, on his part, showed at first a singularly small acquaintance with the circumstances of their complaints, and seemed hardly aware of the loud protests raised so long on this subject at the Diets. But with the question of indulgences the field of his experience broadened in this respect. The care he evinced in this matter for the care of souls and true Christian morality made him the ally of all those who were alarmed at the vast export of money to Rome, about which he had already said in his theses that the Christian sheep were being regularly fleeced.

In another respect, also, the ecclesiastical policy of the Papal see was closely interwoven with the political condition and history of Germany. If in theory the Pope claimed to control and confirm the decrees even of the civil power, in practice he at least attempted to assert and maintain an omnipresent influence. And with regard to Germany it was all-important to him that the Empire should not become so powerful as to endanger his authority in general and his territorial sovereignty in Italy. However loftily the Popes in their briefs proclaimed their immutable rights, derived from God, and their plenary power, and took care to let theologians and jurists advance such pretensions, they understood clearly enough in their practical conduct to adjust those relations to the rules of political or diplomatic necessity.

In the summer of 1518 a Diet was held at Augsburg, at which the Papal legate attended. The Pope was anxious to obtain its consent to the imposition of a heavy tax throughout the Empire, to be applied ostensibly for the war against the Turks, but alleged to be wanted in reality for entirely other objects. The Emperor Maximilian, now old and hastening to his end, was endeavouring to secure the succession of his grandson Charles, and Caietan's chief task was to exert his influence with Maximilian and the Elector Frederick to bring Luther into their disfavour. The Archbishop Albert, who had been hit so hard by Luther's attack on the traffic in indulgences, was solemnly proclaimed Cardinal by order of the Pope.

Of Maximilian it might fairly have been expected that, after his many experiences and contests with the Popes, he would at least protect Luther from the worst, however unlikely it might be that he should entertain the idea of effecting, by his help, a great reform in the National Church. He did indeed express his wish to Pfeffinger, a counsellor of the Elector, that his prince should take care of the monk, as his services might some day be wanted. But he supported the Pope in the matter of the tax, and hoped to gain him for his own political ends. He opposed Luther also in his attack on indulgences, on the ground that it endangered the Church, and that he was resolved to uphold the action taken by the Pope.

This demand for a tax, however, was received with the utmost disfavour both by the Diet and the Empire; and a long-cherished bitterness of feeling now found expression. An anonymous pamphlet was circulated, from the pen of one Fischer, a prebendary of Wiirzburg, which bluntly declared that the avaricious lords of Rome only wished to cheat the 'drunken Germans,' and that the real Turks were to be looked for in Italy. This pamphlet reached Wittenberg and fell into the hands of Luther, whom now for the first time we hear denouncing 'Roman cunning,' though he only charged the Pope himself with allowing his grasping Florentine relations to deceive him. The Diet seized the opportunity offered by this demand for a tax, to bring up a whole list of old grievances; the large sums drawn from German benefices by the Pope under the name of annates, or extorted under other pretexts; the illegal usurpation of ecclesiastical patronage in Germany, the constant infringement of concordats, and so on. The demand itself was refused, and in addition to this, an address was presented to the Diet from the bishop and clergy of Liege, inveighing against the lying, thieving, avaricious conduct of the Romish minions, in such sharp and violent tones that Luther, on reading it afterwards when printed, thought it only a hoax, and not really an episcopal remonstrance.

This was reason enough why Caietan, to avoid increasing the excitement, should not attempt to lay hands on the Wittenberg opponent of indulgences. The Elector Frederick, from whose hands Caietan would have to demand Luther, was one of the most powerful and personally respected princes of the Empire, and his influence was especially important in view of the election of a new Emperor. This prince went now in person to Caietan on Luther's behalf, and Caietan promised him, at the very time that the brief was on its way to him from Rome, that he would hear Luther at Augsburg, treat him with fatherly kindness, and let him depart in safety.

Luther accordingly was sent to Augsburg. It was an anxious time for himself and his friends when he had to leave for that distant place, where the Elector, with all his care, could not employ any physical means for his protection, and to stand accused as a heretic before that Papal legate who, from his own theological principles, was bound to condemn him, Caietan being a zealous Thomist like Prierias, and already notorious as a champion of indulgences and Papal absolutism. 'My thoughts on the way,' said Luther afterwards, 'were now I must die; and I often lamented the disgrace I should be to my dear parents.'

He went thither in humble garb and manner. He made his way on foot till within a short distance of Augsburg, when illness and weakness overcame him, and he was forced to proceed by carriage. Another younger monk of Wittenberg accompanied him, his pupil Leonard Baier. At Nuremberg he was joined by his friend Link, who held an appointment there as preacher. From him he borrowed a monk's frock, his own being too bad for Augsburg. He arrived here on October 7.

The surroundings he now entered, and the proceedings impending over him, were wholly novel and unaccustomed. But he met with men who received him with kindness and consideration; several of them were gentlemen of Augsburg favourable to him, especially the respected patrician, Dr. Conrad Peutinger, and two counsellors of the Elector. They advised him to behave with prudence, and to observe carefully all the necessary forms, to which as yet he was a stranger.

Luther at once announced his arrival to Caietan, who was anxious to receive him without delay. His friends, however, kept him back until they had obtained a written safe-conduct from the Emperor, who was then hunting in the environs. In the meantime, a distinguished friend of Caietan, one Urbanus of Serralonga, tried to persuade him, in a flippant, and, as Luther thought, a downright Italian manner, to come forward and simply pronounce six letters,—Revoco—I retract. Urbanus asked him with a smile if he thought his sovereign would risk his country for his sake. 'God forbid!' answered Luther. 'Where then do you mean to take refuge?' he went on to ask him. 'Under Heaven,' was Luther's reply.

To Melancthon Luther wrote as follows: 'There is no news here, except that the town is full of talk about me, and everybody wants to see the man who, like a second Herostratus, has kindled such a flame. Remain a man as you are, and instruct the youth aright. I go to be sacrificed for them and for you, if God so will. For I will rather die, and, what is the hardest fate, lose for ever the sweet intercourse with you, than revoke anything that it was right for me to say.'

On October 11 Luther received the letter of safe-conduct, and the next day he appeared before Caietan. Humbly, as he had been advised, he prostrated himself before the representative of the Pope, who received him graciously and bade him rise.

The Cardinal addressed him civilly, and with a courtesy Luther was not accustomed to meet with from his opponents; but he immediately demanded him, in the name and by command of the Pope, to retract his errors, and promise in future to abstain from them and from everything that might disturb the peace of the Church. He pointed out, in particular, two errors in his theses; namely, that the Church's treasure of indulgences did not consist of the merits of Christ, and that faith on the part of the recipient was necessary for the efficacy of the sacrament. With respect to the second point, the religious principles upon which Luther based his doctrine were altogether strange and unintelligible to the Scholastic standpoint of Caietan; mere tittering and laughter followed Luther's observations, and he was required to retract this thesis unconditionally. The first point settled the question of Papal authority. On this, the Cardinal-legate took his chief stand on the express declaration of Pope Clement: he could not believe that Luther would venture to resist a Papal bull, and thought he had probably not read it. He read him a vigorous lecture of his own on the paramount authority of the Pope over Council, Church, and Scripture. As to any argument, however, about the theses to be retracted, Caietan refused from the first to engage in it, and undoubtedly he went further in that direction than he originally desired or intended. His sole wish was, as he said, to give fatherly correction, and with fatherly friendliness to arrange the matter. But in reality, says Luther, it was a blunt, naked, unyielding display of power. Luther could only beg from him further time for consideration.

Luther's friends at Augsburg, and Staupitz, who had just arrived there, now attempted to divert the course of these proceedings, to collect other decisions of importance bearing on the subject, and to give him the opportunity of a public vindication. Accompanied therefore by several jurists friendly to his cause, and by a notary and Staupitz, he laid before the legate next day a short and formal statement of defence. He could not retract unless convicted of error, and to all that he had said he must hold as being Catholic truth. Nevertheless he was only human, and therefore fallible, and he was willing to submit to a legitimate decision of the Church. He offered, at the same time, publicly to justify his theses, and he was ready to hear the judgment of the learned doctors of Basle, Freiburg, Louvain, and even Paris upon them. Caietan with a smile dismissed Luther and his proposals, but consented to receive a more detailed reply in writing to the principal points discussed on the previous day.

On the morrow, October 14, Luther brought his reply to the legate. But in this document also he insisted clearly and resolutely from the commencement on those very principles which his opponents regarded as destructive of all ecclesiastical authority and of the foundations of Christian belief. He spoke with crucial emphasis of the trouble he had taken to interpret the words of Pope Clement in a Scriptural sense. The Papal decrees might err, and be at variance with Holy Writ. Even the Apostle Peter himself had once to be reproved (Galat. ii. 11 sqq.) for 'walking not uprightly according to the truth of the gospel;' surely then his successor was not infallible. Every faithful believer in Christ was superior to the Pope, if he could show better proofs and grounds of his belief. Still he entreated Caietan to intercede with Leo X., that the latter might not harshly thrust out into darkness his soul, which was seeking for the light. But he repeated that he could do nothing against his conscience: one must obey God rather than man, and he had the fullest confidence that he had Scripture on his side. Caietan, to whom he delivered this reply in person, once more tried to persuade him. They fell into a lively and vehement argument; but Caietan cut it short with the exclamation 'Revoke.' In the event of Luther not revoking or submitting to judgment at Rome, he threatened him and all his friends with excommunication, and whatever place he might go to with an interdict; he had a mandate from the Pope to that effect already in his hands. He then dismissed him with the words, 'Revoke, or do not come again into my presence.'

Nevertheless he spoke in quite a friendly manner after this to Staupitz, urging him to try his best to convert Luther, whom he wished well. Luther, however, wrote the same day to his friend Spalatin, who was with the Elector, and to his friends at Wittenberg, telling them that he had refused to yield. The legate, he said, had behaved with all friendliness of manner to Staupitz in his affair, but neither Staupitz nor himself trusted the Italian when out of sight. If Caietan should use force against him, he would publish the written reply he gave him. Caietan might call himself a Thomist, but he was a muddle-headed, ignorant theologian and Christian, and as clumsy in giving judgment in the matter as a donkey with a harp. Luther added further that an appeal would be drawn up for him in the form best fitted to the occasion. He further hinted to his Wittenberg friends at the possibility of his having to go elsewhere in exile; indeed, his friends already thought of taking him to Paris, where the university still rejected the doctrine of Papal absolutism. He concluded this letter by saying that he refused to become a heretic by denying that which had made him a Christian; sooner than do that, he would be burned, exiled, or cursed.

The appeal of which Luther here spoke, was 'from the Pope ill-informed to the same when better informed.' On October 16 he submitted it, formally prepared, to a public notary. While Staupitz and Link, warned to consult their personal safety, and despairing of any good result, left Augsburg, Luther still remained there. He even addressed on October 17 a letter to Caietan, conceding to him the utmost he thought possible. Moved, as he said, by the persuasions of his dear father Staupitz and his brother Link, he offered to let the whole question of indulgences rest, if only that which drove him to this tragedy were put a stop to; he confessed also to having been too violent and disrespectful in dispute. In after years he said to his friends, when referring to this concession, that God had never allowed him to sink deeper than when he had yielded so much. The next day, however, he gave notice of his appeal to the legate, and told him he did not wish longer to waste his time in Augsburg. To this letter he received no answer.

Luther waited, however, till the 20th. He and his Augsburg patrons began to suspect whether measures had not already been taken to detain him. They therefore had a small gate in the city wall opened in the night, and sent with him an escort well acquainted with the road. Thus he hastened away, as he himself described it, on a hard-trotting hack, in a simple monk's frock, with only knee-breeches, without boots or spurs, and unarmed. On the first day he rode eight miles, as far as the little town of Monheim. As he entered in the evening an inn and dismounted in the stable, he was unable to stand from fatigue, and fell down instantly among the straw. He travelled thus on horseback to Wittenberg, where he arrived well and joyful, on the anniversary of his ninety-five theses. He had heard on the way of the Pope's brief to Caietan, but he refused to think it could be genuine. His appeal, meanwhile, was delivered to the Cardinal at Augsburg, who had it posted by his notary on the doors of the cathedral.

From Augsburg Luther was followed by a letter from Caietan to the Elector, full of bitter complaints against him. He had formed, he said, the highest hopes of his spiritual recovery, and had been grievously disappointed in him; the Elector, for his own honour and conscience' sake, must now either send him to Rome or, at least, expel him from his territory, since measures of fatherly kindness had failed to make him acknowledge his error. Frederick, after waiting four weeks, returned a quiet answer, showing how the conduct of Luther quite agreed with his own view of the matter. He would have expected that no recantation would have been required of Luther till the matter in dispute had been satisfactorily examined and explained. There were a number of learned men, also, at foreign universities, from whom he could not yet have learned with certainty that Luther's doctrine was unchristian; while, to say the least, it was chiefly those whose personal and financial interests were affected by it that had become his opponents. He would propose therefore that the judgment of several universities should be obtained, and have the matter disputed at a safe place. Luther, however, to whom the Elector showed this letter, at once declared himself ready to go into exile, but would not be deterred from publishing new declarations or taking further steps.

He had a report of his conference with Caietan printed, with a justification of himself to the readers. And in this he advanced propositions against the Papacy which entirely shook its whole foundation. Already, in the solutions to his theses, he had incidentally, and without attracting further notice by the remark, spoken of a time when the Papacy had not yet acquired supremacy over the Universal Church, thereby contradicting what the Romish Church maintained and had made into a dogma, namely, that the Papal see possessed this primacy by original institution through Christ, and by means of immutable Divine right. He now expressed this opinion as a positive proposition. The Papal monarchy, he declared, was only a Divine institution in the sense in which every temporal power, advanced by the progress of historical development, might be called so also. 'The kingdom of God cometh not with observation.'

Without waiting for an answer direct from Rome, Luther now abandoned all thoughts of success with Leo X. On November 28 he formally and solemnly appealed from the Pope to a General Christian Council. By so doing he anticipated the sentence of excommunication which he was daily expecting. With Rome he had broken for ever, unless she were to surrender her claims and acquisitions of more than a thousand years.

After once the first restraints of awe were removed with which Luther had regarded the Papacy, behind and beyond the matter of the indulgences, and he had learned to know the Papal representative at Augsburg, and made a stand against his demands and menaces, and escaped from his dangerous clutches, he enjoyed for the first time the fearless consciousness of freedom. He took a wider survey around him, and saw plainly the deep corruption and ungodliness of the powers arrayed against him. His mind was impelled forward with more energy as his spirit for the fight was stirred within him. Even the prospect that he might have to fly, and the uncertainty whither his flight could be, did not daunt or deter him. His thought was how he could throw himself with more freedom into the struggle, if no longer hampered by any obligations to his prince and his university. Writing at that time to his friend Link, to inform him of his new publications and his appeal, he invited his opinion as to whether he was not right in saying that the Antichrist of whom St. Paul speaks (2 Thess. ii.), ruled at the Papal court. 'My pen,' he went on to say, 'is already giving birth to something much greater. I know not whence these thoughts come. The work, as far as I can see, has hardly yet begun, so little reason have the great men at Rome for hoping it is finished.' Again, while informing Spalatin, through whom the Elector always urged him to moderation, of new Papal edicts and regulations aimed against him, he declared, 'The more those Romish grandees rage and meditate the use of force, the less do I fear them. All the more free shall I become to fight against the serpents of Rome. I am prepared for all, and await the judgment of God.'

He was really prepared for exile or flight at any moment. At Wittenberg his friends were alarmed by rumours of designs on the part of the Pope against his life and liberty, and insisted on his being placed in safety. Flight to France was continually talked of; had he not followed in his appeal a precedent set by the university of Paris? We certainly cannot see how he could safely have been conveyed thither, or where, indeed, any other and safer place could have been found for him. Some urged that the Elector himself should take him into custody and keep him in a place of safety, and then write to the legate that he held him securely in confinement and was in future responsible for him. Luther proposed this to Spalatin, and added, 'I leave the decision of this matter to your discretion; I am in the hands of God and of my friends.' The Elector himself, anxious also in this respect, arranged early in December a confidential interview between Luther and Spalatin at the Castle of Lichtenberg. He also, as Luther reported to Staupitz, wished that Luther had some other place to be in, but he advised him against going away so hastily to France. His own wish and counsel, however, he refrained as yet from making known. Luther declared that at all events, if a ban of excommunication were to come from Rome, he would not remain longer at Wittenberg. On this point also the prince kept secret his resolve.



CHAPTER IV.

MILTITZ AND THE DISPUTATION AT LEIPZIG, WITH IT RESULTS.

The rumours of the dangers that threatened Luther from Rome had a good foundation. A new agent from there had now arrived in Germany, the Papal chamberlain, Charles von Miltitz.

His errand was designed to remove the chief obstacle to summoning the Wittenberg heretic to Rome, or imprisoning him there, namely, the protection afforded him by his sovereign. Miltitz was of a noble Saxon family, himself a Saxon subject by birth, and a friend of the Electoral court. He brought with him a high token of favour for the Elector. The latter had formerly expressed a wish to receive the golden rose; a symbol solemnly consecrated by the Pope himself, and bestowed by his ambassadors on princely personages to this day, for services rendered to the Church or the Papal see. The bearer of this decoration was Miltitz, and on October 24, 1518, he was furnished with a whole armful of Papal indulgences.

Above all, he took with him two letters of Leo X. to Frederick. The Elector, his beloved son, so ran the first missive, was to receive the most holy rose, anointed with the sacred chrism, sprinkled with scented musk, consecrated with the Apostolic blessing, a gift of transcendent worth and the symbol of a deep mystery, in remembrance and as a pledge of the Pope's paternal love and singular good-will, conveyed through an ambassador specially appointed by the Pope, and charged with particular greetings on that behalf &c. &c. Such a costly gift, proffered him by the Church through her Pontiff, was intended to manifest her joy at the redemption of mankind by the precious blood of Jesus Christ, and the rose was an appropriate symbol of the quickening and refreshing body of our Redeemer. These high-sounding and long-winded expressions showed very plainly the real object of the Pope. The divine fragrance of this flower was so to permeate the inmost heart of Frederick, the 'beloved son,' that he being filled with it, might with pious mind receive and cherish in his noble breast those matters which Miltitz would explain to him, and whereof the second brief made mention; and thus the more fervently comprehend the Pope's holy and pious longing, agreeably to the hope he placed in him. The other letter, however, after referring to the call for aid against the Turks, goes on to speak of Luther. From Satan himself came this son of perdition, who was preaching notorious heresy, and that chiefly in Frederick's own land. Inasmuch as this diseased sheep must not be suffered to infect the heavenly flock, and as the honour and conscience of the Elector also must needs be stained by his presence, Miltitz was commissioned to take measures against him and his associates, and Frederick was exhorted in the name of the Lord to assist him with his authority and favour.

Papal instructions in writing to the same effect were given to Miltitz for Spalatin, as Frederick's private secretary, and for Degenhard Pfeffinger, a counsellor of the Elector. To Spalatin in particular, the most trusted adviser of Frederick in religious matters, it was represented, how horrible was the heretical audacity of this 'son of Satan,' and how he imperilled the good name of the Elector. In like manner the chief magistrate of Wittenberg was required by letter to give assistance to Miltitz, and enable him to execute freely and unhindered the Pope's commands against the heretic Luther, who came of the devil. Miltitz took with him similar injunctions for a number of other towns in Germany, to ensure safe passage for himself and his prisoner to Rome, in the event of his arresting Luther. He was armed, it was said, with no less than seventy letters of this kind.

As regards the rose, Miltitz had strict orders to make the actual delivery of it to Frederick depend wholly on his compliance with Caietan's advice and will. It was deposited first of all in the mercantile house of the Fuggers at Augsburg. This public precaution was taken, to prevent Miltitz from parting with the precious gift in haste or from too anxious a desire for the thanks and praise in prospect, before there were reasonable grounds for hoping that it had served its purpose.

Towards the middle of December a Papal bull, issued on November 9, was published by Caietan in Germany, which finally laid down the doctrine of indulgences in the sense directly combated by Luther, and, although not mentioning him by name, threatened excommunication against all who shared the errors which had lately been promulgated in certain quarters.

So utterly did the Pope appear to have set his face against all reconciliation or compromise. And yet, as the event showed, room was left for Miltitz in his secret instructions to try another method, according as circumstances might dictate.

Miltitz, after having crossed the Alps, sought an interview first with Caietan in Southern Germany, and, as the latter had gone to the Emperor in Austria, he paid a visit to his old friend Pfeffinger, at his home in Bavaria. Continuing his journey with him, he arrived on December 25 at the town of Gera, and from there announced his arrival to Spalatin, who was at Altenburg. On the way he had had constant opportunities of noticing, both among learned men and the common people, signs of sympathy for the man against whom his mission was directed, and a feeling hostile to Rome, of which those at Rome neither knew nor cared to know. He was a young and clever man, full of the enjoyment of life, who knew how to mix and converse with people of every kind, and even to touch now and then on the situation and doings at Rome which were exciting such lively indignation. Tetzel also, whom Miltitz summoned to meet him, wrote complaining that the people in Germany were so excited against him by Luther, that his life would not be safe on the road. Miltitz accordingly, with his usual readiness, resolved speedily on an attempt to make Luther harmless by other means. After paying his visit to the Elector at Altenburg, he agreed to treat with him there in a friendly manner.

The remarkable interview with Luther took place at Spalatin's house at Altenburg in the first week of the new year. Miltitz feigned the utmost frankness and friendliness, nay, even cordiality. He himself declared to Luther, that for the last hundred years no business had caused so much trouble at Rome as this one, and that they would gladly there give ten thousand ducats to prevent its going further. He described the state of popular feeling as he had found it on his journey; three were for Luther where only one was for the Pope. He would not venture, even with an escort of 25,000 men, to carry off Luther through Germany to Rome. 'Oh, Martin!' he exclaimed, 'I thought you were some old theologian, who had carried on his disputations with himself, in his warm corner behind the stove. Now I see how young, and fresh, and vigorous you are.' Whilst plying him with exhortations and reproaches about the injury he did to the Romish Church, he accompanied them with tears. He fancied by this means to make him his confidant and conformable to his schemes.

Luther, however, soon showed him that he could be his match in cleverness. He refrained, he tells us, from letting Miltitz see that he was aware what crocodile's tears they were. Indeed he was quite prepared, as he had been before under the menaces of a Papal ambassador, so now under his persuasions and entreaties, to yield all that his conscience allowed, but nothing beyond, and then quietly to let matters take their own course.

In the event of Miltitz withdrawing his demand for a retractation, Luther agreed to write a letter to the Pope, acknowledging that he had been too hasty and severe, and promising to publish a declaration to German Christendom urging and admonishing reverence to the Romish Church. His cause, and the charges brought against him, might be tried before a German bishop, but he reserved to himself the right, in case the judgment should be unacceptable, of reviving his appeal to the Church in Council. Personally he desired to desist from further strife, but silence must also be imposed on his adversaries.

Having come to this point of agreement, they partook of a friendly supper together, and on parting Miltitz bestowed on him a kiss.

In a report given of this conference to the Elector, Luther expressed the hope that the matter by mutual silence might 'bleed itself to death,' but added his fear that, if the contest were prolonged, the question would grow larger and become serious.

He now wrote his promised address to the people. He bated not an inch from his standpoint, so that, even if he should for the future let the controversy rest, he might not appear to have retracted anything. He allowed a value to indulgences, but only as a recompense for the 'satisfaction' given by the sinner, and adding that it was better to do good than to purchase indulgences. He urged the duty of holding fast in Christian love and unity, and notwithstanding her faults and sins, to the Romish Church, in which St. Peter and St. Paul and hundreds of martyrs had shed their blood, and of submitting to her authority, though with reference only to external matters. Propositions going beyond what was here conceded he wished to be regarded as in no way affecting the people or the common man. They should be left, he said, to the schools of theology, and learned men might fight the matter out between them. His opponents indeed, if they had admitted what Luther declared in this address, would have had to abandon their main principles, for to them the doctrine that indulgences and Church authority meant far more than was here stated was a truth indispensable for salvation.

Luther wrote his letter to the Pope on March 3, 1519. It began with expressions of the deepest personal humility, but differed significantly in the quiet firmness of its tone from his other letter of the previous year to Leo X. Quietly, but as resolutely, he repudiated all idea of retracting his principles. They had already, through the opposition raised by his enemies, been propagated far and wide, beyond all his expectations, and had sunk into the hearts of the Germans, whose knowledge and judgment were now more matured. If he let himself be forced to retract them he would give occasion to accusation and revilement against the Romish Church; for the sake of her own honour he must refuse to do so. As for his battle against indulgences, his only thought had been to prevent the Mother Church from being defiled by foreign avarice, and that the people should not be led astray, but learn to set love before indulgences.

Meanwhile, on January 12, Maximilian had died. He was the last national Emperor with whom Germany was blessed; in character a true German, endowed with rich gifts both mental and physical, a man of high courage and a warm heart, thoroughly understanding how to deal with high and low, and to win their esteem and love. By Luther too we hear him often spoken of afterwards in terms of affectionate remembrance: he tells us of his kindness and courtesy to everyone, of his efforts to attract around him trusty and capable servants from all ranks, of his apt remarks, of his tact in jest and in earnest; further of the troubles he had in his government of the Empire and with his princes, of the insolence he had to put up with from the Italians, and of the humour with which he speaks of himself and his imperial rule. 'God,' said he on one occasion, 'has well ordered the temporal and spiritual government; the former is ruled over by a chamois-hunter, and the latter by a drunken priest' (Pope Julius). He called himself a king of kings, because his German princes only acted like kings when it suited them. With the lofty ideas and projects which he cherished as sovereign, he stood before the people as a worthy representative of Imperialism, even though his eyes may have been fixed in reality more on his own family and the power of his dynasty, than on the general interests of the Empire. The ecclesiastical grievances of the German nation, which we heard of at the Diet of 1518, had long engaged his lively sympathy, though he deemed it wiser to abstain from interfering. He had an opinion on these matters and on the necessary reforms drawn up by the Humanist Wimpheling. Nay, he had once, in his contest with Pope Julius, worked to bring about a general reforming Council. The question forces itself on the mind—however vain such an inquiry may be from a historical point of view—what turn Luther's great work, and the fortunes of the German nation and Church would have taken, if Maximilian had identified his own imperial projects with the interests for which Luther contended, and thus had come forward as the leader of a great national movement. As it was, Maximilian died without ever having realised more of the importance of this monk than was shown by his remark about him, already noticed, at Augsburg.



His death served to increase the respect which the Pope found it necessary to show to the Elector Frederick. For, pending the election of a new Emperor, the latter was Administrator of the Empire for Northern Germany, and the issue of the election depended largely on his influence. On June 28 Maximilian's grandson, King Charles of Spain, then nineteen years of age, was chosen Emperor. He was a stranger to German life and customs, as the German people and the Reformer must constantly have had to feel. For the Pope, however, these considerations were of further import, for in his dealings with the new Emperor he had to proceed at least with caution, since the latter was aware that he had done his best to prevent his election. On the other hand, Charles was under an obligation to the Elector, being mainly indebted to him for his crown, and unable to come himself immediately to Germany to accept his rule.

Miltitz meanwhile had further prosecuted his scheme, without revealing his own ultimate object. He chose for a judge of Luther's cause the Archbishop of Treves, and persuaded him to accept the office. Early in May he had an interview with Caietan at Coblentz, the chief town of the archiepiscopal diocese, and now summoned Luther to appear there before the Archbishop.

But Miltitz took good care to say nothing about the opinions entertained at Rome of his negotiations with Luther. Would Luther venture from his refuge at Wittenberg without the consent of his faithful sovereign, who himself evinced suspicion in the matter, and set forth in the dark, so to speak, on his long journey to the two ambassadors of the Pope? He would be held a fool, he wrote to Miltitz, if he did; moreover, he did not know where to find the money for the journey. What took place between Rome and Miltitz in this affair was altogether unknown to Luther, as it is to us.

Whilst this attempt at a mediation—if such it could be called—remained thus in abeyance, a serious occasion of strife had been prepared, which caused the seemingly muffled storm to break out with all its violence.

Luther's colleague, Carlstadt, who at first, on the appearance of Luther's theses, had viewed them with anxiety, but who afterwards espoused the new Wittenberg theology, and pressed forward in that path, had had a literary feud since 1518 with Eck, on account of his attacks upon Luther. The latter, meeting Eck at Augsburg in October, arranged with him for a public disputation in which Eck and Carlstadt could fight the matter out. Luther hoped, as he told Eck and his friends, that there might be a worthy battle for the truth, and the world should then see that theologians could not only dispute but come to an agreement. Thus then, at least between him and Eck, there seemed the prospect of a friendly understanding. The university of Leipzig was chosen as the scene of the disputation. Duke George of Saxony, the local ruler, gave his consent, and rejected the protest of the theological faculty, to whom the affair seemed very critical.

When, however, towards the end of the year, Eck published the theses which he intended to defend, Luther found with astonishment that they dealt with cardinal points of doctrine, which he himself, rather than Carlstadt, had maintained, and that Carlstadt was expressly designated the 'champion of Luther.' Only one of these theses related to a doctrine specially defended by Carlstadt, namely, that of the subjection of the will in sinful man. Among the other points noticed was the denial of the primacy of the Romish Church during the first few centuries after Christ. Eck had extracted this from Luther's recent publications; so far as Carlstadt was concerned, he could not have read or heard a word of such a statement.

Luther fired up. In a public letter addressed to Carlstadt he observed that Eck had let loose against him, in reality, the frogs or flies intended for Carlstadt, and he challenged Eck himself. He would not reproach him for having so maliciously, uncourteously, and in an untheological manner charged Carlstadt with doctrines to which he was a stranger; he would not complain of being drawn himself again into the contest by a piece of base flattery on Eck's part towards the Pope; he would merely show that his crafty wiles were well understood, and he wished to exhort him in a friendly spirit, for the future, if only for his own reputation, to be a little more sensible in his stratagems. Eck might then gird his sword upon his thigh, and add a Saxon triumph to the others of which he boasted, and so at length rest on his laurels. Let him bring forth to the world what he was in labour of; let him disgorge what had long been lying heavy on his stomach, and bring his vainglorious menaces at length to an end.

Luther was anxious, indeed, apart from this special reason, to be allowed to defend in a public disputation the truth for which he was called a heretic; he had made this proposal in vain to the legate at Augsburg. He now demanded to be admitted to the lists at Leipzig. He wished in particular, to take up the contest, openly and decisively, about the Papal primacy.

His friends just on this point grew anxious about him. But he prepared his weapons with great diligence, studying thoroughly the ecclesiastical law-books and the history of ecclesiastical law, with which until now he had never occupied himself so much. Herein he found his own conclusions fully confirmed. Nay, he found that the tyrannical pretensions of the Pope, even if more than a thousand years old, derived their sole and ultimate authority from the Papal decretals of the last four centuries. Arrayed against the theory of that primacy were the history of the previous centuries, the authority of the Council of Nice in 325, and the express declaration of Scripture. This he stated now in a thesis, and announced his opinion in print.

We have already noticed the high importance of this historical evidence in regard to matters of belief, as well as to the entire conception of Christian salvation, and of the true community or Church of Christ. The real essence of the Church is shown not to depend on its constitution under a Pope. And the course of history, wherein God allowed the Christians of the West to come under the external authority of the Pope, just as people come to be under the rule of different princes, in no way subjected, or should subject, the whole of Christendom to his dominion. The millions of Eastern Christians, who are not his subjects, and who are therefore condemned by the Pope as schismatics, are all, as Luther now distinctly declares, none the less members of Christendom, of the Church, of the Body of Christ. Participation in salvation does not exist only in the community of the Church of Rome. For Christendom collectively, or the Universal Church, there is no other Head but Christ. Luther now also discovered and declared that the bishops did not receive their posts over individual dioceses and flocks until after the Apostolic period; the episcopate therefore ceases to be an essential and necessary element of the Church system. What, then, is really essential for the continuance of the Church, and how far does it extend? Luther answers this question with the fundamental principle of Evangelical Protestantism. The Church, he says, is not at Rome only, but there, and there only, where the Word of God is preached and believed in; where Christian faith, hope, and charity are alive, where Christ, inwardly received, stands before a united Christendom as her bridegroom. This Universal Church, says Luther, is the one intended by the Creed, when it says 'I believe in a Holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints.'

The mere external power which the Popedom exercised in its government of the Church, in the imposition of outward acts and penalties—appeared, so far, to Luther a matter of indifference in respect to religion and the salvation of souls. But it was another and more serious matter with regard to the claim to Divine right asserted for that power by the Papacy, and to its extension over the soul and conscience, over the community of the faithful, nay, over the fate of departed souls. Here Luther saw an invasion of the rights reserved by God to Himself, and a perversion of the true conditions of salvation, as established by Christ and testified in Scripture. Here he saw a human potentate and tyrant, setting himself up in the place of Christ and God. He shuddered, so he wrote to his friends, when, in reading the Papal decretals, he looked further into the doings of the Popes, with their demands and edicts, into this smithy of human laws, this fresh crucifixion of Christ, this ill-treatment and contempt of His people. As previously he had said that Antichrist ruled at the Papal court, so now, in a letter of March 13, 1519, he wrote privately to Spalatin, 'I know not whether the Pope is Antichrist himself, or one of his Apostles,' so antichristian seemed to him the institution of the Papacy itself, with its principles and its fruits. Of these decretals he says in another letter: 'If the death-blow dealt to indulgences has so damaged the see of Rome, what will it do when, by the will of God, its decretals have to breathe their last? Not that I glory in victory, trusting to my own strength, but my trust is in the mercy of God, whose wrath is against the edicts of man.'



Luther earnestly entreated Duke George to allow him to take part in the disputation. His Elector, who no doubt was personally desirous of a public, free, and learned treatment of the questions at issue, had already given him his permission. Luther's understanding with Miltitz presented no obstacle, since the silence required as a condition on the part of his opponents, had never been observed, nor indeed had ever been enjoined or recommended either by Miltitz or any other authorities of the Church. His application, nevertheless, to the Duke was referred to Eck for his concurrence, and the latter let him wait in vain for an answer. At last the Duke drew up a letter of safe-conduct for Carlstadt and all whom he might bring with him, and under this designation Luther was included. He might safely trust himself to George's word as a man and a prince.

The whole disputation was opposed and protested against from the outset by the Bishop of Merseburg, the chancellor of the university of Leipzig and the spiritual head of the faculty of theology. The project must have been inadmissible in his eyes from the mere fact that Eck's theses revived the controversy about indulgences, which was supposed to have been settled once and for ever by the Papal bull. He appealed to this pronouncement as a reason for not holding it. Inasmuch as the disputation took place, in spite of this protest, with the Duke's consent, it became an affair of all the more importance.

Duke George himself took an active interest in the matter. His was a robust, upright, and sturdy character. He was a staunch and faithful upholder of the ecclesiastical traditions in which he had grown up; it was difficult for him to extend his views. But he was honestly interested in the truth. He wished that his own men of learning might have a good scuffle in the lists for the truth's sake. On hearing of the objections of the Leipzig theologians to the disputation, his remark was, 'They are evidently afraid to be disturbed in their idleness and guzzling, and think that whenever they hear a shot fired, it has hit them.' An unusually large audience being expected for the disputation, he had the large hall of his Castle of Pleissenburg cleared and furnished for the occasion. He commissioned two of his counsellors to preside, and was anxious himself to be present. How much depended on the impression which the disputation itself, and Luther with it, should produce upon him!

On June 24 the Wittenbergers entered Leipzig, with Carlstadt at their head. An eye-witness has described the scene: 'They entered at the Grimma Gate, and their students, two hundred in number, ran beside the carriages with pikes and halberds, and thus accompanied their professors. Dr. Carlstadt drove first; after him, Dr. Martin and Philip (Melancthon) in a light basket carriage with solid wooden wheels (Rollwagen); none of the wagons were either curtained or covered. Just as they had passed the town-gate and had reached the churchyard of St. Paul, Dr. Carlstadt's carriage broke down, and the doctor fell out into the dirt; but Dr. Martin and his fidus Achates Philip, drove on.' Meanwhile, an episcopal mandate, forbidding the disputation on pain of excommunication, had been nailed up on the church doors, but no heed was paid to it. The magistrate even imprisoned the man who posted the bill for having done so without his permission.

Before commencing the disputation, certain preliminary conditions were arranged. The proceedings were to be taken down by notaries. Eck had opposed this, fearing to be hindered in the free use of his tongue, and not liking to have all his utterances in debate so exactly defined. The protocols, however, were to be submitted to umpires charged to decide the result of the disputation, and were to be published after their verdict was announced. In vain had both Luther and Carlstadt, who refused to bind themselves to this decision, opposed this stipulation. The Duke, however, insisted on it, as a means of terminating judicially the contest.

Early on the morning of June 27 the disputation was opened with all the worldly and spiritual solemnity that could be given to a most important academical event. First came an address of welcome in the hall, spoken by the Leipzig professor, Simon Pistoris; then a mass in the church of St. Thomas, whither the assembly repaired in a procession of state; then a still grander procession to the Pleissenburg, where a division of armed citizens was stationed as a guard of honour; then a long speech on the right way of disputing, delivered in the Castle hall by the famous Peter Schade Mosellanus, a professor at Leipzig and a master of Latin eloquence; and lastly the chanting three times of the Latin hymn, 'Come, Holy Ghost,' the whole assembly kneeling. At two o'clock the disputation between Eck and Carlstadt began. They were placed opposite each other in pulpits.

A host of theologians and learned laymen had flocked together to the scene. From Wittenberg had come the Pomeranian Duke Barnim, then Rector of the University. Prince George of Anhalt, then a young Leipzig student, and afterwards a friend of Luther, was there. Duke George of Saxony frequently attended the proceedings, and listened attentively. His court jester is said to have appeared with him, and a comic scene is mentioned as having occurred between him and Eck, to the great diversion of the meeting. Frederick the Wise was represented by one of his counsellors, Hans von Planitz.

Eck and Carlstadt contended for four days, from June 27 to July 8, on the question of free will and its relations to the operation of the grace of God. It was a wearisome contest, with disconnected texts from Scripture and passages from old teachers of the Church, but without any of the lively and free animation of moral and religious spirit, which, in Luther's treatment of such questions, carried his hearers with him. In power of memory, as in readiness of speech, Eck proved himself superior to his opponent. On Carlstadt bringing books of reference with him, he got this disallowed, and had now the advantage that no one could check his own quotations. Thus, confident of triumph, he proceeded to his contest with Luther.

Luther meanwhile, on June 29, the day of St. Peter and St. Paul, had preached a sermon at the request of Duke Barnim at the Castle of Pleissenburg, wherein, referring to the Gospel of the day, he treated, in a simple, practical, and edifying manner, of the main point of the disputation between Eck and Carlstadt, and at the same time of the point he himself was about to argue, namely, the meaning of the power of the keys granted to St. Peter. In opposition to him, Eck delivered four sermons in various churches of the town (none of which Luther would have been allowed to preach in), and speaking of them afterwards he said, 'I simply stirred up the people to be disgusted with the Lutheran errors.' The members of the Leipzig university kept peevishly aloof from their brethren of Wittenberg throughout the disputation, while paying all possible homage to Eck. When Luther one day entered a church, the monks who were conducting service hastily took away the monstrance and the elements, to avoid having them defiled by his presence. And yet he was afterwards reproached for neglecting to go to church at Leipzig. In the hostelries where the Wittenberg students lodged, such violent scenes occurred between them and their Leipzig brethren, that halberdiers had to be stationed at the tables to keep order.

Duke George invited the heretic, together with Eck and Carlstadt, to his own table, and to a private audience as well. So frank and genial was he, and so intent on making himself acquainted with Luther and his cause. Luther spoke of him then as a good, pious prince, who knew how to speak in princely fashion. The Duke, however, told him at that audience, that the Bohemians entertained great expectations of him; and yet George, who on his mother's side was grand-son to Podiebrad, King of Bohemia, was anxious to have all taint of the hateful Bohemian heresy most carefully avoided. On this point Luther remarked to him that he knew well how to distinguish between the pipe and the piper, and was only sorry to see how accessible princes might be to the influence of foreign agitations. Leipzig altogether must have been a strange and uncomfortable atmosphere for Luther.

On Monday, July 4, he entered the lists with Eck. On the morning of that day he signed the conditions, which had been arranged in spite of his protest; but he stated that, against the verdict of the judges, whatever it might be, he maintained the right of appeal to a Council, and would not accept the Papal curia as his judge. The protocol on this point ran as follows: 'Nevertheless Dr. Martin has stipulated for his appeal, which he has already announced, and so far as the same is lawful, will in no wise abandon his claim thereto. He has stipulated further that, for reasons touching himself, the report of this disputation shall not be submitted for approval to the Papal court.'



The appearance of Luther at this disputation has given occasion for the first description of his person which we possess from the pen of a contemporary. Mosellanus, already mentioned, says of him in a letter: 'He is of middle stature, his body thin, and so wasted by care and study, that nearly all his bones may be counted. He is in the prime of life. His voice is clear and melodious. His learning and his knowledge of Scripture are extraordinary; he has nearly everything at his fingers' ends. Greek and Hebrew he understands sufficiently well to give his judgment on the interpretation of the Scriptures. In speaking, he has a vast store of subjects and words at his command; he is moreover refined and sociable in his life and manners; he has no rough Stoicism or pride about him, and he understands how to adapt himself to different persons and times. In society he is lively and witty. He is always fresh, cheerful, and at his ease, and has a pleasant countenance, however hard his enemies may threaten him, so that one cannot but believe that Heaven is with him in his great undertaking. Most people however reproach him with wanting moderation in polemics, and with being more cutting than befits a theologian and one who propounds something new in sacred matters.' His ability as a disputant was afterwards acknowledged by Eck, who in referring to this tourney, quoted Aristotle's remark that when two men dispute together, each of whom has learned the art, there is sure to be a good disputation.

Eck is described by Mosellanus as a man of a tall, square figure, with a voice fit for a public crier, but more coarse than distinct, and with nothing pleasant about it; with the mouth, the eyes, and the whole appearance of a butcher or soldier, but with a most remarkable memory. In power of memory and elocution he surpassed even Luther; but in solidity and real breadth of learning, impartial men like Pistoris gave the palm to Luther. Eck is said to have imitated the Italians in his great animation of speech, his declamation, and gesticulations with his arms and his whole body. Melancthon even said in a letter after the disputation, 'Most of us must admire Eck for his manifold and distinguished intellectual gifts.' Later on he calls him, 'Eckeckeck, the daws'-voice.' At any rate Eck displayed a rare power and endurance in those Leipzig days, and understood above all how to pursue with cleverness the real object he had in view in his contest with Luther.

The two began at once with that point which Eck had singled out as the chief object of debate, and about which Luther had advanced his boldest proposition, namely, the question of the Papal power.



After lengthy discussions on the evidence of texts of Scripture; on the old Fathers of the Church, to whom the Papal supremacy was unknown; on the Western Church of middle ages, by whom that supremacy was acknowledged at an earlier period than Luther would admit; on the non-subjection to Rome of Eastern Christendom, to whom Luther referred, and whom Eck with a light heart put outside the pale of salvation, Eck on the second day of the disputation passed, after due premeditation, from the ecclesiastical authorities he had quoted in favour of the Divine right of the Papal primacy, to the statements of the English heretic Wicliffe, and the Bohemian Huss, who had denied this right, and had therefore been justly condemned. He was bound to notice them, he said, since, in his own frail and humble judgment, Luther's thesis favoured in the highest degree the errors of the Bohemians, who, it was reported, wished him well for his opinions. Luther answered him as he had done in each case before. He condemned the separation of the Bohemians from the Catholic Church, on the ground that the highest right derived from God was that of love and the Spirit, and he repudiated the reproach which Eck sought to cast upon him. But he declared at the same time that the Bohemians on that point had never yet been refuted. And with perfect self-conviction and calm reflection he proceeded to assert that among the articles of Huss some were fundamentally Christian and Evangelical, such as, for example, his statements that there was only one Universal Church (to which even Greek Christendom had always and still belonged), and that the belief in the supremacy of the Church of Rome was not necessary to salvation. No man, he added, durst impose upon a Christian an article of belief which was antiscriptural; the judgment of an individual Christian must be worth more than that of the Pope or even of a Council, provided he has a better ground for it.

That moment, when Luther spoke thus of the doctrines of Huss, a heretic already condemned by a Council and proscribed in Germany, was the most impressive and important in the whole disputation. An eye-witness, who sat below Duke George and Barnim, relates that the Duke, on hearing the words, shouted out in a voice heard by all the assembly, 'A plague upon it!' and shook his head, and put both hands to his sides. The whole audience, variously as they thought of the assertion, must have been fairly astounded. Luther, it was true, had already stated in writing that a Council could err. But now he declared himself for principles which a Council, namely that of Constance, solemnly appointed and unanimously recognised by the whole of Western Christendom, had condemned, and thus openly accused that Council of error in a decision of the most momentous importance. Nay more, that decision had been concurred in by the very men who, while recognising the Papal primacy, strenuously defended against Papal despotism the rights of General Councils, and of the nations and states which they represented. The Western Catholic Church entertained, as we have seen, a diversity of views as to the relative authority of the Popedom, as an institution of Christ, and that which appertained to Councils. Luther now, by denying the Divine institution and authority of the Papacy, seemed to have broken with all authority whatsoever existing in the Church, and with every possible exercise of the same.