been beautifully noticed by D'Aubigné in the commencement of his third volume; where he shows, that the impression that Luther was a rash, headlong revolutionist, is altogether erroneous. ence, that even his heart sometimes misgave him before the performance of that most sig nificant act. I burnt the Papal books and the bull,' he writes to Staupitz a month after, with trembling and prayer; but I am now better pleased with that act than with any other of my whole life.'* The same wisdom marked the courageous obstinacy with which, in spite of entreaties, intimidations, and sickness, he persisted in presenting himself at the Diet of His But we further mean to assert, that in the most audacious actions of his life, that very audacity, in the majority of instances, was itself wisdom. Take, for example, his letter from the Wartburg to Albert Archbishop of Mayence, commanding rather than beseeching him, not to revive the in- Worms. He alone, of all his party, seemed famous Indulgences. We do not defend duly to appreciate the importance, the nethe taste or decency of the style; but the cessity, of that act to the safety of his great result proves that Luther knew his man. enterprise. At that critical moment, adIt was followed by a reply as deferential vance as well as retreat was full of danger; as if the monk had been the archbishop, and but the path of true policy, as well as of the archbishop the monk. It was on this true magnanimity, was to advance. occasion that he used some most remarka- obstinacy at this crisis has something absoble expressions to Spalatin, who had enjoin-lutely sublime about it. While his eneed silence, and who had enforced his in- mies, more perspicacious than his friends, junctions by those of Frederic-'I have distrusted, and at last dreaded his appearseldom read more unwelcome letters than your last,' he writes; so that I not only delayed to reply, but had determined not to reply at all. I will not bear what you have said, that the Prince will not suffer the Archbishop to be written to, nor that I should disturb the public peace. I will rather lose you-the Prince-and every creature on earth. If I have resisted the Archbishop's creator, the Pope-shall I succumb to the Pope's creature? Non sic, Spalatine; non sic, Princeps... I am resolved not to listen to you; fixum est, te non auditum iri." In like manner, his Appeal to a Future Council, prepared while awaiting the fulmination of the Bull, but surreptitiously published before it came, (as Luther expressly affirms,) brought thousands to his standard; and still more may be said for those bold and unsparing invectives against the abuses of Rome, in the 'Babylonish Captivity,' and in the Address to the German Nobility.' It may be similarly asserted, that no measure whatever could have been so critically well-timed as that most decisive one of committing the decretals and entire pontifical code to the flames, and crowning the hecatomb with the formidable bull itself. It is not only one of the most striking events of history, and exhibits the chief actor in an attitude truly sublime, but was a most felicitous and politic expedient. It is curious, however, to hear Luther admitting, in his correspond * De Wette, vol. ii. P. 94. ance, employed all sorts of machinations to deter him, and plainly hinted that the road to Worms was the road to destruction, while his friends, with a terrible remembrance of the fate of Huss before their eyes, to whom even the Imperial safe-conduct had been no protection, painted, in appalling colors, the certain martyrdom to which he was exposing himself, Luther remained inflexible. The repeated and varied forms in which he energetically expressed his purpose, showed the importance he attached to the act, and the obstinacy with which he had resolved upon it. Two are well known :Should they light a fire which should blaze as high as heaven, and reach from Wittemberg to Worms, at Worms I will still appear.' 'Though there were as many devils in Worms as there are tiles on the houses, in would I go-noch wollt ich hinein.' But his letters, written on his progress thither, abound in expressions of the same inflexibility. We come, my Spala tin,' he writes from Frankfort. And his appearance and language at Worms, did more to promote the cause of the Reformation than any other act, whether * De Wette, vol. i. p. 543. Ib. vol. i. p. 587. of preceding or succeeding years. He it had been-that of uncompromising firmhimself, as he repeatedly intimates in hisness. In the most energetic larguage he correspondence, had serious apprehensions denounces the vanity of all projects of verthat his career would terminate at Worms, bal compromise; refuses all participation and evidently left it with much of the feel-in any acts which should have that object; ing with which a man might find that he and threatens to shiver in atoms any league had safely got out of lion's den. There by which Rome and Luther should be bound is an obvious tone of hilarity in the letters together. I have received your apology,' dated immediately after his departure from he writes to Melancthon, and wonder what the Diet, which contrasts oddly enough with you mean when you ask, What and how regrets that he must escape, in temporary much should be conceded to the Pope? concealment, the honors of martyrdom. For myself, more than enough has already Witness the following to Luke Cranach, the been conceded in that apology, and if they painter, in which he ludicrously character- refuse that, I see not what more I can posizes the proceedings of the Diet with all the sibly grant them.'* And shortly after, 'For point, brevity, and sarcastic energy, which myself, I will not yield a hair's-breadth, or he could so well assume :-'I thought that suffer any thing to be restored. I will rather his Imperial Majesty would have summoned endure every extremity. Let the Emperor some doctor, or some fifty, and eloquently do as he will.' And two days after, to confuted the monk. But nothing more is Spalatin, 'Hope not for agreement. If the done than just this, "Are these books Emperor will publish an edict, let him. thine?" "Yes." "Will you retract them He published one at Worms!' 'Should or not?" "No." "Then get about your it come to pass,' he writes to the same friend a month after, that you concede any thing plainly against the gospel, and enclose that eagle in a vile sack, Luther, (never doubt it,)-Luther will come, and, in a magnificent fashion, set the noble bird free.' D'Aubigné's work has not yet reached this period; but there are no letters of Luther more interesting than the series which relate to the proceedings of this memorable Diet. business." So heb dich.' M. With such talents for the conduct of affairs, we need not wonder that the prudent Frederic so often sought his counsels; that Melancthon should have so eulogized his sagacity in his funeral panegyric; or that Cajetan should have wished to decline further encounters with him. 'I will have nothing more to do with this beast, for he has deep-set eyes, and wonderful speculations in his head.' During the sittings of the celebrated Diet of Augsburg, (held nearly ten years after that of Worms,) Luther, it is well known, was persuaded to remain at Coburg, whence he watched with intense and, as his letters at this period so often testify, impatient interest, the proceedings of his less prompt and perspicacious colleagues. On this occasion he showed his thorough knowledge of the treacherous and crafty policy, the spirit of subtle intrigue, which had so often characterized Rome-those 'Italiant arts,' Italitates as he designates them when speaking so many years before of the feigned cordialities of the Nuncio Miltitz-arts' which he dreaded for Melancthon more than violence, and of which the Papal diplomacy was never more prodigal than on this occasion. While the timid Melancthon was We have repeatedly stated, that the in'cutting and contriving' to perform impos- tellect of Luther did not particularly fit him sibilities, to find a common measure of in- for the investigation of abstract or speculacommensurables-sewing new cloth upon tive truth; but in all matters of a practical old garments, and putting new wine into nature-in all that concerned the manageold bottles,' striving to diminish to an in- ment of affairs or the conduct of life, his visible line the interval between some of the judgment was both penetrating and prodoctrines of his adversaries and his own, found. Hence, while nothing can be more adopting all sorts of little artifices and con- flimsy than his metaphysics, nothing can be venient ambiguities of expression, to show more generally sound than his practical the harmony of doctrines which must be judgments. Incapable of stating truth with eternally discordant-Luther boldly remon-philosophical precision, or laying it down strates against a policy so ruinous; assures with all its requisite limitations, he was a him that, whatever the apparent pliability great master of that rough moral computaof Rome, nothing but absolute submission tion, which contents itself for practical purwould satisfy her imperious spirit; and that the true policy of the Reformers was what * De Wette, vol. iv. p. 52, + lb, p. 88. poses with approximate accuracy. This character, and look most provokingly phiwas especially the case in relation to that losophic as to whether his views are effectclass of truths, in which a magnanimous ually urged on mankind or not. At all mind, and lofty moral instincts, anticipate the lagging deductions of reason; and which are better understood and enforced by the heart than by the head. Ilis writings abound in weighty and solid maxims, in which both the data and the demonstration are alike suppressed. events, if he become a zealous writer on their behalf, it requires something more to encounter suffering for them; and while almost every religion has had those who have dared all and endured all in its defence, the annals of science scarcely present us with the name of a single authentic martyr. To great sagacity Luther also added, in Philosophers have been illustrious benefaca pre-eminent degree, that passionate ear-tors of mankind; but it requires more ennestness of character which leads men not ergy of passion, and a sterner nature than only to hold truth tenaciously, but to take generally falls to their lot, to ruffle it with every means in their power to diffuse, the world-to encounter obloquy, persecupropagate, and realize it; to make it vic- tion, and death in defence of truth. Even torious. In Luther, no doubt, the princi- Galileo was but too ready to recant when pal spring of this impulse was depth of re- menaced with martyrdom, and to set the ligious conviction; but the tendency itself sun, which he had so impiously stopped, on is as much an element of character in some his great diurnal, journey again. It is true men, as the love of contemplation is in others. It is a form of ambition-a noble one, it is true-the ambition of intellectual dominion; and has actuated many a philosopher who flattered himself that he was single-eyed in his pursuit of wisdom. This warlike and polemic spirit is, no doubt, often most inconsistent with a calm and cautious survey of all the relations and de- Nor can it be said that the class of phitails of great questions. But it is well for losophers have in general been disposed to the world that there are some who, with risk more, where truth has been practical speculative powers at least robust enough and better calculated to influence the affecto enable them to seize large fragments of tions. The ancient philosophers are a notruth, are immediately impelled to commu- torious example of the contrary. They nicate it. Partial truth diffused, is better than perfect truth supressed-better than stark ignorance and error-better than that condition of things in which Luther found the world. And if the vehemence, natural to such minds, sometimes precipitates the conclusions of reason, or substitutes prejudices for them, it is to be remembered that it will be long before the same earnestness and zeal, in contending for truth, will be manifested by those intellects which abstractedly are best qualified to investigate it. It would, doubtless, be very beautiful to see the tranquillity of the philosopher conjoined with the fire of the advocate-first, intellect without passion, and then intellect with it. But it is a condition denied to us. If there be great energy of character, the processes of reason will often be precipitated or disturbed; if the coolness and equanimity of temperament which these require, the same qualities will unhappily continue to operate when their work is completed. The philosopher will still be apt to vindicate his that he is said to have relapsed into heresy the moment after he had recanted, and drolly whispered, ' But the earth does move though.' Yet while the profession of error was uttered aloud, the confession of truth was made sotto voce. As Pascal says of the reservations of the Jesuits, C'est dire la vérité tout bas, et un mensonge tout haut. saw and scorned the puerilities of the ancient systems of superstition, but without vigorously attempting to destroy them, or to substitute better notions in their place. It was sufficient for them to make the convenient distinction between the exoteric and the esoteric. They could join in the popular rites with gravity of face and laughter in their hearts, and worship their gods and sneer at them at the same time. The vehemence of Luther's passions, and the energy of his will, formed most remarkable features of his character-as much so assuredly as any quality of his intellectand enabled him, in conjunction with that lofty confidence, that heroic faith-which seemed to take for literal truth the declaration, 'what things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them '-to effect greater things than were probably ever effected by the same qualities before. Not only the pliant Melancthon yielded to the superior decision and energy of his nature, as much, at least, as to his judgment, but Princes and No bles often yielded to it; and as to the com- indulgences, of the monastic institute, of mon people, his confident bearing and reso- the celibacy of the clergy, of the mass, of lute will achieved more than half his victo- the usurpations of the Pope. The spectary over them. In many instances, he seems cle is a noble one. The maxims and the to have made his way solely by the influ- institutes which he denounced with so much ence of an all-conquering enthusiasm and energy and confidence, had been consecratan inflexible purpose. His faith realized ed by universal veneration, and were coverits own visions, and almost literally proveded by the awful hoar of ages.' The preitself to be capable of removing mountains.' That judices which he vanquished had been instilled into his childhood, and they were reOn comparatively trivial occasions, and tained till he reached manhood; they were when in the wrong, (not seldom the case,) the prejudices of all his contemporaries; this intensity of passion and inflexibility of they held dominion not only over the most purpose, must have made him no very plea- timid, but over the most powerful intellects; sant coadjutor. Even the amiable Melanc- they had bound even 'kings in chains, and thon murmured after his death at the severi- nobles in fetters of iron;' and almost every ty of that yoke, which, while Luther lived, attempt, certainly all recent attempts to dehe bore with much enduring meekness. molish them, had been crushed by a despotWe wish, for Melancthon's own manhood, ism which united the utmost degree of he had either murmured earlier, or not craft with the most ruthless employment murmured at all. But in a great crisis, of violence, and was the most compact and where the Reformer was in the right, and formidable the world ever saw. the qualities of mind we are now consider- he should have been able to denude himself ing, exhibit him in aspects full of grandeur. of such prejudices-boldly to avow this His enthusiasm is heroic, his energy of great mental revolution—and give utterance will sublime. It is curious to contrast his to a series of novel and startling dogmas in almost childish obstinacy and rabid virulence in relation to Zwingle and the Sacramentarians, with the dignity of his deportment, under the influence of similar inflexibility of character, before and at the diet of Worms. It was with him as with many powerful minds-great occasions calmed him; the energy was commensurate to the objects which called it forth; the weight upon the machine was proportional to its momentum; and slow and majestic movement took the place of a self-destroying and turbulent force. opposition to them, is an example of independence and fearlessness of mind, which the world had never before witnessed. Nor Our wonder is still further increased, when we reflect that Luther himself was originally as passionate a devotee of the system he renounced, as he afterwards became of that for which he renounced it. could he have been otherwise. The very depth and sincerity of his character forbade that he should hold any thing lightly; and whether he was right or wrong, he was always in earnest. While he was a Papist, There was one peculiarity about Luther, he was a blind one; like Paul, an Hebrew of which we know not whether it most illus- of the Hebrews; and, as touching the law, trates the robustness of his intellect or the a Pharisee.' He was none of those halfenergy of his will, but it renders his charac-infidel ecclesiastics who abounded at Rome, ter absolutely unique. We mean the ra- and were the natural offspring of the age; pidity and comparative ease with which he triumphed over the deepest prejudices of his age and education;-Roman Catholics would doubtless say over his happiest prepossessions. But this matters not to our present observation, which respects the singular character of the transformation, not its nature;-though Protestants have pretty well made up their minds, that in all the great principles he so vigorously extricated and so boldly avowed, he showed as well The account of his youthful visit to the rectitude as the force of his understand- Rome, as given by himself, confirms this ing-as in his advocacy of the supremacy statement. The profound veneration with of the Scriptures, and in his condemnation which he approached the holy city; the (under the guidance of that principle) of passionate devotion with which he visited men who saw through the superstition which they yet sanctioned, and conducted, with edifying solemnity of visage, the venerable rites at which they were all the while internally chuckling. He himself tells us, (1539)—'I may and will affirm with truth, that at the present time there is no Papist so conscientiously and earnestly a Papist as I once was!' He repeats this in various forms in his letters. sacred places, and engaged in public rites; [ to the interdict,) will condemn and publicthe shock and revulsion of feeling with ly burn the whole pontifical code.' which he discovered that others were not Perhaps, next to his journey to Worms, so much in earnest as himself-all show the two most daring acts of his life were the how sincerely he was then attached to the burning the Papal bull, and his marriage. ancient system, and by what severe strug-Of the former, and of the tremendous defigles his spirit must have shaken off its thral-ance it implied, we have already spoken. dom. The spectacle of this mental revolu- But the latter step required almost equal tion is rendered still more inposing by the courage. His prejudices in relation to his comparative rapidity with which it was ef- monastic vows, as is seen by his corresponfected. In 1516 Luther was still a zealous dence, troubled him as much as any he had Papist; in October 1517, he published his to vanquish. Nor had he vanquished them Theses against Indulgences, and in less fully till his return from the Wartburg. than four years from that date, he had com- When he resolved to marry, (a resolution mitted himself to a contest with Rome on taken suddenly enough), one of his prime all the great principles of the Reformation. motives, if we may believe himself, was to How rapidly those principles disclosed give the utmost practical efficiency to his themselves, as the controversy proceeded, convictions, and encourage his followers in is sufficiently clear from constant evidences a conflict with a most powerful, because in his correspondence. In a letter dated most distressing class of associations. SupDec. 2, 1518, when expecting banishment posing this his motive, it was certainly not by Frederic, he says to Spalatin-If I re-only one of the boldest, but one of the most main here, I shall be without freedom of politic expedients he could have adopted. speech and writing; if I go, I will discharge He assures us, after giving other reasons for my conscience, and pour out my life for the step, that one was, ' ut confirmem facto Christ. A week after he says I shall yet quæ docui, tam multos invenio pusilanione day be a little freer against these Ro-mes in tanta luce evangelii.'* man hydras.' Three months later, he writes That this was his principal motive, we to Lange-Our friend Eck is meditating new contests against me, and will compel me to do what I have often thought of; that is, by the blessing of Christ, to inveigh more seriously against these monsters. For, hitherto, I have but been playing and trifling in this matter.' He repeats nearly the same words a fortnight after, to Scheurl-tined his Catharine for another. Never 'I have often said, that hitherto I have been trifling; but now more serious assaults are to be directed against the Roman pontiff and the arrogance of his ministers. In March 1519, he made this memorable confession-'I am reading the pontifical decretals,' (for the Leipsic disputation,) and I know not whether the Pope is Antichrist himself, or only his apostle.' In February 1520, he writes,-'I have scarcely a remaining doubt that the Pope is verily Antichrist. so well does he agree with him in his life, his acts, his words, and his decrees.' On the 10th of July, soon after the appearance of the bull of condemnation, he says to Spalatin-For me the die is cast-jacta est alea—the Papal wrath and Papal favor are alike despised by me; I will never be reconciled to them, nor communicate with them more. Let them burn my writings. I, unless I am unable to get a little fire, (doubtless alluding VOL. VI.-No .I 2 may well doubt; with passions so strong as his, it was not likely to be more than co-ordinate with others. But that it was a very real motive, we may safely conclude: he was now past the heyday of passion-was forty-two years old-had lived in the most blameless celibacy, and had at first predes did the cloister close upon one who was better qualified to appreciate and reciprocate the felicities of domestic life. As a husband and a father, his character is full of tenderness and gentleness; nor is there any part of his correspondence more interesting than his letters to his Kate,' and their little Johnny;' or those in which he alludes to his fireside. The clamors of his adversaries show how bold was the step on which he had ventured. Nothing less than Antichrist,' they said, 'could be the fruit of the union of a monk and a nun.' The taunt well justified the caustic sarcasm of Erasmus-'That there must already have been many Antichrists if that was the sole condition of their appearance.' Rapid as was Luther's conquest over his own prejudices, the revolution was still in perfect anology with similar revolutions in * De Wette, vol. iii. p. 13. |