CHAPTER II

The War seems ended in Germany—Eck Revives the Contest—Debate between Eck and Carlstadt—The Question of the Pope—Luther Replies—Alarm of Luther’s Friends—Luther’s courage—Truth triumphs single-handed—Refusal of Duke George—Delight of Mosellanus and Fears of Erasmus.

While the combat was only beginning beyond the limits of the empire it seemed to him almost ceased within it. The most blustering soldiers of Rome, the Franciscan monks of Jûterbock, after having imprudently attacked Luther, had, after a vigorous rejoinder from the Reformer, hastened to resume silence. The partisans of the pope were quiet; and Tezel was unfit for service. Luther’s friends conjured him not to persist in the contest, and he had promised to comply. The theses were beginning to be forgotten. By this perfidious peace the eloquent tongue of the Reformer was completely paralysed; and the Reformation seemed to be arrested. “But,” says Luther afterwards, when speaking of this period, “men were imagining vain things, for the Lord had arisen to judge the nations.” “God,” says he in another place, “does not lead but urges and hurries me along. I am not my own master. I would fain be at rest, but am precipitated into the midst of tumult and revolution.”³ The person who renewed the contest was Eck the schoolman, Luther’s old friend, and the author of the Obelisks. He was sincerely attached to the papacy, but seems to have been devoid of genuine religious sentiment, and to have belonged to a class of men, at all times too numerous, who value learning, and even theology and religion, merely as a means of gaining a name in the world. Vain glory lurks under the priest’s cassock as well as the soldier’s helmet. Eck had studied the art of disputation according to the scholastic rules, and was an acknowledged master in this species of warfare. While the knights of the middle ages, and the warriors at the period of the Reformation, sought glory in tournaments, the schoolmen sought it in the syllogistic disputations, which were often exhibited in universities. Eck, who was full of himself, stood high in his own opinion, and was proud of his talents, of the popularity of his cause, and the trophies which he had won in eight universities in Hungary, Lombardy, and Germany, eagerly longed for an opportunity of displaying his power and dexterity in debate with the Reformer. He had spared nothing to secure the reputation of being one of the most celebrated scholars of the age. He was ever seeking to stir up new discussions, to produce a sensation, and by means of his exploits procure access to all the enjoyments of life. A tour which he made in Italy had, by his own account been only a series of triumphs. The most learned of the learned had been constrained to subscribe to his theses. A practised bravado, he fixed his eyes on a new field of battle, where he thought himself secure of victory. That little monk, who had grown up all at once into a giant, that Luther, whom no one had hitherto been able to vanquish, offended his pride, and excited his jealousy. It might be that Eck, in seeking his own glory, might destroy Rome … but scholastic vanity was not to be arrested by any such consideration. Theologians, as well as princes, have repeatedly sacrificed the general interest to their individual glory. Let us attend to the circumstances which gave the doctor of Ingolstadt an opportunity of entering the lists with his troublesome rival. The zealous but too ardent Carlstadt was still of one mind with Luther—the special bond of union between them being their attachment to the doctrine of grace, and their admiration of St. Augustine. Carlstadt, who was of an enthusiastic temperament, and possessed little prudence, was not a man to be arrested by the address and policy of a Miltitz. In opposition to the Obelisks of Dr. Eck, he had published theses in which he defended Luther and their common faith. Eck had replied, and Carlstadt, determined not to leave him the last word, had rejoined. The combat grew warm. Eck, eager to avail himself of so favourable an opportunity, had thrown down the gauntlet; and the impetuous Carlstadt had taken it up. God employed the passions of these two men to accomplish his designs. Though Luther had taken no part in these debates, he was destined to be the hero of the fight. There are men whom the force of circumstances always brings upon the scene. Leipsic was fixed upon, and hence the origin of the celebrated discussion which bears its name.

Eck cared little about combating with Carlstadt, and even vanquishing him. Luther was the opponent whom he had in view. He accordingly employed every means to bring him into the field; and with this view published thirteen theses, directed against the leading doctrines which had been espoused by the Reformer. The thirteenth was in these terms:—“We deny that the Roman Church was not superior to other Churches before the time of Pope Sylvester; and we acknowledge at all times, that he who has occupied the see of St. Peter and professed his faith,² is the successor of St. Peter and the vicar of Jesus Christ.” Sylvester lived in the time of Constantine the Great; and hence Eck, in this thesis, denied that the primacy which Rome enjoyed was conferred on her by that emperor.

Luther, whose consent to remain silent had not been given without reluctance, was strongly excited when he read these propositions. He saw that he was the person aimed at, and felt that he could not, with honour, evade the contest. “This man,” said he, “names Carlstadt as his antagonist, and at the same time makes his assault upon me. But God reigns, and knows what result he designs to bring out of this tragedy. The question is not between Dr. Eck and me. God’s purpose will be accomplished. Thanks to Eck, this affair, which hitherto has been mere sport, will at length become serious, and give a fatal blow to the tyranny of Rome and the Roman Pontiff.”

Rome herself broke the agreement. She did more; when she renewed the signal for battle, she directed it to a point which Luther had not previously attacked. The subject which Dr. Eck singled out for his antagonists was the primacy of the pope. In thus following the dangerous example which Tezel had given, Rome invited the blows of the champion; and if she left her mangied members on the arena, she had herself to blame for the punishment inflicted by his mighty arm. The pontifical supremacy being once overthrown, the whole of the Roman platform fell to pieces. Hence the papacy was in imminent peril; and yet neither Miltitz nor Cajetan took any steps to prevent this new contest. Did they imagine that the Reformation would be vanquished, or were they smitten with that blindness by which the ruin of the mighty is accomplished?

Luther, who, by his long silence, had given an example of rare moderation, boldly met the challenge of his antagonist, whose theses he immediately opposed by counter theses. The last was in these terms:—“The primacy of the Church of Rome is defended by means of miserable decretals of the Roman pontiffs, composed within the last four hundred years; whereas this primacy is contradicted by the authentic history of eleven centuries, the declarations of Holy Scripture, and the canons of the Council of Nice, which is the purest of all Councils.” At the same time Luther thus wrote to the Elector:—“God knows it was my firm determination to be silent; and I rejoiced to see the game at length brought to a close. So faithfully have I observed the paction concluded with the pope’s commissioner, that I did not reply to Sylvester Prierias, notwithstanding of the taunts of adversaries and the counsels of friends. But now Dr. Eck attacks me, and not only me, but the whole University of Wittemberg besides. I cannot allow it to be thus covered with obloquy.” At the same time Luther wrote to Carlstadt, “I am unwilling, excellent Andrew, that you should engage in this quarrel, since I am the person aimed at.” “I will gladly lay aside my serious labours and enter into the sports of these flatterers of the Roman pontiff.” Then apostrophising his adversary with disdain, and calling from Wittemberg to Ingolstadt, he exclaims—“Now, then, my dear Eck, be courageous, and gird thy sword upon thy thigh, thou mighty man.⁴ Having failed to please you as mediator, perhaps I will please you better as antagonist. Not that I have any thought of vanquishing you, but after all the trophies which you have gained in Hungary, Lombardy, and Bavaria, (at least if we are to take your account for it,) I will give you an opportunity of acquiring the name of the conqueror of Saxony and Misnia, so that you will be for ever saluted by the glorious title of Augustus.”

All Luther’s friends did not share his courage, for up to this hour none had been able to withstand the sophistry of Dr. Eck. But what alarmed them most was the subject of dispute—the primacy of the pope!… How does the poor monk of Wittemberg dare to encounter this giant who for ages has crushed all his enemies? The courtiers of the Elector begin to tremble. Spalatin the confidant of the prince, and intimate friend of the Reformer, is full of anxiety. Frederick, too, feels uneasy: even the sword of the Knight of the Holy Sepulchre, with which he had been armed at Jerusalem, would be unequal to this warfare. Luther alone feels no alarm. His thought is, “The Lord will deliver him into my hands.” The faith with which he is animated enables him to strengthen his friends. “I beg of you, my dear Spalatin,” said he, “not to give yourself up to fear; you know well that if Christ was not with me, all that I have done up to this hour must have been my ruin. Was it not lately written from Italy, to the chancellor of the Duke of Pomerania, that I had upset Rome, and that, not knowing how to appease the tumult, they were purposing to attack me not according to the forms of justice, but by Roman finesse, (the very words used,) that is, I presume, by poison, ambush, and assassination?”

“I restrain myself, and from love to the Elector, and the university, keep back many things which I would employ against Babylon, were I elsewhere. O! my poor Spalatin! it is impossible to speak of Scripture and of the Church without irritating the beast. Never, therefore, hope to see me at rest, at least, until I renounce theology If this work is of God, it will not be terminated before all my friends have forsaken me, as Christ was forsaken by his disciples. Truth will endure single-handed, and triumph in virtue of its own prowess, not mine or yours, or any man’s. If I fall, the world will not perish with me. But, wretch that I am, I fear I am not worthy to die in such a cause.” “Rome,” he again wrote about this time, “Rome is burning with eagerness to destroy me, while I sit quiet and hold her in derision. I am informed that, in the field of Flora at Rome, one Martin Luther has been publicly burned in effigy, after being loaded with execrations. I abide their fury.² The whole world,” continues he, “is in agitation, heaving to and fro. What will happen? God knows. For my part, I foresee wars and disasters. The Lord have mercy on us.”

Luther wrote letter after letter to Duke George, in whose states Leipsic is, entreating permission to repair thither and take part in the debate, but received no answer. The grandson of the Bohemian king, Podiebrad, alarmed at Luther’s proposition concerning the pope, and afraid of seeing Saxony involved in the wars of which Bohemia had so long been the theatre, was unwilling to grant the doctor’s request. Luther, therefore, determined to publish explanations of his thirteenth Thesis. But this treatise, far from persuading Duke George, on the contrary, confirmed him in his resolution. Positively refusing to give the Reformer authority to debate, he merely allowed him to be present as a spectator. This was a great disappointment to Luther. Nevertheless, as he had only one wish, and that was to obey God—he resolved to attend as a spectator, and await the result. The prince at the same time did every thing in his power to forward the discussion between Eck and Carlstadt. Duke George was devoted to the ancient doctrine; but he was upright and sincere, and friendly to free enquiry, and did not think that an opinion was to be charged with heresy, merely because it displeased the court of Rome. The Elector, moroever, urged his cousin to permit the discussion; and the duke, confirmed by Frederick’s statements, ordered it to take place.

Bishop Adolphus of Merseburg, in whose diocese Leipsic is situated, was more alive than Miltitz and Cajetan, to the danger of trusting such important questions to the chances of single combat. Rome could not expose the fruit of the labours of so many ages to such hazard. All the theologians of Leipsic were equally alarmed, and implored their bishop to prevent the discussion. Adolphus accordingly presented most energetic remonstrances to Duke George, who replied with much good sense. “I am surprised at seeing a bishop so terrified at the ancient and laudable custom of our fathers in examining doubtful questions as to matters of faith. If your theologians refuse to defend their doctrines, the money given to them would be far better employed in the maintenance of aged women and young children who would be able at least to spin and sing.” This letter had little effect on the bishop and his theologians. There is in error a secret consciousness which makes it dread enquiry even when making loud professions of being favourable to it. After an imprudent advance it makes a cowardly retreat. Truth did not give the challenge, but firmly stood its ground. Error gave it, and ran off. Moreover, the prosperity of the university of Wittemberg, excited the jealousy of that of Leipsic. The monks and priests inveighed from the pulpits of that city, urging the people to shun the new heretics, slandering Luther, and painting him, as well as his friends, in the blackest colours, in order to stir up the fanaticism of the populace against the Reformers. Tezel, who was still alive, awoke to cry from the depth of his retreat,—“It is the devil that is forcing on this contest.”²

All the professors of Leipsic, however, did not participate in these apprehensions. Some belonged to the indifferent class, consisting of persons who are always ready to laugh at the faults of both parties. Of this class was the Greek professor Peter Mosellanus, who cared very little for John Eck, Carlstadt, and Martin Luther, but anticipated great amusement from the strife. Writing to his friend Erasmus, he says, “John Eck, who is the most illustrious of pen gladiators and rhapsodists, and like the Socrates of Aristophanes, contemns even the gods, is to have a turn in debate with Andrew Carlstadt. The battle will end in uproar, and there will be laughter in it for ten Democratuses.” The timid Erasmus, on the contrary, was frightened at the idea of a combat, and his prudence, ever ready to take alarm, would fain have prevented this discussion. In a letter to Melancthon, he says, “If you will be advised by Erasmus, you will be more anxious to promote the advancement of sound literature than to attack the enemies of it. My belief is that, in this way, our progress will be greater. Above all, while engaged in this struggle, let us not forget that victory must be obtained, not only by eloquence, but also by moderation and meekness.” Neither the alarms of priests, nor the prudence of pacificators, could now prevent the combat. The parties made ready their weapons.