But there was another great personage, who now viewed the movement of Luther with any thing but indifference; and this was Melancthon — Leo X. Leo X., the reigning pope when the theses were published. He belonged to the illustrious family of the Medici, and was chosen cardinal at the age of thirteen. He was the most elegant and accomplished of all the popes, patronized art and literature, and ornamented his capital with palaces, churches, and statues. But with his sympathy for intellectual excellence, he was prodigal, luxurious, and worldly. Indeed, his spirit was almost infidel. He was more ambitious for temporal than spiritual power; and, when he commenced his reign, the papal possessions were more extensive and flourishing, than at any previous period. His leading error was, his recklessness in the imposition of taxes, even on the clergy themselves, by which he lost their confidence and regard. With a very fine mind, he was, nevertheless, quite unfitted for his station and his times.
Thus far, he had allowed the outcry which Luther had raised against indulgences to take its course, and even disregarded the theses, which he supposed originated in a monkish squabble. But the Emperor Maximilian was alarmed, and wrote to the pope an account of Luther's differences with Tetzel. Frederic of Saxony had also written to his holiness, to palliate the conduct of Luther.
When such powerful princes became interested, Leo was startled. He summoned Luther to Rome, to be tried by Prierias. Luther, not daring to refuse, and not willing to obey, wrote to his friend Spalatin to use his influence with the elector to have his cause tried in Germany; and the pope, willing to please Frederic, appointed De Vio, his legate, to investigate the matter. Luther accordingly set out for Augsburg, in obedience to the summons of De Vio, although dissuaded by many of his friends. He had several interviews with the legate, by whom he was treated with courtesy and urbanity, and by whom he was dissuaded from his present courses. But all the persuasion and argument of the cardinal legate were without effect on the mind of Luther, whose convictions were not to be put aside by either kindness or craft. De Vio had hoped that he could induce Luther to retract; but, when he found him fixed in his resolutions, he changed his tone, and resorted to threats. Luther then made up his mind to leave Augsburg; and, appealing to the decision of the sovereign pontiff, whose authority he had not yet openly defied, he fled from the city, and returned to Wittemberg, being countenanced by the elector, to whom he also addressed letters. His life was safe so long as Frederic protected him.
The next event in the progress of Luther was the The Leipsic Disputation. Leipsic disputation, June, 1519. The pope seemed willing to make one more effort to convince Luther, before he proceeded to more violent courses. There was then at his court a noble Saxon, Charles Miltitz, whose talents and insinuating address secured him the high office of chamberlain to the pope. He accordingly was sent into his native country, with the dignity of legate, to remove the difficulties which De Vio had attempted. He tried persuasion and flattery, and treated the reformer with great civility. But Luther still persisted in refusing to retract, and the matter was referred to the elector archbishop of Trèves.
While the controversy was pending, Dr. Eck, of the university of Ingolstadt, a man of great scholastic ingenuity and attainment, and proud of the prizes of eight universities, challenged the professors of Wittemberg to a public controversy on Grace and Free Will. He regarded a disputation with the eye of a practised fencer, and sought the means of extending his fame over North Germany. Leipsic was the appointed arena, and thither resorted the noble and the learned of Saxony. Eck was among the first who arrived, and, soon after, came Carlstadt, Luther, and Melancthon.
The place for the combat was a hall in the royal palace of Duke George, cousin to the elector Frederic, which was arranged and ornamented with great care, and which was honored by the presence of the duke, and of the chief divines and nobles of Northern Germany. Carlstadt opened the debate, which did not excite much interest until Luther's turn came, the antagonist whom Eck was most desirous to meet, and whose rising fame he hoped to crush by a brilliant victory. Ranke thus describes Luther's person at this time. "He was of the middle size, and so thin as to be mere skin and bone. He possessed neither the thundering voice, nor the ready memory, nor the skill and dexterity, of his distinguished antagonist. But he stood in the prime of manhood and in the fulness of his strength. His voice was melodious and clear; he was perfectly versed in the Bible, and its aptest sentences presented themselves unbidden to his mind; above all, he inspired an irresistible conviction that he sought the truth. He was always cheerful at home, and a joyous, jocose companion at table; he even, on this grave occasion, ascended the platform with a nosegay in his hand; but, when there, he displayed the intrepid and self-forgetting earnestness arising from the depth of a conviction, until now, unfathomed, even by himself. He drew forth new thoughts, and placed them in the fire of the battle, with a determination that knew no fear and no personal regard. His features bore the traces of the storms that had passed over his soul, and of the courage with which he was prepared to encounter those which yet awaited him. His whole aspect evinced profound thought, joyousness of temper, and confidence in the future. Principles of the Leipsic Disputation. The battle immediately commenced on the question of the authority of the papacy, which, at once intelligible and important, riveted universal attention." Eck, with great erudition and masterly logic, supported the claim of the pope, from the decrees of councils, the opinions of scholastics, and even from those celebrated words of Christ to Peter—"Thou art Peter, and on this rock will I build my church," &c. Luther took higher and bolder ground, denied the infallibility of councils, and appealed to Scripture as the ultimate authority. Eck had probably the advantage over his antagonist, so far as dialectics were concerned, being a more able disputant; but Luther set at defiance mere scholastic logic, and appealed to an authority which dialectics could not reach. The victory was claimed by both parties; but the result was, that Luther no longer acknowledged the authority of the Roman church, and acknowledged none but the Scriptures.
The Leipsic disputation was the grand intellectual contest of the Reformation, and developed its great idea—the only great principle, around which all sects and parties among the Protestants rally. This is the idea, that the Scriptures are the only ultimate grounds of authority in religion, and that, moreover, every man has a right to interpret them for himself. The Rights of Private Judgment. The rights of private judgment—that religion is a matter between the individual soul and God, and that every man is answerable to his own conscience alone how he interprets Scripture—these constitute the great Protestant platform. Different sects have different views respecting justification, but all profess to trace them to the Scriptures. Luther's views were similar to those of St. Augustine—that "man could be justified by faith alone," which was his great theological doctrine—a doctrine adopted by many who never left the communion of the Church of Rome, before and since his day, and a doctrine which characterized the early reformers, Zwingle, Calvin, Knox, Cranmer, and the Puritans generally. It is as absurd to say that Luther's animating principle in religion was not this doctrine, as it is unphilosophical to make the reformation consist merely in its recognition. After Luther's convictions were settled on this point, and he had generally and openly declared them, the main contest of his life was against the papacy, which he viewed as the predicted Antichrist—the "scarlet mother of abominations." It is not the object of the writer of this History to defend or oppose Luther's views, or argue any cause whatever, but simply to place facts in their true light, which is, to state them candidly.
Although the Leipsic controversy brought out the great principle of the Reformation, Luther's views, both respecting the true doctrines and polity of the church, were not, on all points, yet developed, and were only gradually unfolded, as he gained knowledge and light. It was no trifling matter, even to deny the supremacy of the Roman church in matters of faith. He was thus placed in the position of Huss and Jerome, and other reformers, who had been destroyed, with scarcely an exception. He thus was brought in direct conflict with the pope, with the great dignitaries of the church, with the universities, and with the whole scholastic literature. He had to expect the violent opposition and vengeance of the pope, of the monks, of the great ecclesiastical dignitaries, of the most distinguished scholars, and of those secular princes who were friendly to Rome. He had none to protect him but a prince of the empire, powerful, indeed, and wise, but old and wavering. There were but few to uphold and defend him—the satirical Erasmus, who was called a second Lucian, the feeble Staupitz, the fanatical Carlstadt, and the inexperienced Melancthon. The worldly-minded, the learned, the powerful, and the conservative classes were his natural enemies. But he had reason and Scripture on his side, and he appealed to their great and final verdict. He had singular faith in the power of truth, and the gracious protection of God Almighty. Reposing on the greatness of his cause, and the providence of the omnipotent Protector, he was ready to defy all the arts, and theories, and malice of man. His weapon was truth. For truth he fought, and for truth he was ready to die. The sophistries of the schools he despised; they had distorted and mystified the truth. And he knew them well, for he had been trained in the severest dialectics of his time, and, though he despised them, he knew how to use them. The simple word of God, directed to the reason and conscience of men, seemed alone worthy of his regard.
But, beside Scripture and unperverted reason, he had another element of power. He was master of the sympathies and passions of the people. His father was a toiling miner. His grandfather was a peasant. He had been trained to penury; he had associated with the poor; he was a man of the people; he was their natural friend. He saw and lamented their burdens, and rose up for their deliverance. Luther's Elements of Greatness. And the people distinguished their true friend, from their false friends. They saw the sincerity, earnestness, and labors of the new apostle of liberty, and believed in him, and made an idol of him. They would protect him, and honor him, and obey him, and believe what he taught them, for he was their friend, whom God had raised up to take off their burdens, and point a way to heaven, without the intercession of priests, or indulgences, or penance. Their friend was to expose the corruptions of the clergy, and to give battle to the great arch enemy who built St. Peter's Church from their hard-earned pittances. A spirit from heaven enlightened those to whom Luther preached, and they rallied around his standard, and swore never to separate, until the great enemies of the poor and the oppressed were rendered powerless. And their sympathies were needed, and best services, too; for the great man of the age—the incarnated spirit of liberty—was in danger.