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.
[Illustration: FIG. l3.—THE EMPEROR MAXIMILIAN. (From his Portrait by Albert Dürer.)]
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.