Luther’s fame was rapidly extended, but as yet he had no idea of separating from the Church of Rome. In 1518, he wrote a submissive letter to the pope, in which he says, “I throw myself prostrate at your feet, most holy father: call or recall me, condemn or approve, as you please: I shall acknowledge your voice as the voice of Christ, who presides and speaks in your person.”
But the pope, who had once thought so lightly of Luther’s influence, was ere long seriously alarmed, and at last summoned him to appear at Rome, to be examined, within sixty days. The danger to Luther in doing this was obvious, and his friend the Elector of Saxony obtained permission to have his examination take place at Augsburg. Here Cardinal Cajetan, or Caietano, was commanded to examine him. Thither Luther went, accompanied by his friend Staupnitz. The cardinal required a recantation of what he had written; but this Luther refused. Warned of danger that threatened him, he left Augsburg, and returned to Wittemberg. The pope now issued a bull, declaring that he, as Christ’s vicar on earth, had power to deliver from all punishment due for sin, to those who repented and were in a state of grace, whether alive or dead. Luther now appealed from the pope to a general council of the church.
Pope Leo now commissioned a prelate, named Milnitz, to endeavor to bring Luther to a recantation. This dignitary was a man of talent and skill, and in an interview with Luther, he greatly conciliated the feelings of the latter. Milnitz condemned the abuse of the sale of indulgences, threw the blame upon Tetzel and his associates, and finally induced Luther to write another submissive letter to the pope, acknowledging that he had carried his zeal too far, and promising to observe silence upon the matter in debate, if his adversaries would adhere to the same line of conduct. This letter has subjected Luther to great scandal, as a retraction of his principles; but it must be regarded only as evidence of the profound reverence with which he regarded the institution of the Church of Rome, in whose faith he had been educated, and the difficulty with which his mind burst asunder the fetters which it had thrown around him. The pope himself at this period wrote a kind letter to Luther, and it is probable that the breach might have been healed, had not Luther’s enemies again opened the controversy.
Eckius of Ingoldstadt challenged Carolstadt, one of Luther’s disciples, to an open discussion at Leipsic. Luther went thither himself, agreeing to take no part in the disputation. The debate attracted the great and the learned, from a vast distance. Among the listeners was the celebrated Melancthon, who was determined by what he here heard to devote himself to the cause of reform.
Eckius was a man of brilliant eloquence, and seemed to have the advantage of his antagonist, after a dispute of six days. It was then agreed, by Eckius’ desire, that Luther himself should enter the lists. The debate was continued for several days, and different accounts were given of the result; but Hoffmann, the rector of the University of Leipsic, who had been appointed judge of the disputation, considering it to be so equally balanced, that he refused to pronounce a decision.
Luther went on to write several works, mostly questioning the lofty assumptions of the Church of Rome. He exposed the fatuity of penance, and pilgrimages; the impiety of worshipping saints; and the abuses of the confessional; he condemned the celibacy of priests, and denounced monastic vows. Leo now assembled a congregation of cardinals, before whom Luther’s works were laid for adjudication. By their advice, a bull was drawn up, in which forty-one propositions, taken from his books, were denounced as heretical; his writings were condemned to be publicly burnt, and he himself was summoned to appear at Rome, and retract his writings on pain of excommunication. Luther again appealed to a general council of the church; and publicly separated himself from the communion of the Church of Rome, by burning the pope’s bull on a pile of wood, without the walls of Wittemberg, in presence of a vast multitude of people. This occurred, December 10th, 1520. Soon after, the pope thundered against him his bull of excommunication.
The situation of the great Reformer was now one to put his moral courage to the severest test. Staupnitz, his early friend, had deserted him, and made peace with the church; Luther had written to Erasmus, of Rotterdam, who had written in behalf of reformation in the church, but that timid and irresolute scholar made him no answer. Even Spalatinus, once his ardent friend, was now seized with fear. Eckius, who had also been his friend, was, as we have seen, in open opposition to him. At the same time, society was violently torn with the questions which Luther had started. While some declared in his favor, the majority, including a vast preponderance of the rich and powerful, continued, even in Germany, to oppose him. By the rigid Catholics he was looked upon with horror. No terms too harsh could be found to heap upon his name; no scandal so vile could be invented, that it did not find believers; he was withal denounced by the papal bull of excommunication, that formidable and fearful curse, which few minds in that age had the iron hardihood to withstand. He was accused in the view of millions, who would have deemed it a service worthy of heaven to have taken the life of one regarded as a disciple of the Devil. The “arch-fiend” was a common title, bestowed upon him by his enemies. Yet, amid these perils, Luther stood as undaunted as the oak before the tempest; and though the lightning fell and the thunder burst upon and around him, he met it all unscathed.
Luther had, indeed, one powerful and steadfast friend,—Frederick the Elector of Saxony. The pope had endeavored to persuade him to give up the dreaded and hated priest, but in vain. He now sought to accomplish his object by other means. Maximilian, the Emperor of Germany, was dead, and Charles V., King of Spain, in 1518, had been elected in his place. Leo applied to him to make an example of Luther, as an obdurate heretic. Frederick interposed, and persuaded Charles to cause him to be tried by a diet of the empire at Worms. Having obtained the emperor’s safe-conduct, Luther set forward upon his journey to that place, for his trial.
His friends trembled for the issue; every heart seemed burthened save his own. Melancthon, now his intimate friend, attended him. Luther, in the pulpit, seemed to breathe only of religion: in society, he was frank, cheerful, and engaging. He cultivated every innocent thing that could make life more agreeable. He went on his way to Worms, which many expected would prove his grave, with perfect equanimity, saying, “If it is God’s will that I die, I am prepared; yet I believe that my time has not yet come.”
He arrived at Worms on the 16th of April, 1521. On entering the town, he began singing the hymn—“Our God is a strong citadel”—and this became the inspiring song of the Reformation. Numbers of Luther’s friends, who were with him, alarmed as they approached the city of Worms, deserted him; but his cheerfulness continued unchanged.