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Catholics urged against Luther that the Church had been entrusted with the safeguarding of the Holy Books, with the handing down of the canon of Scripture and the correct interpretation of the same, and that, from the earliest Christian times, the Faithful had always left to the living Tradition, the General Councils and the Supreme Teacher of the Church—the Vicar of Christ and inheritor of the powers of Peter—the final decision in doctrinal questions and the correct and binding interpretation of Holy Scripture.

What Luther asserted, for instance, in his final letter to Dungersheim, brought the central dogma, namely, that of the teaching office of the Church, into still clearer light: “You have nothing else on your lips,” he says to Dungersheim and to all Catholics generally, “but the words Church, Church, heretic, heretic, and you will not admit that the injunction: ‘Prove all things, hold fast that which is good’ (1 Thess. v. 21), applies to any. But when we ask for the Church, you show us one man, the Pope, to whom you entrust everything [i.e. all decisions on matters of faith], and yet you do not prove by one word that his faith is unchangeable. Yet we have discovered in the Pope’s Decretals more heresies than any heretic ever invented. You ought to prove your standpoint and instead of this you always start from the same premiss.”[943] Theologians, as a matter of fact, had never claimed for all the contents of the Decretals a rank among the solemn pronouncements on faith. What is, however, more important is that Luther places the individual above the Church and the Primacy appointed by God; he puts the Scriptures in his hand, to interpret as he will. He continues as follows: “You ought to prove that the Church of God is with you and nowhere else in the world. We want the Scriptures for our judge, but you wish to be judges of the Scriptures.”[944]

In this connection, seeking to justify the bitterness of his polemics, he unwittingly gives an excellent portrait of himself: “You misinterpret the words I speak, just as the ass in your midst [Alveld] is doing at the present moment. This seems to be the way with you people of Leipzig, you read without attention, judge presumptuously, and are too stupid to understand the writings of others. Maybe my patience will come to an end and make room for anger, for I am after all as human as you; you sit there calmly and nag at me while I am oppressed with work and everyone shows me his teeth, and, forsooth, humility is expected of me while I am being attacked by ravening wolves. The weight of the globe presses upon me (‘orbis me premit’), and if I do so much as nod, you cannot endure it; if at last I turn round upon you, I am accused and found fault with on all sides. I write this to show my zeal for peace and concord; why, in God’s name, am I not allowed to enjoy them?”

He himself shows us later in what way he was desirous of “peace and concord.” From the words we have just quoted he seems, strange to say, to think that the Roman party had no right to fight for the great and sacred interests of Mother Church, nor to repel the attacks he was making upon so much which had hitherto been believed.

It is exceedingly sad to see how Luther, the once zealous religious, has become alienated more and more from the heart of the Church, from her life, ways of thought and feeling. Passion for his cause, precipitation, overstrain, both mental and bodily, the delusion that the whole world was watching the brave monk’s daring move, all this cuts him off, more even than his previous conduct, from practical association with the Church. His growing lukewarmness in religion is paving the way for his complete apostasy.

He confesses that he lived in a worldly turmoil of work and distractions, of parties and feastings which led him away “to immoderation, impropriety and negligence.” Recollection, penance and humility become more and more strangers to him, though he can still speak words of piety; everything is overcovered by the great struggle he has called into being; the less attention he devotes to the duties of the religious life, the more he gravitates to the Electoral Court, where Spalatin is ever busy seeking to provide him with a safe shelter. This is the talented man, so the Catholic sadly reminds himself, whose words might have assisted in calling forth a real reform within the Church, if, agreeably with the spirit and rules of the Church, he had only appealed to the Faithful and their pastors with earnestness and deliberation, with persistence and confidence in God. Instead of this, he pushed forward heedlessly in the slippery path to lay sacrilegious hands on the doctrine and the whole structure of the Church as existing up to that time.

At the close of this chapter some remarks may perhaps be permitted on certain mistaken or misunderstood tales concerning Luther, which belong to this period.

The history of the sermon referred to above (p. 334), delivered by Luther at Dresden in July, 1518, in the presence of Duke George of Saxony has recently been presented to Protestant readers in the traditional legendary form as “portraying the whole history of the following centuries.” If it were really so supremely important, then we ought, indeed, in our narrative to have put this sermon in a better light and assigned it a very different position. As a matter of fact, however, its contents are by no means of any great moment and do not even justify its description as “the trial sermon of the pale Augustinian monk.”

Duke George of Saxony, so we are told in this new and adorned version of the incident, “had applied to the Vicar-General of the Augustinians, Staupitz, requesting that he would procure for him an honest and learned preacher,” and Staupitz thereupon sent him Luther “with a letter of recommendation in which he described him as a highly gifted young man of proved excellence, both as regards his studies and his moral character.” As a matter of fact, however, it is only known that Luther happened to be in Dresden on July 25, 1518, on his way back from the Heidelberg Chapter. As he usually did, he took advantage of the opportunity afforded him of preaching. Of the letters of Duke George or of Staupitz history knows nothing.

The sermon was delivered in the castle (“in castro”) in the presence of the Court on the aforesaid day, which was a Sunday, and also the Feast of James the Greater.[945] The text was taken from the Gospel for the Feast in which our Saviour says to James and his brother: “Ye know not what ye ask” (Matt. xx. 22). On this text Luther, doubtless in his customary burning words, described “the foolishness of people in their prayers, and what the true object of prayer should be.” This is what he himself tells us.[946] He introduced among other things into the sermon a story about three virgins, which, he says, was “quite theological.” According to another account, he did not lose the opportunity of expressing the ideas which dominated him, namely, that those who listen to the Word of God with an attentive mind are true disciples of Christ, chosen, and predestinated for life everlasting, and that we must overcome “the fear of God”; he no doubt laid particular stress on faith and depreciated good works. It does not seem necessary to assume that there were two different sermons. “The evangelical certainty of Salvation, as against the traditional righteousness by works,” so runs the latest legendary account, “shone forth from his words more plainly than was agreeable to the Duke.”

Duke George was, and remained, a good Catholic. His opinion of Luther’s sermon is characteristic: “I would have given much money not to have heard it,” so he says, “because such discourses make men presumptuous.” This he repeated several times at table with great displeasure. The occasion which gave rise to this remark was that Barbara von Sala, a lady of the Court who was present, praised the sermon as most reassuring, and added that if she could hear such a sermon again she would die with a quiet mind.

At the Court much was said in disparagement of the sermon and the preacher, certain conversations of Luther in the town seeming to have contributed to this. The Prior of the Augustinian monastery at Dresden wrote afterwards to Luther telling him that many found fault with him as unlearned and arrogant, etc., that the sermon in the castle was made the ground for all sorts of reproaches; that it was also said that his story of the three virgins had been directed against three particular ladies at the Court, which surely was not the case. Shortly after, when preparing for the Disputation at Leipzig, Luther must evidently have feared that the Duke was not favourably disposed, for he wrote begging that, if he had displeased him, he would “graciously pardon everything.” The Duke replied that he was not aware of “any displeasure ever conceived by us against you.” Duke George, who was zealous for reform, was much in favour of Luther’s Indulgence theses and, after having come to an understanding with Eck, he sanctioned the Disputation at Leipzig notwithstanding the objections of the Bishop and the theological faculty.[947]

We know some details concerning Luther’s behaviour in the town, and the violent attacks on Thomas of Aquin and Aristotle, to which he gave vent, in the presence of some of the Leipzig theologians, at a dinner in Emser’s house. Luther, as he himself says, there defended the proposition, that “neither Thomas nor all the Thomists put together had understood a single chapter of Aristotle,” undoubtedly an extraordinary statement, yet one which, stripped of its cloak of hyperbole, is quite in Luther’s style. Not a single Thomist, he said on the same occasion, knew what was meant by keeping God’s Commandments.[948] A young Leipzig Master in the ensuing Disputation attacked him fiercely on this score, and declared later that he had stopped his mouth so completely that he was unable to say a word. A Dominican who was standing at the door listening angrily to the attacks upon the great Doctor of his Order, afterwards admitted that he had hardly been able to restrain himself from rushing into the room and spitting in Luther’s face.

This is all that the sources contain regarding Luther’s stay at Dresden. There is no justification for the proceeding of certain Protestant narrators who magnify the so-called “trial sermon,” and utilise Luther’s sojourn to make him utter unique predictions of the future. Other events of those years might with much greater truth be represented as momentous, particularly the Heidelberg Disputation from which Luther was then returning.

In private conversations at Dresden Luther showed clearly how far he had already separated himself from the older Church. Emser made representations to him on this score: “I told you of it plainly at Dresden,” he writes in the following year, “and again at Leipzig, warning you in a friendly manner and begging you to place some restraint upon your zeal and to avoid giving offence, and not to speak of the superstitious malpractices amongst us Catholics in such a way as at the same time to root out all belief, and to rob the German people of their faith.”[949] Elsewhere Emser explains: “A year before the Disputation at Leipzig [i.e. in 1518, and without doubt at Dresden] Luther declared that he cared nothing for the Pope’s excommunication and had already determined to die under it. And this, should he deny it, I am ready to prove.”[950] We may take it that Emser is here alluding to Luther’s rude answers to his adversaries, who, according to his own story, reproached him at Dresden with the sermon he had preached at Wittenberg on the “Power of Indulgences”; some portions of this sermon had already found their way to Dresden, though as yet it had not been printed. There is no doubt that Emser himself was among these adversaries. His statement about what Luther said is absolutely trustworthy, and shows how untrue the fable was that Luther was animated by the most peaceful of intentions and only against his will was dragged into a struggle which led eventually to his excommunication.

Luther’s stay at Dresden and Leipzig affords an opportunity for discussing two of his famous and oft-quoted utterances, which, in the sense they are generally employed against him, are historically doubtful. Emser, it is usually stated, with his own cars heard Luther declare that he was only waiting for an assurance of protection from the secular power in order to declare war on the Pope, and that Luther himself had admitted that his cause had not been begun for God’s sake.

The first utterance, so well revealing his low and cowardly standard, Luther is said to have given vent to at Dresden in 1518, telling Emser that if only a Prince would shield him, he would do his worst against the Church. But is Emser here really referring to words spoken by Luther himself? What he actually says is this: “Many people know that one of his Order had often and in divers places been heard to say that if he [Luther] only knew of a Prince who would have backed him, he would give Pope, Bishop and Parsons a fine time of it.”[951] In these words we have accordingly not an utterance of Luther’s own, but merely one of a brother monk. Neither is Dresden given as the place where this was said; on the contrary, the Augustinian referred to was heard to say these words in many different places. What he repeatedly said certainly does not redound to Luther’s credit, neither does it agree with the high-spirited defence of the truth which is generally attributed to him by Protestants. Whether the Augustinian spoke from a thorough knowledge of Luther, and whether what he said really renders words which Luther had spoken, cannot be determined. At any rate, the manner in which Luther acted in order to gain and retain the protection of the Elector, through the intermediary of Spalatin, gives some weight to the words.

The other statement said to have been made by Luther was as follows: “Let the devil do his utmost, the business was not begun for God’s sake and, for His sake, shall not be ended.” This Emser says he actually heard from Luther himself;[952] he tells Luther: “I warned you three times in a fraternal spirit and begged you for God’s sake to spare the poor people to whom you were certainly giving great scandal by this matter, and you at last answered me: ‘Let the devil, etc.’”

It is, however, very doubtful whether Luther would have said so plainly that his cause in the controversy had not been begun, and should not cease, for God’s sake (which is what Emser takes him as meaning). In his reply to Emser Luther declares he had meant something quite different by what he said and we have no right to set aside his explanation. He relates that the words were said to Emser in the Chancery of the castle at Leipzig on the occasion of the Disputation of 1519, but really of the opposite party who wished to do him “harm” by the proposed Disputation; Eck, who had “begun the Disputation,” Emser and the Leipzig theologians had a mind to injure thereby his teaching; “my words applied to them,” “not to myself,” those of “ours who were standing by” are my witnesses;[953] besides, he writes, he would have been “possessed” had he said: “I did not begin this in God’s name”; but, because in saying this he regretted “that the opposite party sought honour rather than the truth,” he said it “with sorrowful words and a sad mind.” Emser nevertheless stood to his version[954] and declared that Luther, far from speaking sadly, had said the words with eyes sparkling with anger; besides, Luther had had no right to say anything of the kind about Emser and the Leipzig theologians, as they had not then set on foot any measures against him.

It is quite likely that Emser gave Luther the threefold warning he speaks of above. But that Luther should have replied to the exhortation “to spare the poor people,” etc., by the strange statement that “the matter had not been begun for God’s sake” is so utterly unlikely that he was probably right in denying it in his reply to Emser.[955] We may safely assume that Emser was a little confused in his recollection of the interview; in his conversation in the castle at Leipzig he may have spoken of Luther’s action generally and of the Disputation in particular, whereupon Luther, thinking only of the Disputation, may well have said: “Let the devil,” etc.; which Emser, in the excitement of the dispute, took to refer to Luther’s action as a whole.

At any rate, Luther’s fear of giving scandal, according to his own letters, was not nearly so great as he makes out in his reply to Emser. Here, in the very passage under discussion, he overwhelms Emser with abuse, a fact which does not awaken confidence in his statements: “That man would indeed be a monster, even worse than Emser himself, who did not heartily grieve to cause annoyance to the poor people.” He calls his opponent a “poisonous, shameless liar,” a “murderer,” who spoke contrary to his own “heart and conscience.” “My great and joyful courage cuts you to the quick”; “Ecks, Emsers, Goats, Wolves and Serpents and such-like senseless and ferocious beasts” would have raved even against Christ Himself. In the same breath he declares, that in his behaviour up to that time “he had never once started a quarrel”; everything unfavourable that had been said of him was based merely on lies, which had been invented about him “these three years” and had become a crying scandal.