preached against the innovators, though without mentioning Carlstadt's name, and his progress was one continued triumph. It is true, that, in his subsequent visit to Orlamund, he had not the same success; but, in addition to his being in the wrong on the Sacramentarian question, Carlstadt was at that spot regarded as another Luther. Of the briefer compositions of Luther, few are more eloquent than the Letter he wrote to Frederic, when the Legate Cajetan wrote to urge that Prince to abandon the hated monk to the tender mercies of Rome. In this remarkable composition, which was thrown off on the same day in which he received the legate's Letter, he assures Frederic that he would prefer exile, to protection at the peril of his Prince's safety. The nobility of mind, the magnanimity it displays, are well worthy of Luther; but without denying them, we cannot but think that the whole Letter, as well as that to Spalatin on the same occasion, is constructed with consummate skill; and that, while resolving on that course which his own bold and lofty spirit prompted, he has introduced all those topics which were likely either to move the sympathy or alarm the pride of the Prince. If we praise his magnanimity,' says Dr Waddington, we must at the same time admire his forethought and discretion. The very pathos is irresistible. I am waiting your strictures,' says he to Spalatin, though the letter was, of course, intended for his master's eye, ' on the answer that I have sent to the legate's letter, unless you 'think it unworthy of any reply. But I am looking daily for 'the anathemas from Rome, and setting all things in order; so 'that, when they arrive, I may go forth prepared and girded like Abraham, ignorant whither I shall go-nay, rather well assured ' whither for God is every where.'* One brief passage in this Letter, not given by Waddington, and sadly mutilated by D'Aubigné, seems to us most happily conceived and expressed. Cajetan had urged the Elector to give up the monk, but contents himself with simply averring his 'certain knowledge of his guilt. Luther thus replies:-'But this I cannot endure, that my accuser should endeavour to make my most sagacious and 'prudent sovereign play the part of another Pilate. When the 'Jews brought Christ before that ruler, and were asked, "What 'accusation they preferred, and what evil the man had done?" They said, "If he had not been a malefactor, we would not have delivered him to thee." So this most reverend legate, when he has presented brother Martin, with many injurious * De Wette, vol. i. p. 198. speeches, and the prince may possibly ask, "What has the little brother done ?" will reply, "Trust me, illustrious prince, I speak the truth from certain knowledge, and not from opin'nion." I will answer for the prince-" Let me know this cer'tain knowledge; let it be committed to writing; formed into letters; and when this is done, I will send brother Martin to Rome, or rather I will seize and slay him myself; then I will 'consult my honour, and leave not a stain upon my fair fame. But as long as that certain knowledge' shuns the light, and appears only in assertions . . . I cannot trust myself in the 'dark.” . . . Thus would I answer him, illustrious prince. But your far-famed sagacity needs neither instructor nor prompter.' ... # 6 Of Cajetan, during the negotiations with him, he writes to Carlstadt- The legate will not permit me to make either a 'public or private defence. His wish, so he says, is to act the part of a father rather than of a judge; and yet he will listen 'to nothing from me but the words, "I recant and acknowledge my error"—and these words will I never utter... He styles me, ""sein lieben Sohn".... I know how little that means. Still, I doubt not I should be most acceptable and beloved if I would but say the single word Revoco. But I will not become a "heretic by renouncing the faith which has made me a Christian. Sooner would I be banished-burnt-excommunicated.'+ In the same lofty spirit of faith he eloquently exclaims, in a passage not cited by Waddington or D'Aubigné, Let who will be angry, '—of an impious silence will not I be found guilty, who am con'scious that I am "a debtor to the truth," howsoever unworthy. Never without blood, never without danger, has it been possi'ble to assert the cause of Christ; but as he died for us, so, in 'his turn, he demands that, by confession of his name, we should die for him. "The servant is not greater than his Lord." "If they have persecuted me," he himself tells us, "they will also persecute you; if they have kept my saying, they will keep yours also."'+ Passages such as these are constantly occurring in Luther's letters; and if they contain not the elements of eloquence, we profess that we are yet to seek the meaning of the term. And even if Luther's writings were less fraught with the traces of a vigorous intellect than they are, there are two achievements of his, the like of which were never performed except where there was great genius. First, such was his mastery over his native * De Wette, vol. i. pp. 183-4. † Ib. p. 161. Ib. p. 334. language, that, under his plastic hand and all-subduing energy, it ceased to be a rugged and barbarous dialect, almost unfit for the purposes of literature; for which, indeed, he might be said to have created it. Secondly, he achieved, almost single-handed, the translation of the whole Scriptures; and (whatever the faults which necessarily arose from the defective scholarship of the age) with such idiomatic strength and racy energy, that his version has ever been the object of universal veneration, and is unapproachable by any which has since appeared. The enthusiasm with which such a man as Frederic Schlegel speaks of it, shows that, in the eye of those who are most capable of judging, it is thought to have immense merit. In estimating the genius of Luther, as reflected in his writings, it is impossible to leave wholly out of consideration their quantity, the rapidity with which they were composed, and the harassing duties amidst which they were produced. He died at the no very advanced age of sixty-two, and yet his collected works amount to seven folio volumes. His correspondence alone fills, as we see, five bulky octavos. When we reflect that these works were not the productions of retired leisure, but composed amidst all the oppressive duties and incessant interruptions of a life like his, we pause aghast at the energy of character which they display; and wonder that that busy brain and ever-active hand could sustain their office so long. Of the distracting variety and complication of his engagements, he gives us, in more than one of his Letters, an amusing account. Their very contents, indeed, bear witness to them. The centre and mainspring of the whole great movement-the principal counsellor in great emergencies-the referee in disputes and differences amongst his own party-solicited for advice alike by Princes, and Scholars, and Pastors, on all sorts of matters, public and private having the care of all the churches,' and beset at the same time by a whole host of inveterate and formidable adversaries-the wonder is, not that he discharged many of his duties imperfectly, but that he could find time to discharge them at all. Not only are there numberless Letters on all the ordinary themes of condolence and congratulation, but of recommendation on behalf of poor scholars and pastors-of advice to distant ministers and churches in matters of ecclesiastical order and discipline-but letters sometimes affording whimsical proofs of the trivialty of the occasions on which his aid was sought, and the patience with which it was given: now he replies to a country parson who wanted to know how to manage the exordium and peroration of his sermons; now to a worthy prior to tell him the best mode of keeping his conventual accounts-that he may know precisely how much beer' and wine'-' cerevisia et vinum'. was consumed in the hospitium and refectory' respectively;* now to make arrangements for the wedding festival of a friend; now to plead the cause of a maiden of Torgau, whose betrothed (no less than the Elector's own barber) had given her the slip. † The very style of the Letters bears evidence to the pressure of duty under which they were written. Most of the shorter ones are expressed with a brevity, a business-like air, which reminds us of nothing so much as the style of a merchant's counting-house. Of the variety of his engagements, even before the conflict of his life commenced, (1516,) he says to his friend John LangeI could find employment almost for two amanuenses; I do 'scarcely any thing all day but write letters, so that I know not 'whether I may not be writing what I have already written :'you will see. I am conventual preacher, chaplain, pastor, and parish minister, director of studies, vicar of the priory, that is, prior eleven times over, inspector of the fisheries at Litzkau, counsel to the inns of Herzeberg in Torgau, lecturer on Paul, and expounder of the Psalms. At a later period he found there might be engagements yet heavier than these. In excuse of an absurd blunder in translating a Hebrew word, he writes (1521) I was distracted and occupied, as often happens, with various thoughts. I am one of the busiest of men: I preach twice a-day; I am compiling the psalter, labouring at the postils, replying to my adversaries, assailing the bull both in Latin and German, and defending myself, to say nothing of writing ' letters,' &c. I would have written to both our friends,' he says to James Strauss, (1524,) but it is incredible with what business I am overwhelmed, so that I can scarcely get through 'my letters alone. The whole world begins to press me down, 'so that I could even long to die or be translated.' mori vel tolli.' § Opto vel These last two passages, not cited by D'Aubigné or Waddington, perhaps better illustrate the pressure of his duties than the first, which they both have given. When, in addition to all this, we take into account the promptitude of his pen, and that his antagonists seldom had to wait long for an answer, we cannot be surprised that much which he wrote should have inadequately represented his mental powers. Nor is mere bulk to be left out of consideration in estimat * De Wette, vol. i. p. † Ibid. vol. ii. p. 317. ing the vigour of his intellect; for, though it is itself no criterion of genius-many of the most voluminous writers having been amongst the worst and dullest-yet if we find large fragments of such writings richly veined with gold, however impure the ore in which it is discovered, we may reasonably infer that if their authors had written less and with more elaboration, they would have left behind them far more splendid monuments of their genius; and thus, in the estimate of its true dimensions, the quantity of what they have written becomes an essential element. This consideration ought, in all fairness, to be applied not only to Luther but to all his great contemporaries, and to all the theologians of any eminence in the succeeding age. They wrote with far too great rapidity and frequency to do themselves full justice. The gold of genius is in their works, but spread out thin; its essence is there, but undistilled; in the shape of a huge pile of leaves, not in a little phial of liquid of intense odour. None can be more deeply convinced that the hasty and voluminous writings of Luther afforded but an inadequate index of his powers than was Luther himself. This is evident from his own estimate of his writings, formed at the close of life, and expressed in the general preface to his collected works. He there laments the haste with which they had often been composed, and the want of accuracy and method which distinguishes them. He even speaks of them in terms of unjust depreciation, and declares, no doubt in sincerity, but in strange ignorance of himself, his willingness that they should be consigned to oblivion, and other and better works which had subsequently appeared, substituted in their place. The following are sentences from this memorable preface. Multum diuque restiti illis qui meos libros, 'seu verius confusiones mearum lucubrationum voluerunt editas, 'tum quod nolui antiquorum labores meis novitatibus obrui, et lectorem a legendis illis impediri, tum quod nunc, Dei gratia, extent methodici libri quam plurimi. . . . . His rationibus ad'ductus, cupiebam omnes libros meos perpetuâ oblivione sepultos, 'ut melioribus esset locus.' 6 But whatever the merits of Luther's writings, we have already admitted that it is not in them that we look for the chief evidences of the power and compass of his intellect. His pretensions to be considered one of the great minds of his species, are more truly, as well as more wisely, rested on his actions-on the skill and conduct which he displayed through all the long conflict with his gigantic adversary, and the ineffaceable traces which he left of himself on the mind of his age, and on that of all succeeding time. The more his position at various periods is studied, and the deeper the insight into the history of his times, the more obvious, we are per |