And Luther rose, gathered his robe about him, smiled affectionately and encouragingly upon his appalled friends, and with a step of even greater resoluteness than ever, left the sacristy.

CHAPTER XII.

"CARE heedfully for this letter, my good Schwärtz,” said Luther, as he handed it to the Elector's messenger.

This occurred in the cell of Doctor Martin, and at the hour, immediately after Vespers, which the Reformer had, as we have said above, appointed.

Schwärtz, having reverently received it, still stood waiting for some inquiries or some additional instructions. Luther, however, uttered nothing more-nay, looked restless, as if he wished his young friend to retire.

"What has come over him?" thought Schwärtz. "This morning, and even amid such excitement, he could ask me upon other matters, and in truth they were trivial enough in comparison with those that then concerned himself. But now, not one word, not one questioning!"

"Do you hesitate to carry back my answer, good Schwärtz?" demanded Luther, looking wonderingly upon the young messenger, who paused to obey.

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Hesitate, reverend Father!" exclaimed the latter.

"Never. You told us no later than this morning, what would be the purport of this letter, and I have thanked Almighty God, ever since I knew your resolution."

"Then why not carry it, and in all haste ?" asked Luther.

"Have you no questionings to put to me?" "None, good Schwärtz; none whatever."

“And will you, Father, go alone to Worms? Shall none of us share your dangers, if dangers there shall be? Your many friends will ask if you sent no message of remembrance. Shall I say nay?"

It is easy to understand the laconic treatment with which Martin Luther had thus received his old favourite pupil; and why, instead of diverging off from the grave thoughts that oppressed him, instead of relieving his burdened spirit by sundry queries about the interests and well-being being of others that were most dear to him, he was showing such reserve.

Throughout his great and perilous career, Luther never forgot, often exaggerated, his own individualism in that mighty movement of which he might, with only some few qualifications, be said to be the author and the sustainer. We well know that frequently upon the occasion of a sudden and threatening crisis, he was wont to revert back upon the support and fidelity of Melancthon. Nevertheless, the law of self-concentration ruled him, ruled him tyrannically, and was sadly often the source of sorrow and of errors.

He had left the sacristy impressed with the convic

tion that he, and he alone, would have to stand the brunt of the contest to which he was summoned at Worms. His friends, all of them, had shown faintheartedness. And who can wonder that the fire within his bosom became self-involving; that it fed upon itself instead of seeking fuel from the sympathy and the counsel of other men?

It, therefore, was not strange that one whose heart, at moments when it had but the commonest fair-play, threw out its embracing tendrils of affection and concern for others, was at this stern moment intensely, yea, exclusively subjective in its action.

Martin Luther answered nothing to the affectionate words of Schwartz save

Think

"Care heedfully for your mission, my son. me not ungracious or unloving: I would be alone. Should my friends ask for me and about this our interview, then tell the whole, good Schwärtz. They will understand."

And when Doctor Martin Luther found himself alone, as soon as Schwärtz had left him, he barred his cell door and sat down to think!

First in its evil agency, there was his own physical depression from the effort and passion of the morning; there was then in addition the gloom of solitude: and he felt that gloom ever since he had fled from the continuous darkness of his monastery into the light of social life. And then, and then, thick in crowds, and all of them sombre and foreboding, there flocked fancies manifold. He a lone man, a poor monk (and his me

lancholy was not to be cheated away by thoughts of the renown and homage which he had achieved already), he now, undistracted from himself or from a view of his own position, was called to ponder upon the present, and to aim at becoming a seer to himself for the future. Dreadful were his ruminations-dreadful, if we may use that term in description of the anguish which they caused him.

"And," murmured he, " am I exorcised from Holy Mother Church, as if I was a devil? Doth the socalled Vicar of God banish me from the realm of Christ? Is my poor head to feel-and alone!-the forked lightnings of the wrath of the Eternal!"

Martin Luther clasped his hands upon his forehead, bowed that forehead upon his desk, and groaned aloud.

"I must appear before the Diet, must I?" so continued his soliloquy. "And I must proclaim before the princes of the earth my supreme fealty to the Lord Jesus Christ, the King of kings, and the Lord of lords. And for the Lord Jesu's sake I must accept and wear for ever an anathema maranatha, must I?"

"Yes, verily, and thou shalt wear it as an evereating, ever-voracious chaplet around thy brow. It shall first scorch thy flesh; it shall consume thine everrenewed and ever-renewing brain; and a livid garland shall it be to thee, as thou móvest among apostates, to whom is reserved blackness and darkness for evermore!" a voice seemed to answer.

Luther raised his forehead from his desk, as it challenged him.