youth the mere presence of maturity was a constraint.

One of the young girls, however, had presently emerged from the group, and, attaching herself to Mrs. Lidcote's side, had listened to her with a blue gaze of admiration which gave the older woman a sudden happy consciousness of her longforgotten social graces. It was agreeable to find herself attracting this young Charlotte Wynn, whose mother had been among her closest friends, and in whom something of the soberness and softness of the earlier manners had survived. But the little colloquy, broken up by the announcement of luncheon, could of course result in nothing more definite than this reminiscent emotion.

No, she could not yet tell how her own case was to be fitted into the new order of things; but there were more people "older people" Leila had put it-arriving by the afternoon train, and that evening at dinner she would doubtless be able to judge. She began to wonder nervously

who the new-comers might be. Probably she would be spared the embarrassment of finding old acquaintances among them; but it was odd that her daughter had mentioned no names.

Leila had proposed that, later in the afternoon, Wilbour should take her mother for a drive: she said she wanted them to have a "nice, quiet talk." But Mrs. Lidcote wished her talk with Leila to come first, and had, moreover, at luncheon, caught stray allusions to an impending tennis-match in which her son-in-law was engaged. Her fatigue had been a sufficient pretext for declining the drive, and she had begged Leila to think of her as peacefully reposing in her room till such time as they could snatch their quiet moment.

Caspar Sturm and accompanied by his colleague Nicholas Amsdorf, an Augustinian brother, John Petzensteiner, and one of his students, a young Pomeranian nobleman, Peter Swaben, Luther left Wittenberg on April 2, 1521, riding in state with his companions in a covered wagon. The city magistrates provided the conveyance and the university added funds for the journey. Condemned heretic though he was, town after town showed him distinguished honor as he passed through. The papal legate Aleander reported that his entire journey was nothing less than a triumphal procession. At Leipsic the city council sent him a gift of

At Erfurt, where his old friend Crotus was rector of the university, he was met outside the walls by an imposing deputation, and was greeted with an oration by the rector and a poem by Eoban Hesse, the most celebrated poet of the day. Early in his journey he was unpleasantly surprised to learn of the imperial mandate requiring the sequestration of his books. He was alarmed, he says, and trembled at the news, for it showed that the emperor was against him and he could hope for little from his own appearance at the diet. But his resolution to proceed remained unshaken.

According to his friend Myconius, when warned that he would be burned to ashes by the cardinals and bishops at Worms, and reminded of the fate that befell Hus at Constance, he replied, "Even if they kindled a fire as high as heaven from Wittenberg to Worms, I

obedience to the imperial summons, and would walk into behemoth's mouth, between his great teeth, and confess Christ." Though Myconius is not a very trustworthy reporter, the words have a genuine ring.

From Frankfort, where he stopped over night, Luther wrote Spalatin, who was already at Worms with the elector:

me.

We are coming, my Spalatin, although Satan has tried to stop me with more than one sickness. The whole way from Eisenach here I have been miserable and am still in a way not before experienced. Charles's mandate I know has been published to frighten But Christ lives, and we will enter Worms in spite of all the gates of hell and powers of the air. I send a copy of the imperial letter. I have thought it well to write no more letters until I arrive and see what is to be done, that Satan may not be puffed up, whom I am minded rather to terrify and despise. Arrange a lodging for me therefore. Farewell.

A year later, in a letter to the elector he remarked: "The devil saw clearly the mood I was in when I went to Worms. Had I known as many devils would set upon me as there were tiles on the roofs, I should have sprung into the midst of them with joy." Long afterward, in talking about his journey, he repeated the same words, and added: "For I was undismayed and feared nothing, so foolish can God make a man! I am not sure I should now be so joyful."

He reached his journey's end about ten o'clock on the morning of Tuesday, the sixteenth of April. His coming was announced by a trumpeter, and though it was the hour of the midday meal, the whole town poured out to see him. Aleander sent one of his attendants to witness the great heretic's arrival, and afterward wrote the papal vice-chancellor: "About a hundred horsemen, presumably Sickingen's, accompanied him to the city gate. Sitting in a wagon with three companions, he entered the city, surrounded by some eight riders, and took up his lodging in the neighborhood of his Saxon prince When he alighted, a priest threw his arms about him, touched his garments three times, and went away exulting, as if he

had handled a relic of the greatest of saints. I suspect it will soon be said he works miracles. This Luther, as he stepped from the wagon, looked about with his demoniac eyes and said, 'God will be with me.' Then he entered a chamber where many gentlemen visited him, with ten or twelve of whom he dined, and after dinner everybody ran in to see him."

In spite of the pressure he was under, he took the time the next morning to visit a sick nobleman who had expressed the desire to see him. After offering him spiritual consolation, he heard him confess, and administered the sacrament. It was thoroughly characteristic act, for he was never too busy to heed such calls. Always to the end of his days he remained a de

a

ual guide.

At four in the afternoon he appeared before the diet, sitting at the time in the bishop's palace, where the Emperor Charles and his brother Ferdinand were staying. The hall was filled with a large and distinguished company of princes, noblemen, high ecclesiastics, representatives of the various states and free cities of Germany, and ambassadors of foreign powers, including two from England. It was an impressive occasion, fraught with consequence not only for Luther himself, but for the empire and the world as well. The case of the condemned monk was only one of many items of business to engage the attention of the diet, and doubtless most of the members were far more interested in other matters of local or national concern. Few realized the seriousness of the situation, and fewer still appreciated the world-wide significance of the monk's appearance before the German emperor and estates. But all were curious to see and hear the man who had made such a stir, and it is not surprising that the hall was crowded, as well as the streets outside.

Aleander was scandalized to see the Wittenberg monk enter the hall with a smiling face and let his eyes rove over the assembled company instead of exhibiting the humility and fear appropriate to one

a delegate from the city of Augsburg, where he had entertained Luther at the time of his appearance before Cajetan, happened to be standing near and was greeted cheerily with the words, "What, you here, too, Herr Doctor?" Peutinger afterward saw him frequently during his stay in Worms, and reported to the Augsburg authorities that he found him always in excellent spirits.

As soon as he had reached his place, Luther was peremptorily required to say whether he acknowledged as his own a pile of some twenty books collected by the diligence of Aleander and arranged upon a table before him, and whether he would retract the whole or any part of their contents. He wondered, as he later remarked, where so many of his writings had been picked up; but when their titles had been read, he promptly acknowledged them as his own, adding that he had written many others besides. others besides. In reply to the second question, he asked for time to consider the matter, since faith and salvation and the divine word were involved, and to answer without premeditation might work injury to the word and endanger his own soul. The papal legates and imperial counselors were surprised and annoyed, but after some hesitation he was granted a delay of twenty-four hours.

It

Much speculation has been indulged in as to the reason for this request. In one of the many extant reports of the occasion from the pen of the Frankfort representative, Fürstenberg, Luther is said to have spoken in a low voice, as if he were frightened and confused. This has led to the common assumption that he was overawed by the august assembly and too much upset to take a firm stand such as might ordinarily have been expected of him. would perhaps not be surprising if he were. For the first time face to face with the leading princes of the empire and the greatest sovereign of the world, almost any man might be pardoned if he were dazzled by the spectacle and disconcerted by the hostility shown in the abrupt demand for a retraction. But the evidence is insufficient to support the conclusion. No one else, so far as we are aware, shared Fürstenberg's opinion that Luther was frightened, though many who have left reports of the occasion had a much better opportunity than he to observe the monk's attitude.

We must not be misled by the dramatic contrasts of the scene-a poor monk of peasant birth standing alone against the world. If he had been standing alone, the emperor and diet would never have wasted their time with him. He was no mere individual, on trial for his life, but the champion of a great and growing party, of political, as well as religious, importance. Nor was he a simple-minded, inexperienced monk, thrust suddenly into the lime-light

of publicity, but a seasoned warrior, long aware of the national significance of the battle he was engaged in. At Worms he had a host of influential supporters, and was surrounded by sage counselors. It is impossible to suppose he entered the hall ignorant of what he had to expect and without a carefully arranged plan of procedure. Apparently the plan did not altogether please Luther himself, for he later complained that under the influence of his friends he was milder at Worms than he would have liked to be. Doubtless his supporters were greatly divided as to the best way to meet the situation, and many of them must have hoped some compromise could be reached whereby the crushing of the whole movement might be prevented. Very likely he was induced to ask for delay until there was time for further discussion, in the light of the impression made by his first appearance. During the following night we are told he was in constant consultation with his friends, so that he got no sleep at all. And when he appeared before the diet the next day, firm as his final answer was, it was phrased very carefully, and in such a way as to give as little offense as possible.

Speaking in a louder voice than at his first appearance, so as to be heard by everybody in the hall, he apologized for any lack of respect he might have shown the members of the diet the previous day, through ignorance of the forms and customs of the great world, and then gave his answer to the crucial question at con