Miltitz had orders, in the first instance, to employ the arms of persuasion; and it was only in the event of failure that he was to produce his seventy briefs, and at the same time endeavour, by all the favours of Rome, to induce the Elector to put down Luther. He accordingly expressed a desire to have an interview with the Reformer. Their common friend, Spalatin, offered his house for this purpose, and Luther left Wittemberg on the 2nd or 3rd of January to repair to Altenburg.
At this interview Miltitz exhausted all the address of a diplomatist and a Roman courtier. The moment Luther arrived the nuncio approached him with great demonstrations of friendship. "O," thought Luther, "how completely his violence is turned into gentleness! This new Saul came into Germany provided with more than seventy apostolic briefs to carry me alive and in chains to murderous Rome, but the Lord has cast him down on the way."13
"Dear Martin," said the pope's chamberlain to him in a coaxing tone, "I thought you were an old theologian sitting quietly behind your stove, and stuffed with theological crotchets; but I see that you are still young, and in the full vigour of life.14 Do you know," continued he in a more serious tone, "that you have stirred up the whole world against the pope and attached it to yourself?"15 Miltitz was aware that to flatter men's pride is the most effectual mode of seducing them; but he knew not the man with whom he had to do. "Had I an army of twenty-five thousand men," added he, "assuredly I would not undertake to seize you and carry you off to Rome."16 Rome, notwithstanding of her power, felt herself feeble in presence of a poor monk, and the monk felt strong in presence of Rome. "God," said Luther, "arrests the billows of the ocean at the shore, and arrests them ... by the sand."17
The nuncio, thinking he had thus prepared the mind of his opponent, continued as follows: "Do you yourself bind up the wound which you have inflicted on the Church, and which you alone can cure." "Beware," added he, letting a few tears fall, "beware of raising a tempest, which would bring ruin on Christendom."18 He then began gradually to insinuate that a recantation was the only remedy for the evil; but he at the same time softened the offensiveness of the term by giving Luther to understand that he had the highest esteem for him, and by expressing his indignation at Tezel. The net was laid by a skilful hand, and how was it possible to avoid being taken in it? "Had the Archbishop of Mentz spoken thus to me at the outset," said the Reformer afterwards, "this affair would not have made so much noise."19
Luther then replied. With calmness, but also with dignity and force, he stated the just grievances of the Church; expressed all the indignation he felt at the Archbishop of Mentz, and nobly complained of the unworthy treatment he had received from Rome, notwithstanding of the purity of his intentions. Miltitz, though he had not expected this firm language, was able, however, to conceal his wrath.
Luther resumed, "I offer to be silent in future as to these matters, and let the affair die out of itself,20 provided my opponents also are silent; but if they continue to attack me, a petty quarrel will soon beget a serious combat. My armour is quite ready. I will do still more," added he, after a momentary pause, "I will write his Holiness, acknowledging that I have been somewhat too violent, and declaring that it was as a faithful child of the Church I combated harangues which subjected her to mockery and insult from the people. I even consent to publish a document in which I will request all who read my books not to see any thing in them adverse to the Roman Church, but to remain subject to her. Yes: I am disposed to do every thing and bear every thing; but as to retractation never expect it from me."
Luther's decided tone convinced Miltitz that the wisest course was to appear satisfied with the promise which the Reformer had just made, and he merely proposed that an archbishop should be appointed arbiter to decide certain points which might come under discussion. "Be it so," said Luther, "but I am much afraid that the pope will not consent to have a judge. In that case no more will I accept the judgment of the pope, and then the strife will begin anew. The pope will give out the text, and I will make the commentary."
Thus terminated the first interview between Luther and Miltitz. They had a second, in which the truce, or rather peace, was signed. Luther immediately informed the Elector of what had passed. "Most serene prince and very gracious lord," wrote he, "I hasten very humbly to inform your Electoral Highness, that Charles de Miltitz and I have at length agreed, and have terminated the affair by means of the two following articles:—
"1st, Both parties are forbidden to preach or write, or to do any thing further in reference to the dispute which has arisen.
"2ndly, Miltitz will immediately acquaint the holy father with the state of matters. His holiness will order an enlightened bishop to enquire into the affair, and specify the erroneous articles which I am required to retract. If I am found to be in error, I will retract willingly, and never more do any thing that may be prejudicial to the honour or the authority of the holy Roman Church."21
The agreement being thus made, Miltitz appeared quite delighted. "For a hundred years," exclaimed he, "no affair has given the cardinals and Roman courtiers more anxiety than this. They would have given ten thousand ducats sooner than consent to its longer continuance."22
The chamberlain of the pope made a great show of feeling before the monk of Wittemberg. Sometimes he expressed joy, at other times shed tears. This display of sensibility made little impression on the Reformer, but he refrained from showing what he thought of it. "I looked as if I did not understand what was meant by these crocodile tears,"23 said he. The crocodile is said to weep when it cannot seize its prey.
Luther having accepted an invitation to supper from Miltitz, the host laid aside the stiffness attributed to his office, while Luther gave full scope to his natural gaiety. It was a joyous repast,24 and when the parting hour arrived, the legate took the heretical doctor in his arms and kissed him.25 "A Judas kiss," thought Luther, "I pretended," wrote he to Staupitz, "not to comprehend all these Italian manners."26
Was this then to be in truth the kiss of reconciliation between Rome and the dawning Reformation? Miltitz hoped so, and rejoiced at it, for he had a nearer view than the courtiers of Rome of the fearful results which the Reformation might produce in regard to the papacy. If Luther and his opponents are silent, said he to himself, the dispute will be ended, and Rome by availing herself of favourable circumstances will regain all her ancient influence. It thus seemed that the debate was drawing to a close: Rome had stretched out her arms and Luther had apparently thrown himself into them; but the Reformation was the work not of man but of God. The error of Rome consisted in seeing the quarrel of a monk where she ought to have seen an awakening of the Church. The revival of Christendom was not to be arrested by the kisses of a pope's chamberlain.
Miltitz, in fulfilment of the agreement which he had just concluded, proceeded from Altenburg to Leipsic, where Tezel was residing. There was no occasion to shut Tezel's mouth, for, sooner than speak, he would, if it had been possible, have hidden himself in the bowels of the earth; but the nuncio was determined to discharge his wrath upon him. Immediately on his arrival at Leipsic Miltitz summoned the unhappy Tezel before him, loaded him with reproaches, accused him of being the author of the whole mischief, and threatened him with the pope's displeasure.27 Nor was this all: the agent of the house of Fugger, who was then at Leipsic, was confronted with him. Miltitz laid before the Dominican the accounts of that house, together with papers which he himself had signed, and proved that he had squandered or stolen considerable sums. The poor wretch, who had stickled at nothing in his day of glory, was overwhelmed by the justice of these accusations: despair seized him, his health gave way, and he knew not where to hide his shame. Luther heard of the miserable condition of his old enemy, and was the only person who felt for him. In a letter to Spalatin he says, "I pity Tezel."28 Nor did he confine himself to such expressions. He had hated not the man but his misconduct, and, at the moment when Rome was pouring out her wrath upon him, wrote him in the most consolatory terms. But all was to no purpose. Tezel, stung by remorse, alarmed at the reproaches of his best friends, and dreading the anger of the pope, not long after died miserably, and as was supposed of a broken heart.29
Luther,