When he appeared at the
University he came as one from the dead. The event was too serious for
student jollification; many were struck dumb with astonishment and glad
tears of joy were upon every cheek--and by common consent all classes
were abandoned, and a solemn service of thanksgiving held in the church,
upon the door of which, four years before, this little college professor
had tacked his Theses.

All understood now that Luther was a prisoner--he must go back to his
prison. He admonished his hearers to be patient, but to be firm; cleave
to what they believed to be right, even though it led to the scaffold.
He administered the sacrament, and through that congregation, and
throughout Saxony, and throughout all Germany ran the vow, silent,
solemn and serious, that Martin Luther's defiance of Papal authority was
right. The Church was made for man and not man for the Church--and come
what may, this man Luther must be protected even though the gutters ran
with blood.

When would his trial occur? Nobody knew--but there would be no haste.

Luther went back to prison, but not to remain there. His little lease of
liberty had been given just to see which way the wind lay. He was a
prisoner still--a prisoner on parole--and if he was taken out of Saxony
it could only be by illegal means.

The action of the Elector was as wise and as successful a bit of legal
procedure as ever mortal lawyer worked: that it was all done without the
advice, consent or connivance of the prisoner makes it doubly admirable.

Luther set himself to work as never before, writing and preaching. He
kept close to Wittenberg and from there sent forth his thunders of
revolt. Outside of Saxony, at regular intervals, edicts were read from
pulpits ordering any and all copies of Luther's writings to be brought
forward that they might be burned. This advertised the work, and made it
prized--it was read throughout all Christendom.

That gentle and ascetic Henry the Eighth of England issued a book
denouncing Luther and telling what he would do with him if he came to
England. Luther replied, a trifle too much in kind. Henry put in a pious
rejoinder to the effect that the Devil would not have Luther in hell. In
their opinion of Luther the Pope and King Henry were of one mind.

So lived Martin Luther, execrated and beloved. At first he sought to
serve the Church, and later he worked to destroy it. After three hundred
years, the Catholic Church still lives, wit