m a silver tankard of
Eimbeck beer, after having first drunk of it himself.

On reaching his lodging, "Luther," to use the words of a Nuremberger
present there, "stretched out his hands, and with a joyful countenance
exclaimed, 'I am through! I am through!'" Spalatin says: "He entered the
lodging so courageous, comforted, and joyful in the Lord that he said
before others and myself, 'if he had a thousand heads, he would rather
have them all cut off than make one recantation.'" He relates also how
the elector Frederick, before his supper, sent for him from Luther's
dwelling, took him into his room and expressed to him his astonishment
and delight at Luther's speech. "How excellently did Father Martin speak
both in Latin and German before the Emperor and the orders! He was bold
enough, if not too much so." The Emperor, on the contrary, had been so
little impressed by Luther's personality, and had understood so little
of it, that he fancied the writings ascribed to him must have been
written by someone else. Many of his Spaniards had pursued Luther, as he
left the diet, with hisses and shouts of scorn.

Luther, by refusing thus point-blank to retract, effectually destroyed
whatever hopes of mediation or reconciliation had been entertained by
the milder and more moderate adherents of the Church who still wished
for reform. Nor was any union possible with those who, while looking to
a truly representative council as the best safeguard against the tyranny
of a pope, were anxious also to obtain at such a council a secure and
final settlement of all questions of Christian faith and morals. It was
these very councils about which Eck purposely called on Luther for a
declaration; and Luther's words on this point might well have been
considered by the Elector as "too bold."

Luther remained faithful to himself. True it was that he had often
formerly spoken of yielding in mere externals, and of the duty of living
in love and harmony, and respecting the weaknesses of others; and his
conduct during the elaboration of his own church system will show us how
well he knew to accommodate himself to the time, and, where perfection
was impossible, to be content with what was imperfect. But the question
here was not about externals, or whether a given proceeding were
judicious or not for the attainment of an object admittedly good. It was
a question of confessing or denying the truth--the highest and holiest
truths, as he expressed it--rela