After a few days he felt so refreshed, that he was able to set out upon the journey to Merseburg, in the carriage sent him by prince George. On the ad of August, he accompanied the princely ecclesiastic to Halle, where the latter was to receive the rite of ordination at his hands. He preached in the Cathedral to vast crowds of people, and then proceeded to Leipsic, where men were longing to hear the words of truth from his lips. When he returned to Zulsdorf, he found his wife in tears. Again, her forebodings had been verified. "Ah, dearest Doctor," she cried, "our joy is at an end. Here is a letter from the Elector,--it came yesterday." Luther read the Elector's words of dismay and sorrow at his determination. The sovereign gave his solemn promise, if Luther consented to remain at Wittenberg, to use his influence in removing the causes of his complaints, whose justice he admitted. He most urgently entreated him to desist from his purpose, which would have further disastrous consequences; Melanchthon having declared that he would not remain in Wittenberg, without his friend Martin. Luther had scarcely finished, when a stir was heard without. As he opened the door, Melanchthon and the burgomaster of Wittenberg, Ambrose Reuter entered. They added their pleadings to those of the Elector, and were, if possible, even more pressing. Luther could not resist. "As God pleases," he said resignedly, with a glance toward his wife, who stood by the window, scarcely able to restrain her tears. It was like a triumphal procession, when on the 16th of August, Luther, with his wife and eldest son, seated in the carriage sent him by the Senate of Wittenberg, entered the Elstergate. The better elements welcomed the beloved teacher with jubilant delight; many of the erring ones repented, and those that remained incorrigible, were summarily dealt with by the University and the municipal authorities. With inward satisfaction, Luther saw this return to better things, a result to which he gladly sacrificed the coveted rest; as, all his life long, it had been the rule of his thinking and acting, to forget himself, for the welfare of others. CHAPTER XXIV. PARTING. The storm raged furiously, dashing heavy masses of snow against the windows. The rooks hid in the crevices of the masonry, scarcely venturing forth in search of their daily bread. Men whose business forced them to go abroad, wrapped themselves in their warm cloaks, which failed to defend them against the piercing cold. Mistress Katharine sat at home, with Margaret, her youngest child. Her face was pale and care-worn, and told of many sleepless nights. Anxiety for her husband lay like a stone upon her heart; for again he had been obliged to leave his home,--the man, now old, feeble, and broken in health, for whom there was to be no rest upon earth.