_are summoned about nine o’clock to the Church of the Holy Cross beyond the city wall_. At that place, according to ancient apostolic usage, the godless books of the Papal constitutions and the Scholastic Theology will be burned; inasmuch as the presumption of the enemies of the Gospel has gone so far that they have cast the godly, evangelical books of Luther into the fire. Let all earnest students attend this sight, for now is the time when Anti-Christ must stand revealed. The air of the small city seemed charged as before a thunderstorm. Men stood in little knots upon the street talking in low whispers. Now at last the dullest and feeblest who had said “peace, peace,” knew that peace was not to be, that Christendom was to be rent into two hostile camps, a schism that might endure far beyond children’s children. Freiherr von Steinitz greeted me with his usual cordiality at his stately home, but he and his good lady were alike touched by the common sentiment. We sat silent and pensive by his well-piled table. At last he gave a forced laugh. “Do you remember that evening of your first coming more than three years ago, and how I asked who would bell the cat, meaning Tetzel?” “Certainly.” “Saints and angels! Who would have imagined that after belling the cat, it must needs prove necessary to bell Leo, the lion! God grant we do not all make the beast a fine meal ere it is over; but it is Heaven’s way, not ours. Luther is a prophet of God, if ever Moses or Elijah were such. Live or die, we are with him.” And I think Von Steinitz spoke the mind of all Wittenberg that night. At the Augustinian convent later I found Luther and Melanchthon with a few friends. Their tongues were going briskly. Dr. Martin even ventured the catch of a song. “I was certain of your coming, Walter,” was his greeting when I entered. “The devil will try very hard to-morrow to make us sad and down-hearted. So we will prove our trust in God by abundance of good talk and music, for I am sure the angels are better pleased by seeing men happy, than by fasting or lying all night in the shape of a cross.” I sat down with the company. My gloomy mood fled. I told of my adventures and successes in Mechlenburg and Prussia. Melanchthon was charming, with his classic wit and apt quotations; even the serious Amsdorf was merry. “What a pleasant evening was this,” said Dr. Martin when I left him. “Why cannot the fine cardinals at Rome and the Dominicans leave a poor rascal like myself alone; then I could always sit with Philip by the stove, with a little beer and the good word going? But we must have very hard and strait words to-morrow.” * * * * *