The young soldier caught that eye as it raised itself upon him, and his strong heart was touched by its melting tenderness and gratitude. Luther's friends breathed at ease. But soon his nostrils became distended, and the lately pale face grew crimson, and the moistened eye was afresh dry and rigid.

Better still was this for the young man's martial spirit, and his hand unconsciously grasped his swordbelt.

Melancthon shuddered. The Vicar-General sighed. Cruciger remained thoughtful, but unmoved.

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My son," said Martin Luther, in a tone that was most kind, most grateful, yet withal firm and bold"My son," and he laid his hand upon the young man's head, "the blessing of a poor monk will never harm thee either in the lady's bower or in the battle-field. Almighty God's blessing-not mine. merely-be on thy head, and on that of thy brave father!"

The young knight had already bent to receive the benediction, and Staupitz, Melancthon, and Cruciger, had risen from their seats, and joined their palms in prayer.

Luther continued: "May the great God of righteousness and truth bless the lad!' May He bless him in his future hearthstone, and place around it a woman worthy of his love and children fit and able to emulate those graces which we beg thee, Father in heaven, to shed down upon him. Bless him at his table-board, and may his offspring, like olive branches,

engirdle it! Bless him in the battle-field, and may his lances never flash but in thine holy light, and ever in the cause of truth, and liberty, and Christ!”*

"What can all this mean?" thought the anxious Melancthon, as the prayer closed, and as, without aught of formal courtesy (for this the solemnity of the moment forbade), all silently seated themselves, and Martin Luther, covering his face with his hands, remained, for many a minute, in the deepest silence.

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Brethren," he said, at length, very solemnly, "let me bespeak your love and gratitude for this good young soldier. May he be ever-as he has begun to be -Christ's soldier! He hath borne-and he hath borne willingly-this proffer of safety; and he, you see, pledges safe-conduct to Christ's poor confessor. Shall I accept it? Yet, if I do not, still what owe we not to the far-famed Von Schaumbourg and to his son! Mayest thou fight the good fight unto the end, noble youth!" he added.

Then Martin Luther handed to them the letter.

"The journey, reverend Father, will not be long. And I brought with me that same horse which my friend Count Rupert sent me, when he started for Rome, enjoining that no one should cross his back save yourself," said the youth, with a quiet modesty.

Luther's soul-masculine though it was in courage -was tender as a woman's, and this fresh mark of delicate affection from the young nobles of his father* Note 4.

land, touched most deeply the heart of the rude miner's

Yet, let it not be thought that he felt this because it came from men who, by birth, were noble; for, while holding-cherishing—every feeling of reverence for rank, as an institute of God, never breathed there a man less disposed, or less accustomed, to accept rank as the substitute of virtue; never breathed there a man more bold in the defiance of authority, when that authority had become corrupt, or more selfdenying in his withholdings from availing himself of their patronage or protection when the sources were polluted.

The Vicar-General, Staupitz, broke the silence that had, a second time, ensued.

"Art thou, my son Martin, in great danger, here in Saxony?"

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'Only in this danger,” replied Melancthon, suddenly, and with emphasis: "that Serra Longa, whom your Reverence knows to be the great advocate at Augsburg for the Papal Court, hath just written to our great Elector- Would that Luther found no asylum in the States of your Highness! Would that, as a universal exile, he were stoned before the face of Heaven! That would give me far more pleasure than if your Highness sent me ten thousand crowns.'

"But that does not compromise the security of my dear son Martin," answered Staupitz, calmly. "The

*Note 5.

Elector remains his friend; and what to him, or to both, are the wishes of such a madman?"

"But still more than that which Melancthon says, let me submit to your Reverence," interposed Cruciger. "His Highness, our good Frederick, has just received the most urgent demands from Rome, and they are all directed against our Father Martin. Von Teutleben, the ambassador, hath remitted to his master the Pope's demands, that Father Martin should be banished from our Saxony."

Staupitz mused and was pondering on a reply. But he was ever so calm and so deliberative, that Luther's vehemence, constrained though it now was and had been during the conference, at last burst out.

"Thanks-thanks many, dearest friends! Thanks, my Lord-General-my friend-my more than father!" he continued, reverentially addressing his old superior and ever fast friend. “I have but this day received from Steinmetz, the secretary of his Highness, the despatch which his Highness hath returned to the Pope.

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Rupert told me of it," interposed the young Graf incautiously. "His brother Arensberg is the bearer."

The moment he said this he felt that he had very seriously committed himself, and he blushed, conscious of his error.

Martin Luther smiled, whilst those around him were surprised and distressed.

"My young friend," said Luther kindly, "hath but been presuming that that is true which he and his

friend, Count Rupert, wish to be true.

Blessings

afresh be on thee, dear young lord, for thine eagerness in our fate!"

How very gentle, and how proof-like it was of the Reformer's wise study of human character, and of the consummate prudence wherewith he conciliated and managed all the human forces that came within his range.

The young officer felt very grateful.

Luther proceeded,

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"We all know so well the prudence of our great Elector, and we all know so well the obedience of Count Arensberg, that we may be sure the purpose of his mission to his Holiness must be hitherto unknown. Yet, our gracious Sovereign hath suffered me to learn that he hath played off the Pope in his own coin; that he hath met subtlety with caution; that he hath said, that far from protecting Luther, he hath always left him to protect himself; that he already had commanded Luther to leave Wittemberg, yea, even Saxony; that Doctor Martin would not now have been in the States of his Highness, but from the entreaty of the Pope's own Legate, Charles de Miltitz.

"So, brethren beloved-beloved more for your wisdom in righteousness than for your friendship for Father Martin-fear not. Clouds and darkness' may be around both me and you, yet shall we distrust Him who once led his people through the cloud and the sea?

"Dear young lord," he continued, addressing the