"I have," he said. "Several copies were sent by a Swiss printer,
Frobenius, to Castile. And I saw it before at Venice. It is prohibited
in both Castile and Venice now. But I have always wished to possess a
copy that I might judge for myself. Do you know Dr. Luther?" he asked,
as he moved away.
"I have known and reverenced him for many years," I said.
"They say his life is blameless, do they not?" he asked.
"Even his bitterest enemies confess it to be so," I replied.
"He spoke like a brave man before the Diet," he resumed; "gravely and
quietly, as true men speak who are prepared to abide by their words. A
noble of Castile could not have spoken with more dignity than that
peasant's son. The Italian priests thought otherwise; but the oratory
which melts girls into tears from pulpits is not the eloquence for the
councils of men. That monk had learned his oratory in a higher school.
If you ever see Dr. Luther again," he added, "tell him that some
Spaniards, even in the Emperor's court, wished him well."
And here in Paris I find a little band of devout and learned men,
Lefevre, Farel, and Briconnet, bishop of Meaux, actively employed in
translating and circulating the writings of Luther and Melancthon. The
truth in them, they say, they had learned before from the book of God
itself, namely, justification through faith in a crucified Saviour
leading to a life devoted to him. But jealous as the French are of
admitting the superiority of anything foreign, and contemptuously as
they look on us unpolished Germans, the French priests welcome Luther as
a teacher and a brother, and are as eager to hear all particulars of his
life as his countrymen in every town and quiet village throughout
Germany.
They tell me also that the king's own sister, the beautiful and learned
Duchess Margaret of Valois, reads Dr. Luther's writings, and values them
greatly.
Indeed, I sometimes think if he had carried out the intention he formed
some years since, of leaving Wittemberg for Paris, he would have found a
noble sphere of action here. The people are so frank in speech, so quick
in feeling and perception; and their bright keen wit cuts so much more
quickly to the heart of a fallacy than our sober, plodding, Northern
intellect.