Spalatin nodded: "Yes, Brother Martin, I too rejoice in the advancement of the good cause. The Elector returned with renewed hopefulness from Nuremberg, which has doubtless contributed to the improvement in his health." "I have taken a hearty draught in honor of the Turk," said the chaplain Rorer, "but far greater honor is due to the man, whose wisdom brought about the peace between the Emperor and the Union of Smalcald;--the man who so clearly distinguishes between what is God's and what is Cæsar's; better than Zwingli, whose mingling of spiritual with temporal things has caused his destruction." Luther, towards whom, at these words, all eyes were turned, lifted his hand, and said earnestly: "Dear Rorer, you know that such praise pleases me little. What I am, I am by the grace of God,--to Him alone the honor is due." Spalatin, in the meantime, was whispering into Katharine's ear: "His grace, the Elector, sends your husband through me a gift of a hundred gold florins. Small as it is, in comparison with the consolation he received from Dr. Luther during his recent illness, yet his heart urged him to show his gratitude, as far as he is able. I will not offer it to the Doctor, knowing that he will refuse the gift, which I pray you, dear Mistress Luther, to accept; for I know that you have need of it, and the Elector will be much pleased." Katharine whispered her thanks and said: "It is impossible to change the Doctor's mind in these matters. Only the day before yesterday, a young man who had finished his studies, and lacked the money for his homeward journey, came to us for help. My husband reached into his pocket, and finding it empty, he took a silver cup from the shelf and offered it to his student, who refused to accept it. I made signs to the Doctor with my eyes; but as though he neither saw nor heard, he crushed the cup in his strong hand, and forced it upon the young man, saying: "I have no need of silver cups. Take it to the silversmith, and whatever he gives you, is yours." Spalatin's eyes glistened, as he glanced toward Dr. Martin, and with admiring veneration, he said softly: "That is Luther!" Presently, Katharine rose, and brought in the fish. When in passing it around, she came to her husband, he tapped her on the shoulder. "Kate, I think you have more pleasure from your small fish-pond, than many a nobleman from his large ones, whence he can draw hundreds of fish. Ah, many an one lives in plenty, and yet cannot enjoy God's gifts with profit and pleasure." Melanchthon, as was his habit, had sat in silent meditation. Suddenly he looked up, and turning to Luther, said: "I marvel, what our enemies would say if they saw us sitting thus pleasantly together?"