The letter was of enough import to make me exceeding thoughtful. Heart and soul, hand and fortune, I was enlisted in Luther’s cause. My letters in his behalf to Rome had been to the very limit of vehemence. If thus far I had done little for him in Germany, it was because in Germany he had seemed right able to take care of himself. But now that the Vatican was preparing its ultimatum I began to consider whether my sole duty was to await passively in the Regenstein what might befall the man whom I called more than ever brother, and also prophet. For better than most mortals I knew the difficulty Leo de’ Medici labored under at Rome in apprehending the true state of Germany,--how a stroke at Luther might not mean the crushing of a heretic, but the enkindling of a nation--the precipitation of religious war, beside which the memory of the old Hussite wars would fade as empty dreams. Could I get the ear of Leo for this? Could I persuade him not to believe Eck: not to put the worst possible inference upon Luther’s words which might be explained as ill-considered or rash? In short, could I for once teach the Monsignori of the Vatican that they had blundered, and must hold out the olive branch with what grace they might? None realized the odds against me more clearly than myself. The chances were all failure. The man who went to Rome to plead the cause of the heretic might forfeit all past favor: might possibly take the heretic’s place himself. But I was not living unto myself now,--please God I would not die unto myself. I made my resolve. In March I wrote to Luther announcing my intention of visiting Rome, travelling rapidly, and returning to the North as soon as possible. The two years of my exile from Rome had long expired; I was informed His Holiness expressed surprise at my failure to return; I believed I could get at least one fair audience touching the cause I had so at heart, and if blessings should light on the peacemakers, blessings then should be mine. I received a characteristic reply from Wittenberg; words I later learned Luther used in another letter to Dr. Spalatin, Elector Frederick’s confessor. After thanking me heartily, he expressed no confidence in the success of my mission. He expected only anathemas and wars. “But I commit everything to God, and give up my bark to the winds and the waves. The battle is the Lord’s. For do you think by _peace_ Christ will advance His cause? I fear not. Has not He himself--have not all the martyrs--poured out their blood in the combat?” Then at the end he told how he would pray for me night and morning, as I fared on the long, long way. The day after this letter came I called in Andrea, very suddenly. “Andrea, make ready quickly. A long journey.” “Eccellenza goes again to Wittenberg?” “To Rome.” The fellow almost swooned with joy. Then clapped his hands, sung, danced. “Italy, Italy. Returning to the sunlight! Santa Maria, what a blessed day!”