“Kindly? even so, as I have experienced, but his kindness is for his associates,--artists, poets, boon companions. Consider what manner of man he really is,--his experience in your manner of holiness. Tonsured when a boy of seven, too young to conceive the meaning of his sacred vows; ever immersed in worldly affairs; more concerned with French alliances than with the betterment of the Church; continually in debt, so that 500,000 ducats per year still leave him crying ‘poverty.’ Around him is a swarm of ever hungry and begging bishops and cardinals. He is full of expensive schemes, from building St Peter’s church to conquering the Duchy of Urbino. And you--reverend Doctor, will be chargeable with one great crime; namely, you have lessened His Holiness’s revenues. Deny the Blessed Trinity if you will; blaspheme the Holy Mother; call St. Paul a pagan and St. Peter a Mohammedan. All these you may do, and in the end find your lot a milder one. His Holiness will probably never pass upon your appeals. You will never find the money to bribe your way to an interview with even a powerful cardinal. The Vatican will speak once. You will be crushed.” “Do not exaggerate,” interposed the friar, I thought somewhat quailing at my onset. “Never will I believe the Pope is what you say. Yet even then my blast will be a mere puff on a horse-trough. Tetzel will fume a little, perhaps a few of his betters will gnaw their lips. That will be all. If I diminish his bad gains but fifty gulden, I am satisfied.” “You forget, Magister Doctor,” I rejoined, “that behind Tetzel is his whole powerful Dominican order, who will fly as one wolf-pack against the defamer of their fellow. The Dominicans are all-potent at Rome. They never forgive an enemy.” “And they call themselves _Christian_ friars,” he repeated bitterly, standing by the table. “They will malign your motive, imputing it to jealousy that your own order was not given the indulgence hawking.” “Men like Tetzel will do anything,” he assented gloomily. “Then, my dear Doctor Luther,” I cried, resolving to strike while the iron seemed hot, “I have convinced you. The theses are unwise. Leave Tetzel to his sins. They will punish him. See--I will burn the papers in the candle.” As I held out my hand, the packet was seized from it by force irresistible. Over me stood the friar, all transfigured by his passion. “No!--while God rules in heaven! Let my right hand forget her cunning, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, let my poor body crumble to ashes in the flame,--but I will do that to which my Master summons me. When I set pen to paper I had not dreamed of all this you tell. But shall I be bold in the morning, and craven at nightfall? Not so. This is God’s battle. And if He must be crucified afresh, thrice blessed am I if counted worthy to suffer with Him! Some trust in chariots, and some in horses, but I will remember the name of the Lord, our God!”