A
hypocrite, who does not drink wine and crosses himself at the sight
of a pheasant!"
"There was an ill-omened look about the man."
"He looked something like the Trojan horse, and Beelzebub only knows
what he has in his belly."
* * * * *
When Luther came into his lonely cell, he wept with a young man's
boundless grief when reality contradicts his expectations, and he
finds that all which he has learnt to prize is only contemptible and
common.
He was not, however, allowed to be alone long, for there was a knock
at the door, and there entered a young Augustinian monk, who seemed,
with a confidential air, to invite his acquaintance.
"Brother Martin, you must not be solitary, but open your heart to
sympathetic friends."
He took Martin's hands. "Tell me," he said, "what troubles you, and
I will answer you."
Luther looked at the young monk, and saw that he was a swarthy
Italian with glowing eyes. But he had been so long alone that he
felt the necessity of speech.
"What do you think," he said, "our Lord Christ would say if he now
arose and came into the Holy City?"
"He would rejoice that His churches, His three hundred and
sixty-five churches, are built on the foundations of the heathen
temples. You know that since Charles the Great dragged the great
marble pillars to Aachen in order to build his cathedral, our Popes
have also gone to work, and the heathen and their houses have been
literally laid at the feet of Christ.
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