“Here, my children,” said Rudolf, as he now led the way into a small room at the head of the stairway, “this was Luther’s sanctuary.”
A sort of awe fell upon Fritz and Katrina at the thought of being in the same apartment where that great, good man had spent the months of his captivity.
“This,” Rudolf explained, as he pointed toward a table, “is not the one at which Luther sat when he made his translation of the Bible; that was carried away years ago by relic hunters, who gradually cut it into chips. The one here now was once in his father’s house at Möra, and Luther sat at it when a little boy.”
Fritz and Katrina, full of interest, gazed up at the portraits of Luther and his parents hanging on the wall above the table, while Rudolf explained that they were the work of Cranach, one of the greatest painters of his time. He also called their attention to one of Luther’s letters which had been framed, and was hanging near the Cranach portraits. Then the children were told to look at a curious mining-lamp once used by Luther’s father. But it was when Rudolf showed them the money box carried about by the little Current-Schuler down in Eisenach that their enthusiasm seemed to have no bounds.
“Just let us touch it, father, dear!” Katrina cried.
And they both laid their hands lovingly on the treasured relic.
“Just think,” said Fritz, as he held it for a moment in his hand, “it was in this very box that he got the money for his schooling.”
“Now,” said Rudolf, as he moved over to a large chest underneath the window, “if you will both come close, I’ll open this and show you a collection of the first editions of the Bible according to the translation made by Luther. Here, my children,” and as he spoke, Rudolf put a volume into the hands of each, “hold this sacred book, and as you do so, realize that it is your privilege to have had within your clasp one of the greatest gifts ever bestowed upon mankind. For before Luther made his translation, which even the simplest peasant could read, as it was written in the language of the people, the Bible was as a locked treasure-house to which only the few had a key.”
“How thankful we should be to him!” Katrina said.
“Yes, my liebchen,” replied her father, tenderly, “only think what it means to be able to go each day to this sacred Book and learn from it the way of life.”