t was here,” Rudolf explained, when they had reached the entrance to the Knight’s House, “that the great Reformer was kept in captivity for a year.”

“Yes,” Katrina interposed, “mÜtterchen told me this, and so did the lady with the silver cross; but they didn’t tell me why he was made a prisoner.”

“That was because he opposed certain teachings of his time, and,” her father added, forcefully, “had the courage to be steadfast to what he believed to be the truth.” “It would be good, Herr Rudolf,” suggested Fritz, “if you would tell Katrina and me the story of Martin Luther before we go inside the castle. Then when we do go in, we’d understand and enjoy it all the more.”

“Yes, Fritz, thou art right; some knowledge of him would make thee have a more intelligent appreciation of what thou art about to see. So, suppose we sit out here while I tell thee both about a few of the incidents in Luther’s life.”

Whereupon, Rudolf and the two children seated themselves on a stone bench close by the door of entrance. Now just above this same door was a device cut in stone, that was not only quaint and curious, but was also strangely suggestive of the giant power of the man who had once been a prisoner there. It represented Samson in the act of quelling the lion. And had not he, Martin Luther, slain mankind’s deadly foe,—blind superstition?

“Well, to begin with,” said Rudolf, when the children had settled themselves to listen, and sat watching him with expectant eyes, “Martin Luther’s father, whose name was Hans Luther, was a miner at MÖra, a small town which now belongs to the Duchy of Saxe-Meiningen. Not very long after his marriage, however, Hans and his wife, Margaret, went to live at Eisleben, and it was here, on the 10th of November, 1483, that a son was born to them. This day being the anniversary of Martin, Bishop of Tours, they gave the name ‘Martin’ to their boy in memory of the saint.

“It was soon after this that Luther’s parents removed to Mansfield, and Hans, the father, became a member of the council. Their great desire was that Martin should follow one of the learned professions, and from the first his education was very strict. He attended the school of the Franciscan monks at Magdeburg; but when about fifteen years old, he came to Eisenach and earned money as a Current-Schuler by singing from door to door.”

“Yes, yes, dear father,” Katrina interrupted, “we know how the good Frau Cotta, hearing him sing in the streets, took him in and gave him a home.”

“Did he like being a Current-Schuler?” asked Fritz, to whose spirit of adventure the idea made a strong appeal.

“It is said,” responded Rudolf, “that the practice of singing for charity was at first very distasteful to him, but that in time he came to like it, so great was his love for music. Thou, my little Katrina, art familiar with some of Martin Luther’s hymns. He wrote a number of hymns after he grew to manhood; and thou, Fritz, hast sung with us many an evening that grand old anthem of his, ‘Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott.’”[2]

“I wonder, Herr Rudolf,” Fritz exclaimed, as the light of the sudden thought flashed into his face, “I wonder if Luther wrote that hymn here at the Wartburg! Don’t you think he must have done so?”

For a moment Rudolf was silent. This was a question which had not presented itself to his mind before.

“I really do not know it to be a certainty,” he answered after thinking deeply; “but it does seem to me, Fritz, that he must have had his inspiration here within these walls which sheltered him in a time when his life was being threatened. But now,” Rudolf continued, “let us turn back to the youthful Luther and follow him as he progresses in his school life. In the year 1501 he entered the University of Erfurt, where he studied Logic, Physics, and Ethics; but it was in Philosophy and the ancient classics that he afterward found his greatest satisfaction. In the year 1503 Luther received his degree of B. A., and it was then that he complied with his father’s wish and began to study the law. This, however, as he soon found, was not to his taste, and in time it became a burden to him. In these days of doubt he felt strongly drawn toward a monastic life, and finally, in spite of the opposition of his family and friends, he determined to take the vows and become a monk.

“But even after this step had been taken, he found that his conscience was not wholly at ease. His zealous mind seemed to be ever searching for the truth. And, my children,” Rudolf continued, “it was in the year 1517 that Martin Luther first wrote his name indelibly on the pages of history.”