"Perhaps not: I was, however, given to understand that my presence
would be agreeable; but as that does not seem to be the case, I
will leave."
"Since you are come, I am very glad to see you."
"I am very glad to hear it," said I, reseating myself; "and since I
am here, we may as well talk of an all-important matter, the
circulation of the Scripture. Does your lordship see any way by
which an end so desirable might be brought about?"
"No," said the Archbishop faintly.
"Does not your lordship think that a knowledge of the Scripture
would work inestimable benefit in these realms?"
"I don't know."
"Is it probable that the government may be induced to consent to
the circulation?"
"How should I know?" and the Archbishop looked me in the face.
I looked in the face of the Archbishop; there was an expression of
helplessness in it, which almost amounted to dotage. "Dear me,"
thought I, "whom have I come to on an errand like mine? Poor man,
you are not fitted to play the part of Martin Luther, and least of
all in Spain. I wonder why your friends selected you to be
Archbishop of Toledo; they thought perhaps that you would do
neither good nor harm, and made choice of you, as they sometimes do
primates in my own country, for your incapacity.
