But if the Abbot knew how to exact compliance, he knew also how to reward.  He gave Ellenbog every assistance in his studies, allowed him to write hither and thither for books, made continual efforts to procure him first a Hebrew and then a Greek Bible, wrote to Reuchlin to find him a converted Jew as Hebrew teacher, and in 1516 built him a new library; for which Ellenbog writes to a friend asking for verses to put under the paintings of the Doctors of the Church, which are to adorn the walls.  As results of his studies we hear of him correcting the abbey service-books, where for stauros, a scribe with no Greek had written scayros, and explaining to the Abbot mistaken interpretations in the passages read aloud in the refectory during meals.  One of these, in a book written by some one who had recently been canonized—­some mediaeval doctor—­illustrates the learning of the day; deriving [Greek:  gastrimargia], gluttony, from castrum and mergo, ‘quod gula mergat castrum mentis,’ because gluttony drowns the seat of reason.

Of Ellenbog’s official duties occasional mention is made in his letters.  As Steward he has to visit the tenants of the monastery; in the autumn he journeys about the country buying wine.  We hear of him at Westerhaim, on the river Iller, settling a dispute among the fishermen.  On one of his journeys to fetch wine from Constance, at the hospice there he fell in with a man who could fire balls out of a machine by means of nitre, and who boasted that he could demolish with this weapon a certain castle in the neighbourhood.  Over supper they began to argue, the artillerist maintaining that nitre was cold, and that the explosion which discharged the balls was caused by the contrariety between nitre and sulphur; Ellenbog contending that nitre was hot, and supporting this view by scraps remembered from his father’s scientific conversation.

The general life of the Abbey is also reflected.  Ottobeuren lay on one of the routes to Italy, and so they had plenty of visitors bringing news from regions far off:  a Carthusian, who had been in Ireland and seen St. Patrick’s cave; a party of Hungarian acrobats with dancing bears; a young Cretan, John Bondius, who had seen the labyrinth of Minos, but all walled up to prevent men from straying into it and being lost.  A great impression he made, when he dined with the Abbot; he was so learned and polished, and spoke Latin so well for a Greek.  In 1514 Pellican, the Franciscan Visitor, passed on his way south, and had a talk with Ellenbog, which was all too short, about Hebrew learning.  Next year came Eck, the theologian, the future champion of orthodoxy, returning from Rome.  Eck’s mother and sisters were living under the protection of the abbey—­it is not clear whether they were merely tenants, or whether they were occupying lay quarters within its walls, as did Fernand’s at St. Germain’s in Paris.  At any rate, Eck came and made himself agreeable.  He preached twice before the brethren; and when he left, he promised to send them the latest news from America.  In 1511 a copy of Vespucci’s narrative of his voyage had been lent to the monastery, and had been read with great interest.