By way of introducing his subject, Kenneth Austin finds reason to comment on the lack of attention to Tremillius. This lack seems especially apparent with respect to biographical studies, of which there are—or rather, were—only two, both from the nineteenth century.

The author's notice in this regard is understandable, given that Tremillius's edition of the Old Testament established him as perhaps the foremost Hebraist of the sixteenth century, and that his Latin translation of the text was regarded for some time as the Protestant replacement for the Vulgate. Also clear is the reason for the paucity of biographical studies, however—that is, there just is not very much in the way of evidence for Tremillius's life.

Austin's revised dissertation acquaints readers with the outlines of his subject's life. An Italian Jew whose life circumstances and penchant for learning bring him into contact with Christian reformers in the humanist mold, Tremillius at some point converted. As his Italian mentors (in particular, Peter Martyr) began to leave Italy for the more reform-friendly areas in the north and west, Tremillius went along. Leading the life of an itinerant scholar, Tremillius's philological skills soon drew attention from John Calvin, among others. Despite the latter's best efforts, no position ever came available in Geneva; Tremillius's most stable and productive years were spent in Heidelberg (ca. 1561–1577). During that time, he produced the Old Testament text and translation mentioned above, and also a Syriac edition (with Latin translation) of the New Testament. In addition, the Heidelberg post provided a platform for wider activity, for example, as a kind of diplomat on behalf of the Huguenots in France. These facts, along with time spent at Cambridge (prior to his Heidelberg post) and involvement in a controversial publication of the Talmud (in the years between Heidelberg and Tremillius's death in France), suggest a fascinating tale.

Unfortunately, access to the details of the story is slight. Thus, in considering Tremillius's conversion, Austin has at hand two sources. These conflict with one another, and neither provides the sort of social or psychological insight necessary for a profound understanding of the subject. Austin handles the conflict well enough. He cannot overcome the shortcomings of his sources, however, and the reader cannot help noticing the extent to which Austin resorts to locutions of the “might have been,” or “may have” variety. Not that these surmisals are unreasonable—they simply remind one that serious biography is in some sense a luxury, dependent on the availability of useful sources.

In this sense, the more promising lines of inquiry with respect to Tremillius would seem to follow on Austin's comments regarding his subject's position as an Italian-Jewish-Protestant, as well as on the relation of Tremillius's work to various projects by which Christians in early modern Europe sought to promote Jewish conversion. These are very interesting topics, not least because of the fact Tremillius sometimes promoted his work as an apologia aimed at Jews.

Most of Austin's analysis of Tremillius's editions and translations of the Old and New Testaments, however, presents him as a model of the concerns humanists of his time shared—that is, to present as accurate a version of the original text as possible, with translations annotated so as to indicate alternate readings, potential vocabulary, and potential meanings, all in the service of Protestant reform. In this sense, Austin's closing sentences on Calvin's enthusiasm for Tremillius's work are instructive. Noting the importance for Protestants of “obtaining as accurate a text as possible,” and along with that, of the employment of philological skills in parsing the various meanings of the biblical text, Austin writes: