"Then he would have us all live in palaces," remarked Miles. "But I do not see how that is to make us better Grecians," he added.
"Oh, just hear what he says we are constantly trying to do at the present time," said his friend, turning the pages of his book, "'The rich are ever striving to pare away something further from the daily wages of the poor by private fraud, and even by public law, so that the wrong already existing (for it is a wrong that those from whom the State derives most benefit should receive least reward) is made yet greater by the law of the State. The rich devise every means by which they may, in the first place, secure to themselves what they have amassed by wrong, and then take to their own use and profit, at the lowest possible price, the work and labour of the poor, and so soon as the rich decide on adopting these devices in the name of the public they then become law.'"
"I don't know whether it is as bad as that," said Miles, thoughtfully, "but what does he propose should be the remedy for this state of things?" he asked, eagerly.
"Listen—'In "Nowhere" the aim of legislation is to secure the welfare, social, industrial, intellectual, religious, of the community at large, and of the labour class, as the true basis of a well-ordered Commonwealth. The aim of its labour laws was the benefit of the labourer.'"
"Then in 'Nowhere' all men must be true Grecians," said Miles, after a pause, "for if they were not they would not pass such laws, and they would not be fit to live in its palaces. I wonder whether the new learning will ever change our Merry England into such a kingdom as this Utopia."
"Ah! I wonder," said his friend, and then the two young men began talking of other matters, but he left his "Utopia" for Miles to read. And Miles sat up until far into the night devouring this most fascinating book, that gathered into itself all the hopes and dreams of such men as Colet, Erasmus, More, Warham, and others like-minded with them, and which he now fondly hoped he should see become a reality.
[CHAPTER VI.]
A CHANGE FOR MILES.
MILES PATON found that life at the university with very little money in his pocket was a hard one. In spite of what had been told him, that the translation of the Bible into English would be a breach of the law of the Church, he resolved to do what he could to give to others the light he had learned to prize so dearly. And so he set to work upon the translation of the Gospel of St. Matthew. Of this he managed to make several copies, and sold them to friends. The first completed copy he sent to his sister, and she did not forget to repay him handsomely for his gift. But for this, and the kindness of friends and fellow-students, he could not have remained at Oxford, but now he felt more unwilling than ever to leave what seemed to him now the very centre of the world. For news of what was going on in a distant German university town found its way here in the course of a few months, and the name of Luther—who was causing such a stir in the far away town of Wittenberg—was talked of here in Oxford almost as eagerly as though he belonged to the sister university of Cambridge.
But the news set men not merely talking, but strongly denouncing or warmly approving what was being said and done by this new teacher. Nothing less than vehement approval or strong denunciation could express what men felt upon this matter; for, in the pamphlets brought over and handed round from one friend to the other, Luther denounced, not merely the abuses of the Papacy, but the Papacy itself.