"Yes; I mean to use that and the Latin translation as well—not the Vulgate, of course, for that has corrupted the Water of Life by man's inventions and doctrines."
"God bless you! and further your task with His favour," exclaimed Miles, eagerly, grasping the hand of his new friend, and shaking it again most vigorously, as he awoke from the disappointment that had seized him when he first heard that there was no news from home for him; for this that the stranger told was better even than tidings of Margery and his mother.
They had been left to themselves in the summer parlour, and now they sat down and talked over the project that had brought Master Tyndale to London; and Miles learned that it was his own efforts at translating the Word of God that had given the definite direction to what had now become the purpose of his life.
"The Bishop of London, Dr. Tunstall, is a learned man, I hear. My friend Sir John Walsh knew him and Dean Colet years ago, and he thinks it likely that the Bishop will give me a lodging in his house, and such help from books in his library as I may find needful for my task; and so he has commended me to Sir Harry Guildford to introduce me to the Bishop. What do you think of this plan?" he asked, seeing Miles looked serious.
"I would not tell all men what project you have in mind; my lord of London may be able to help a little, but he is cautious, and I think he would be afraid to help in anything that would put the Bible into the hands of the people."
"But he has helped forward the new learning—he was a great friend of Erasmus—he is not an ignorant bigot like some of the monks and preaching friars," said Tyndale, eagerly; for, from what he had heard from Sir John Walsh, he made sure that the Bishop would be quite as willing to help him as he had been to help Erasmus, if only he could be introduced to his notice by a duly accredited person.
Miles had seen and known a good deal about Dr. Tunstall, as well as other friends of the new learning, since he had been in the service of the Cardinal; and the conclusion he had arrived at was this: that in almost every instance these men were afraid of what the consequences would be if the Word of God was put into the hands of the people to be read in English, and the teaching of the Church compared with what they read there.
He had heard all sorts of discussions in his master's household upon this topic of making the new sources of learning available for the people themselves, and not merely for the rich and learned. In general the opinion was that it would be most dangerous to do this, and he gave William Tyndale the benefit of his experience, but at the same time said he would do all he could to further his plans, for he too desired to see the New Testament in the hands of the people, which, he held, would—if anything could—bring into existence More's "Utopia," which at present could only be a daydream, but could be made a reality if men would only learn to live and practice the Divine law,—to do to others as they could justly wish others should do to them if their places were reversed.
"I am afraid we cannot hope for that yet," said Tyndale, with a grave smile.
"Of course not. The first step towards it is not gained yet, for the people are in ignorance of this royal law, but when once they learn it—learn to live by it—all things will be changed."