"Not much, father, save that there is some stir about this new invention which some men say comes straight from the Devil, while others are equally certain that it has descended from heaven."
"Ah! you mean the wonderful art of printing," said Father Paul; "both parties have somewhat of truth in their assertions. Old men can see deeper into the depths of the future than young men; and those who, like me, are drawing very near the golden gates, are permitted to see, though but dimly, far down the slope of time into days that are to come; and I see, in this way of multiplying books, a great curse and a great blessing for the world. Have you seen any of the work?"
"That have I, Father--several works; and I have brought you here one sheet, that you may see it for yourself."
The old man takes the sheet with trembling hands; it is the first chapter of Matthew's gospel.
"One of the men from whom I purchased this is very sanguine; he thinks that when they have all their metal type, they may be able to print a Bible in a day. Surely that would be a wondrous thing!"
"A wondrous thing, and a glorious thing!" said Father Paul, rising to his feet, and steadying himself with his staff, while his eye brightened, and his whole face beamed with what seemed almost the spirit of inspiration. "Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for the day of the Reformation is breaking! The day promised so long is coming, O Lord! I have waited for thy salvation! The chains which have kept thy precious Word from the people are breaking, one by one. In the Lord's good time will he accomplish it. Glorious is the perfect liberty of the sons of God--the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and which he is about to proclaim to the whole world! When each peasant can have his Bible in his hand, then shall arise men mighty to preach it. Then shall Rome tremble on her seven hills, and the song of the redeemed captives go up to the Lord from all the ends of the earth!
"Lord, how long? Lord, how long? Hasten the day, for thine elect's sake. O Lord Jesus! come quickly!"
The old man sank back again on his seat, the tears dropping slowly on his white beard, his head bowed on the hands which rested on the top of his staff.
Geoffrey and his wife have drawn near, and heard the old man's last words.
"Forgive me, my children," he says at last. "From the top of this Pisgah I see a glorious land. There are visions opening to my mind such as words cannot paint. Let me be a little while in silence."