“So upon a time,” continues Foxe, “some of these beneficed doctors bid Master Walsh and the lady his wife at a supper or banquet, there having among them talk at will without any gainsaying. The supper or banquet being done, and Master Walsh and his lady being come home, they called for Master Tyndale, and talked with him of such communication as had been where they came from and of their opinions. Master Tyndale thereunto made answer agreeable to the truth of God’s Word, and in reproving of their false opinions. The Lady Walsh, being a stout woman, and as Master Tyndale did report her to be wise, there being no more but they three, Master Walsh, his wife, and Master Tyndale: ‘Well,’ said she, ‘there was such a doctor he may dispend two hundred pound by the year; another one hundred pound; and another three hundred pound; and what think ye, were it reason that we should believe you before them so great, learned, and beneficed men?’ Master Tyndale, hearing her, gave her no answer; nor after that had but small arguments against such, for he perceived it would not help, in effect to the contrary.”
The character of the disputes may be inferred from the following paragraph which has been compiled by D’Aubigné from Tyndale’s writings:—
“In the dining-room of the old hall a varied group was assembled round the hospitable table. There were Sir John and Lady Walsh, a few gentlemen of the neighbourhood, with several abbots, deans, monks, and doctors in their respective costumes. Tyndale occupied the humblest place, and generally kept Erasmus’ New Testament within reach, in order to prove what he advanced. Numerous domestics were moving about engaged in waiting on the guests; and at length the conversation, after wandering a little, took a more precise direction. The priests grew impatient when they saw the terrible volume appear. ‘Your Scriptures only seem to make heretics,’ they exclaimed. ‘On the contrary,’ replied Tyndale, ‘the source of heresies is pride; now, the Word of God strips man of everything, and leaves him as bare as Job.’ ‘The Word of God! Why, even we don’t understand your Word; how can the vulgar understand it?’ ‘You don’t understand it,’ rejoined Tyndale, ‘because you look into it only for foolish questions. Now, the Scriptures are a clue, which we must follow without turning aside until we arrive at Christ, for Christ is the end.’ ‘And I tell you,’ shouted out another priest, ‘that the Scriptures are a Dædalian labyrinth—a conjuring-book wherein everybody finds what he wants.’ ‘Alas!’ replied Tyndale, ‘you read them without Jesus Christ; that’s why they are an obscure book to you. What do I say? A grave of briars; if thou loose thyself in one place thou art caught in another.’ ‘No; it is we who give the Scriptures, and we who explain them to you.’ ‘You set candles before images,’ replied Tyndale; ‘and since you give them light, why don’t you give them food? Why don’t you make their bellies hollow, and put victuals and drink inside? To serve God by such mummeries is treating Him like a spoilt child, whom you pacify with a toy, or you make him a horse out of a stick.’”
It is no wonder that such discussions (for this picture is probably a fair sample of many, that took place both in the hall of the manor-house, and in the houses of the neighbouring clergy and gentry) disturbed the minds of the knight and of his wife. As Tyndale could not reply to the argument from wealth, he called in the aid of Erasmus, who was then at the zenith of his fame. Some eleven years before, Erasmus had written a book entitled “The Manual of a Christian Soldier.” This work Tyndale translated and placed in the hands of Lady Walsh. The opinions of Tyndale were, of course, despicable because he was poor, but Erasmus was the pet of princes, and his words could not well be disregarded. Erasmus in this book had condemned the follies of the Church teachers of his day, and demanded, concerning those things which pertain to faith, “Why, let them be expressed in the fewest possible articles; those which pertain to good living, let them also be expressed in few words, and so expressed that men may understand that the yoke of Christ is easy and light, and not harsh; that they may see that in the clergy they have found fathers and not tyrants; pastors, not robbers; that they are invited to salvation, and not dragged to slavery.”
“After they had read this book,” says Foxe, “these great prelates were no more so often called to the house, nor when they came had the cheer and countenance as they were wont to have, the which they did well perceive, and also that it was by the means and incensing of Master Tyndale, and at last they came no more there.”
Tyndale had converted the knight and his wife, but he had also made for himself some implacable and restless enemies. He further increased their hatred by preaching in the villages round about, and, as one tradition asserts, even in Bristol. The priests inflamed one another with hatred against him, and at length Tyndale was summoned before the Chancellor of the diocese to answer for his conduct.
“When I came before the Chancellor, he threatened me grievously, and reviled me, and rated me as though I had been a dog; and laid to my charge whereof there could be none accused brought forth,” says Tyndale himself of this trial.
But Tyndale was not the man to desist when once he had learned what his duty was. He has chronicled the workings of his mind at this period thus: “A thousand books had they lever (rather) to be put forth against their abominable doings and doctrines than that the Scripture should come to light ... which thing only moved me to translate the New Testament. Because I had perceived by experience how it was impossible to establish the lay-people in any truth, except the Scriptures were plainly laid before their eyes in their mother-tongue, that they might see the process, order, and meaning of the text: for else, whatsoever truth is taught them these enemies of all truth quench it again.”
In his perplexity Tyndale sought for counsel and sympathy from “a certain doctor that dwelt not far off, and had been an old Chancellor before to a bishop. ‘Do you not know,’ said the ex-Chancellor, ‘that the Pope is very antichrist, whom the Scripture speaketh of? But beware what you say; for if you shall be perceived to be of that opinion, it will cost you your life. I have been an officer of his, but I have given it up, and I defy him and all his works.’”
Soon after this visit “Master Tyndale happened to be in the company of a learned man, and in communing and disputing with him, drove him to that issue that the learned man said, ‘We had better be without God’s laws than the Pope’s.’ Master Tyndale hearing that, answered him, ‘I defy the Pope and all his laws;’ and said, ‘If God spare my life, ere many years I will cause a boy that driveth the plough shall know more of the Scripture than thou doest.’”