No phase of Tindale's work intrigues the student so much as his perfect command of his native tongue. Where and how did he acquire this mastery of pure sonorous English, whose rhythmic prose is like stately music to the most cultured ear? Study of the Vulgate and of the originals he worked on has not indeed to be overlooked as a possible source; but there is a gift, native-born, or acquired in secret toil, which, with those tides of devout feeling we find swelling in the man himself, stamps the style as the organ utterance of his consecrated manhood.

Tindale's rendering of 1 Cor. 13, with the parallels for comparison of Wyclif and the Authorized Version of 1611, illustrates both the style of the great translator and the permanence of his translation in the version current for four hundred years.

Wyclif—1380

If I speke with tungis of men and of aungels, and I haue not charite, I am made as bras sownynge or a cymbal tinkynge, and if I haue profecie, and knowe alle mysteries, and al kynnynge, and if I haue al feith so that I meue hillis fro her place and I haue not charite I am nouzt, and if I departe alle my godis in to metis of pore men, and if I bitake my bodi so that I brenne, and I haue not charite if profetith to me no thing, charite is pacient, it is benyngne.

charite enuyeth not, it doth not wickidli it is not blowun it is not coueitous, it sekith not the thingis that ben his owne, it is not stired to wraththe, it thenkith not yuel, it ioieth not on wickidnesse, but it ioieth to gidre to truthe, it suffrith alle thingis: it beleueth alle thingis, it hopith alle thingis it susteyneth alle thingis, charite fallith neuer doun, whether profecies schuln be voidid, ether langagis schulen cease: ether science schal be distried,

for aparti we knowen and aparti we profecien, but whanne that schal come that is perfizt, that thing that is of parti schal be avoidid, whanne I was a litil child, I thouzt as a litil child, but whanne I was made a man I voidid tho thingis that weren of a litil child, and we seen now bi a myrrour in derknesse: but thanne face to face, now I knowe of parti, but thanne I schal knowe as I am knowen, and now dwellen feith hope and charite these thre: but the moost of thes is charite.

Tyndale—1536

Though I spake with the tonges of men and angels, and yet had no love, I were even as soundings brasse: or as a tynklynge Cymball. And though I coulde prophesy, and vnderstode all secretes, and all knowledge: yee, yf I had all fayth so that I coulde move mountayns oute of ther places, and yet had no love, I were nothynge. And though I bestowed all my gooddes to fede the poore, and though I gave my body even that I burned, and yet had no love, it profeteth me nothinge. Love suffreth longe, and is cirteous. Love envieth not. Love doth nor frowardly, swelleth not dealeth not dishonestly, seeketh not her awne is not provoked to anger, thynketh not evyll, reioyseth not in iniquite: but reioyseth in the trueth, suffreth all thynge, beleveth all thynges, hopeth all thynges, endureth in all thynges. Though that prophesyinge fayle, other tonges shall cease, or knowledge vanysshe awaye, yet love falleth never awaye.

For oure knowledge is vnparfect, and oure prophesyinge is vnperfect. But when that which is parfect is come, than that which is vnparfect shall be done awaye.

When I was a chylde, I spake as a chylde, I vnderstode as a chylde I ymagened as a chylde. But assone as I was a man, I put awaye childesshnes. Now we se in a glasse even in a darke speakynge: but then shall we se face to face. Now I knowe unparfectly: but then shall I knowe even as I am knowen. Now abideth fayth, hope, and love, even these thre: but the chief of these is love.