CHAPTER V.

THE CHRISTIAN BROTHER.

The stranger paused a moment before answering Jack's question, and scrutinized his face.

"Why do you think it a Bible?" he asked.

"Because, sir, I find words here like those I have heard before, and which I was told were in the Bible. Here is the very tale of that son who left his father and his home, and went away to waste his goods in a far country, which Uncle Thomas told me. And here are those other words, 'Fear ye not them which kill the body and be not able to kill the soul.' Oh, sir, is it not really a Bible?"

The stranger dismounted from his horse and walked slowly along by Jack's side.

"My dear boy," said he gravely but kindly, "will you tell me from whom you have learned so much of Holy Scripture? Nay, I will not ask, if it is a secret," he added, seeing Jack hesitate. "I am a stranger, and cannot reasonably ask you to trust me at sight. Nevertheless, I will trust you, and answer your questions. This book is a part of Holy Scripture, that part which contains the life and sayings of our Lord, and the letters of His Apostles, lately translated, and done into English, that plain men may read that which it concerneth their salvation to know. It is to be hoped, in time, that we shall have the whole Bible in English, but the New Testament is put forth first as being the most important to Christian men."

Jack walked on in silence, still looking at the precious volume. "I would give all I have," said he at last, "for such a book as this."

"Would you, indeed?" asked the stranger. "That is verily in accordance with Holy Writ, which saith, 'The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hid in the field, the which a man found and hid it; and for joy thereof goeth and selleth all that he hath, and buyeth that field.'"

"But, dear lad, you are but young and tender, and the possession of this book hath its dangers. There be many who look upon it as the work of the devil and his servants. Sir Thomas More, himself—albeit in many respects a good and wise man—would gladly burn both the books and their authors and readers. Such risks are not for children like you."

"But, sir, does not this very book say we are not to fear them which kill the body?" asked Jack. "Did not the man in the parable you have just spoken sell all he had to buy the treasure hid in a field?"

"Even so, my son."

"My uncle's father was burned for having in his house and reading an English Bible," pursued Jack, "and he went to his death with joy. Oh, sir, I have so longed and prayed to see an English or Latin Bible!"

"Ay, so! You can read your Latin Bible," said the stranger, "You are, then, a scholar?"

"No great scholar as yet, though I can read Latin well enough," said Jack, with not unjustifiable pride. "I took the gold medal at Bridgewater grammar school, and Sir William Leavett says I can go to Oxford in another year, if my health fail not. I came to keep sheep with my uncle in Holford because I was sickly with too much study, but I am quite well now."

"And was it your uncle or your father from whom you parted but now?"

"My father, sir, and, I do think, the best man in all the world. My uncle lives in a cottage just under the hill yonder."

"And you are of Bridgewater, and know my cousin, Sir William Leavett?" continued the stranger. "I purpose to visit him before my return. Is the good man well?"

"Quite well, sir, my father says. He is indeed a good man, and beloved by gentle and simple among his own flock. He has promised to come and see me one day, but his hands are always full of business, what with the school, and the poor and sick, and the Greek studies which he greatly affects."

"Ay, does he so? And you, do you know any Greek?"

"But very little, sir: only the letters and a few rules. My father is somewhat afraid of it, because one of the monks—Father Francis, the sacristan, who sometimes comes to see us—told him that Greek was a heathen language, not fit for Christians to learn. He said he was cast into a deep sleep only by trying to make out the forms of the letters, and so forgot to ring the bell for evensong," added Jack gravely, but with a certain spark of fun in his eyes. "But Father Francis is fat, and likes a humming cup of ale, and mayhap it was something else which put him to sleep."

"Very like, very like," said the stranger smiling. "My counsel to you is to learn all the Greek you can, and then you may read the New Testament in the original tongue. But that is a knowledge to which common men cannot well attain, and for that reason certain well-learned persons are advised to put forth this translation which you are now reading." (For Jack still held the book in his hand). "But if you will raise your eyes to the clouds, you will see that we are threatened with a storm of some violence, and that before many minutes are past. Can I reach the village or Hall, think you, before it breaks?"

"I fear not," replied Jack. "Your best way will be to come at once to my uncle's cottage, which is close at hand, and where, I am sure, you will be heartily welcome, if you can put up with so plain a place."

"I thank you, and will accept your offer," said the stranger, "if I shall not put your uncle's household to inconvenience."

"I am sure he will be glad to see you," said Jack. "But make haste, for the storm will quickly be upon us."

In effect, the traveller had hardly entered the door of Thomas Sprat's cottage, before the rain fell in torrents. Old Thomas was in the house, and made his guest courteously welcome.

"You were best bring your merchandise into the house, sir," said he. "We have no locks upon our stable door."

"Have you, then, dishonest neighbors?" asked the merchant.

"As to that, the place is much like other places," replied Thomas Sprat. "We have both good and bad neighbors, but the waste yonder harbors a sort of vagrants and masterless men, of whom our good knight has not been able altogether to rid us. I would ill like to have my guest robbed under my roof."

"And I would ill like to be robbed," said the merchant; "therefore, though the contents of my packs are not such as to tempt common thieves, I will, with the help of my young friend here, bestow them in the house. It will not be the first service he has rendered me, short as our acquaintance has been. He has restored to me a precious treasure, which my carelessness suffered to fall by the wayside; and not only so, but he has shown an acquaintance with its value which has much surprised me."

The shepherd looked surprised in his turn, but he said nothing till the packages of the traveller were safely placed in a corner, and the table spread with such food as could be provided from the resources of the cottage, aided by the stores of Cicely's hamper. The stranger said grace, and sat down to his meal, which he discussed with a good appetite.

"I find your grandson—or nephew I think he called himself—a good scholar," said the stranger, addressing the old shepherd. "He tells me that he can read Latin and has begun to learn Greek."

"Yes, the lad has profited at his book," replied the shepherd. "I am no scholar myself, beyond reading and writing, but they tell me Jack is a good one for his years and has won high honors at the school in Bridgewater. But I fear, Jack, the stranger will think you over-forward, if you are so ready to boast your own learning."

"It was through no boasting of his, but through my own questioning, that I learned as much," said the stranger. "He picked up a book which I let fall, and coming back to seek it, and finding him engaged in reading it, we naturally fell into conversation. I was much surprised and pleased to find him already acquainted with its contents."

"Indeed! It will be some of his school Latin books, doubtless."

Jack looked at the stranger with a gesture and glance of entreaty.

"Oh, sir, may I not show my uncle the book?" he asked. "Old Margery is deaf. She will not hear a word or notice anything. May I not show him the book?"

"You may do so, if you will," replied the stranger, with a benevolent smile. "I see no harm it can do, since it is to your uncle you tell me you owe all your knowledge of its contents."

The shepherd looked wonderingly from one to the other. Jack opened the volume haphazard, and put it into his uncle's hand. As the old man examined the page his expression changed from one of surprise and uneasiness, to a look of joyful awe and thankfulness. Clasping his hands and raising them to heaven, while his eyes filled with tears, he exclaimed, "I thank thee, O Lord! Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation. May the blessing of God rest upon you, sir, whoever you are, since you have brought to my eyes what they hardly expected to see again—the Word of God in the vulgar tongue. Sir, I know not who you are, you are a rich man belike, and I am but a poor shepherd; but if any treasure I possess can purchase this book—"

"Say no more, my good brother," replied the stranger. "With this book I cannot part, seeing it was the gift of a dear friend; but another copy of the Scriptures, in better print and more easy to your eyes, you shall have and welcome, and right glad am I to put it in such hands. I am, as you have said, a rich man, and I know not how I can spend my wealth better than by helping to spread the Gospel in this land which longs for it as a thirsty land for the rain of heaven."

So saying, the merchant undid one of his mails, and from under the rich silks and stuffs with which it was apparently filled, he drew forth a large copy of the New Testament and put it into his host's hands.

"To this book, as I said, you are freely welcome," said he. "It is the New Testament newly done into English by that learned clerk and godly man, Sir William Tyndale. I need not tell you that it is a treasure to be kept and used with caution, since many of the bishops and priests, not less than the King himself, are bitterly opposed to the reading of this translation."

"It is then a service of some danger you undertake in carrying these books about with you, Master—"

"My name is Richard Fleming, at your service, a merchant of London," said the stranger, as Thomas Sprat paused. "It is indeed a service of danger as you say. Yet it is not my own danger which at times appalls me and makes me almost ready to give up that which I have undertaken. It is the thought that these books, precious as they are, bring danger of persecution and even death to those who receive and read them. Even now, for aught I know, I may have thrust a firebrand into the thatch of your peaceful dwelling, or have, as it were, lighted a death-pile for this fair boy. When I think of these things I am ready to say: 'It is enough, Lord! Take away my life!' And yet the burden is laid upon me, yea, woe is me if I help not to spread the Gospel."

"I understand your feeling," said Thomas Sprat, as the stranger paused. "I have myself felt the same toward my young kinsman here, whom yet I have instructed so far as I was able in the words and meaning of Holy Scripture. Our blessed Lord knew it also doubtless when He said to His followers: 'they shall lay their hands on you, and persecute you, delivering you up to the synagogues and into prison, and bring you before kings and rulers, for my name's sake.' Yet I cannot but think that the boon is worth all it costs twice told. Shall we refuse to suffer for Him who died for us? Methinks you are a man to be envied, since you are permitted to spend your time and substance in thus spreading abroad the Word of God. I had thought the merchants of London too busy with their goods and merchandise, with the care of their gold, and the enjoyment of luxury in their fine houses, to care for aught else."

"It is alas! the case with too many of them," replied the stranger. "Yet are there many among them who are of my mind, and esteem the riches of God more than all the treasures of Egypt, who spend their time and their substance freely for the spread of His Word. An association has been formed among them called the Christian Brothers, of which I am a member; and we are pledged to devote ourselves and our goods to spreading a knowledge of pure Gospel truth in this land. I trust we have already sowed seed which shall spring up and bear fruit unto everlasting life, though we may not be spared to see its full fruition."

"It was a blessed hap which brought you here this day," said the old shepherd fervently. "Oh, how earnestly I have longed and prayed to see and read once more the Word of God which I knew and read in my youth. Son Jack, our prayers have been answered sooner than we hoped, though in a different way."

The Association of Christian Brothers, formed about the time of our story among the merchants of London, makes of itself a sufficient answer, if indeed an answer were needed, to those who sneer at trade and the pursuits of commerce as ignoble and unfitting the mind for great deeds. The object of these men was to disperse abroad among the people copies of the New Testament, and portions of the writings of the Reformers, as fast as they could be received from the printing-presses Antwerp and other Flemish and German cities.

For this end, the Christian Brothers and the agents travelled through the length and breadth the land, bearing their perilous yet precious commodities concealed among their goods, and disposing of them as they had opportunity. Of course the service was one of great danger. If any man were found circulating the Lutheran books, as they were called, public penance and disgrace and ruinous fines were the least he had to expect; and the flames and smoke of the stake were always in the background of the picture.

Nevertheless, those devoted men, the Christian Brothers, abated not a whit of their diligence; but availing themselves of their opportunities as merchants trading to Germany and the Low Countries, they brought over not only the New Testament in English, but other books and tracts in great numbers, which were carried throughout the whole of England, and eagerly caught up and read both by gentle and simple. Tyndale's prophecy, made years before in a dispute with a Romish priest, seemed in a fair way of being fulfilled: "Ere many years are past, the very plough-boys of this land shall know more of Holy Scripture than thou dost."

In our days, when the Bible lies on almost every shelf and may be had by every man, woman, and child in the land, when we can hardly remember our first acquaintance with the sacred text, it is difficult for us to enter into the feelings of those who read the Bible for the first time. To us, it has become as familiar, and it is to be feared often as tedious, as a twice told tale; and it requires all our reverence for the book as the written and authentic Word of God, to fix our attention upon our daily lesson.

To those who received the English New Testament from the hands of Tyndale and his followers, it possessed all the charm of novelty. They had heard at the best only short and garbled extracts from the Holy Book, and what little they knew was so overlaid and mixed up with legend and fable, that the whole gracious story was to them a new revelation, startling and arousing them alike from what it said and from what it did not say. The doctrine of purgatory, with all its tremendous consequences, fell at once to the ground. So did that of the invocation of saints; and especially the almost divine honors paid to the Blessed Virgin were seen to be wholly without foundation.

To many an overburdened soul painfully striving by prayers and penances to escape from the wrath to come, the knowledge of justification by means of faith in the Son of God, of free forgiveness through His own oblation of Himself once offered, came with an overwhelming sense of relief from an intolerable burden; while to another it brought a feeling of deep humiliation and mortification that all the self-made sanctity for which he had perhaps been celebrated and held up as an example to his fellows was of no avail or value in the eyes of God, not worth so much as a cup of cold water given in the name of Christ to one of His little ones.

Welcome or unwelcome, loved or hated, the Word of God went on its way. It was like the leaven which a woman took and hid in three measures of meal. No man who received it could hide it wholly within his heart. Consciously or unconsciously, it affected his conduct and appeared in his conversation; and thus the new ideas spread from one to another, even among those who were the most bitterly opposed to them.