in all translations from the original tongue?"

Magdalen was now the speaker, and she looked earnestly at Clarke,
as though his words were words of the deepest wisdom, from which
there was no appeal.

"Errors in all--yes; but our Latin version is marvellously true to
the original, and when Wycliffe translated into English he was far
more correct than Tyndale has been. But it is the Tyndale
Testaments which have had so wide a sale of late in this country,
and which have set London in commotion--these and the writings of
Martin Luther, which the men from the Stillyard have brought up the
river in great quantities. But be the errors never so great, I call
it a shameful and a sinful thing, one that the Holy Church of olden
days would never have sanctioned--that the Word of God should be
publicly burnt, as an unholy and polluted thing, in presence of the
highest ecclesiastics of the land. In truth, I hold it a crime and
a sin. I would that such a scene might even now be averted."

"I should well like to see it!" spoke Dalaber, with that eager
impetuosity which characterized his movements. "I hate the thing
myself, yet I would fain see it, too. It would be something to
remember, something to speak of in future days, when, perchance,
the folly of it will be made manifest.

"Clarke, let us to London tomorrow! Easter is nigh at hand, and
your lectures have ceased for the present. Come with me, and let us
see this sight, and bring back word to our friends here how they
regard this matter in London. What do you say?"

Clarke's face was grave and thoughtful.

"I have some thoughts of visiting London myself during the next
week, but I had not thought to go to see the burning of books at
Paul's Cross."

"But that is what I wish to see!" cried Dalaber. "So, whether you
accompany me thither or not, at least let us travel to London
together, and quickly. It will be a thing to remember in days to
come; for verily I believe that the church will awaken soon, and
like a giant refreshed with wine will show what is in her, and will
gather her children about her as a hen gathers her chickens under
her wings, and will feed them, and care for them, and be as she has
been before to them, and that we shall see an end of the darkness
and indifference which has fallen like a pall upon this land."

Clarke rose with a smile, for the twilight was falling, and he
spoke his farewells to one after another of the doctor's family.

Magdalen's ey