You remember that just a year after the first bales of goods containing English New Testaments were put ashore in this country, an order was given by the great cardinal that London and the neighboring country should be diligently searched for forbidden books, and all who possessed them were called upon to give them up. It must have been a pitiful sight to see the poor country folk, who had spent their hardly earned savings upon a book which, difficult though it might be to them to read it, yet contained God’s message to them in their own mother tongue, coming one by one to deliver up their treasure that it might be cast into the flames. But the order was not lightly to be disobeyed, and the search was carried on so vigorously that but few hiding places could remain undiscovered.
One of the first places visited by the officers who had charge of this business was the house of a curate, named Garratt, who lived in Honey Lane, a narrow street hard by Cheapside.
In order that you may see how real was the danger at this time, and how much faith was needed by any who desired to obey God rather than man, we will look back a little and see what Garratt had been doing, and why his house should be one of the first to be visited.
Some months before, when the Dutch traders had been seeking a safe resting place for a number of Testaments which they had conveyed to London, Garratt, a faithful, though timid man, had quietly come forward and offered to take them into his house. There the English books, which were soon to become so dangerous to any who harbored them, were stowed away, and the good curate kept anxious watch over the treasure entrusted to his care. Already well known to the poor by his simple sermons, preached in the old church of All Hallows, in the City, Garratt soon attracted an unwelcome amount of attention by holding meetings for reading the Scriptures. Then, becoming bolder by degrees, he sold the Testaments of which he had taken charge, to any who would buy them, and even carried them from place to place, offering them to the country folk in the neighboring villages. It is not wonderful, then, that the officers appointed to search for forbidden books should soon have found their way to Honey Lane. All was done very suddenly and without warning. The proclamation had hardly been made before the search began, and when Garratt’s house was visited the master was absent. After vainly seeking for him at the house of Monmouth, the good merchant who had befriended Tyndale on his coming to London, the officers heard that he had probably gone off to Oxford to sell his books there. To Oxford, therefore, they proceeded.
You will remember that at Cambridge there were many scholars and students who had received the word of God as good seed in their hearts, and who loved to read the Greek Testament of Erasmus together in their quiet meetings at the White House. Some of them, among the rest Tyndale’s friend John Fryth, had lately removed to Oxford, for Wolsey, who loved learning and was always a friend to learned men, had founded a college there, in which he took great interest.
Little knowing what would result from his efforts to obtain the services of ripe scholars for his new college, he removed thither some of the most noted of the Cambridge men, who brought with them to their new home at Cardinal’s College a knowledge better than the human learning for which they were so famous.
In the city of Oxford, then, Garratt was selling his books to ready buyers when news was brought him that the officers of Wolsey were close upon his track. Greatly alarmed, he hastened to the house of his friend Anthony Delaber, who himself tells the story of his distress. Advised by him, Garratt, under another name, left Oxford unobserved, and set out across the country, hoping to find refuge with a brother of Delaber’s in Dorsetshire, until he could get safely over sea; for in England he could no longer remain.
When Garratt had left him Delaber proceeded to collect all his forbidden books, for besides a stock of English Testaments he had several of Luther’s works in his possession. Having securely concealed these within a secret recess in the walls of his chamber, he left his rooms for others, taking with him the Testament of Erasmus and a French commentary on the gospel of St. Luke.
Meanwhile Garratt, on his way to Dorset-shire, carrying a letter from Delaber to his brother, was in sore trouble and perplexity. The more he thought of the plan for his safety which had been devised by his friend Anthony, the more unworthy of a servant of Christ did it seem. He knew that his friend’s brother, to whom he was going, under a feigned name, to offer himself as curate, was one who would have no sympathy with a “known man,” as the friends of the gospel began to be called. If he were to enter his service, even for a time, would he not be obliged to deny his faith, and follow many practices which his conscience told him were contrary to the truth as he had learned it? Nay, would he not be obliged even to teach to others what he did not himself believe?
Verily it would be better for him to go to prison or to death than to take such a way of escape; and after long conflict (for they were no imaginary dangers which he must face if he would be faithful) Garratt’s mind was made up. Retracing his steps, he went back to Oxford, and quietly retired to rest. That same night he was taken from his bed and locked into a room in Cardinal’s College, while news of his arrest was sent to Wolsey.
Garratt contrived to escape, however, and found his way to the new rooms occupied by Delaber, who was much surprised to see him, believing him to be in safety with his brother.
With surprise was mingled alarm, both for himself and his friend, for Garratt had not come alone, but was accompanied by a servant of the college who had shown him the way. “Alas, Master Garratt,” Anthony said, hastily, “you have ruined us both.”
The poor curate stood before him trembling, and besought him to save him. “With deep sighs and plenty of tears he prayed me,” said Delaber afterward, in describing the scene, “to help to convey him away, and so he cast off his hood and his gown wherein he came to me, and desired me to give him a coat with sleeves, if I had any; and told me that he would go into Wales, and thence convey himself to Germany if he might. Then I put on him a sleeved coat of mine, of fine cloth in grain, which my mother had given me. He would have another cap of me, but I had none but priest like, such as his own was. Then kneeled we down together on our knees, lifting up our hearts and hands to God our heavenly Father, desiring Him with plenty of tears so to conduct and prosper him in his journey that he might well escape the danger of his enemies, to the glory of His holy Name, if His good pleasure and will so were. And then we embraced and kissed one another, and so he departed from me appareled in my coat.
“When Master Garratt had gone down the stairs from my chamber, I straight ways did shut my chamber door, and went into my study, shutting the door unto me, and took the New Testament in my hands, kneeled down on my knees, and with many a deep sigh and salt tear I did with much deliberation read over the tenth chapter of St. Matthew’s gospel. And when I had so done, with fervent prayer I did commit unto God our dearly beloved brother Garratt, earnestly beseeching Him in and for Jesus Christ’s sake, His only begotten Son our Lord, that He would vouchsafe not only safely to conduct and keep our said dear brother from the hands of all his enemies, but also that He would endure His tender and lately born little flock in Oxford with heavenly strength by His Holy Spirit; that they might be well able thereby valiantly to withstand to His glory all their fierce enemies, and also might quietly, to their own salvation, with all godly patience bear Christ’s heavy cross, which I now saw was presently to be laid upon their young and weak backs, unable to bear so huge a one without the great help of His Holy Spirit. This done, I laid aside my book safe.”
If you read the tenth chapter of St. Matthew, you will see that the Lord Jesus Christ spoke to His disciples of how they should be persecuted, and told them plainly that they should be hated of all men for His name’s sake; for the disciple was to be as his Master. Is it not touching to think of Delaber thus in his hour of fear and danger, turning to this chapter, and reading the words in which the disciples were warned to expect persecution, even unto death; yet encouraged to have no fear of those that kill the body, but cannot kill the soul? That promise of the Lord to those who were faithful, “Whosoever shall confess Me before men, him will I also confess before My Father which is in heaven,” must have been very sweet to him.
Next day, while the news of Garratt’s flight was received with deep thankfulness by his friends, the officers of Wolsey were filled with dismay. They knew not how to justify themselves for allowing their prisoner to escape. Delaber, fearing that the servant who had brought Garratt to his rooms would betray him, spent the time in the company of his brethren, who, when they saw him pale and trembling, could only commend him to the care of God. If it were known that he had helped his friend to escape, no doubt heavy vengeance would fall upon him. Venturing at last to return to his rooms, Delaber started back in astonishment and dread; the door which he had carefully locked behind him was open, and all his furniture was in confusion, and his bed clothes were scattered about the floor. While he stood wondering, a monk came to tell him that armed men had broken into his rooms during the night, and had even pierced his mattress with their swords in their endeavor to make sure that Garratt was not concealed somewhere. He went on to say that he had been sent to conduct Delaber to the prior. When brought before him, he confessed that Garratt had been with him the day before, but neither the prior nor Bishop Tonstall, before whom he was next brought, could induce him to say anything more.
After trying to move him by threats of imprisonment and torture, they gave orders that he should be placed in the stocks, and so left him.
When Delaber, now two years ago, had sought the friendship of one of the Cambridge gospelers whom Wolsey had brought to his college, beseeching that he might be with him as a son with a father, he had received faithful warning of what might await him “Alas,” said his friend, pityingly, “you know not what you ask! My teaching is pleasant to you now, but the time will come when God will lay the cross of persecution upon you; you will be dragged before bishops, your name will be covered with shame in this world, and all who love you will be heartbroken on account of you.”
“Surely,” thought Anthony, “the time whereof he spoke has come now;” and, with many a groan, he prayed to God to grant him to be faithful, and to give him courage to die rather than betray his brethren, for he believed that by his means Wolsey would seek to discover how far the contagion of heresy had spread among the scholars of Cardinal’s College, and from them throughout Oxford.
You are not called to be martyrs for Christ’s name, but none the less are you called to be faithful to Him. As we are faithful in little things, so shall we be in great things. Do you think the noble men who died to Christ could have done so had they not lived Christ?