In so perilous a position his safety depended upon his courting oblivion.

But instead of that, and consulting only the dictates of his generous and blind confidence in the goodness of his cause, he resolved to assume the offensive and to cry for justice against his enemies.

"Beneath the cloak of religion," he wrote to Erasmus, "the priests conceal the vilest passions, the most corrupt morals, and the most scandalous infidelity.
It is necessary to rend the veil which covers them, and boldly bring an accusation of impiety against the Sorbonne, Rome, and all their flunkies." Erasmus, justly alarmed, used all his influence to deter him: but "the more confidence he showed," says he, "the more I feared for him.
I wrote to him frequently, begging him to get quit of the case by some expedient, or even to withdraw himself on the pretext of a royal ambassadorship obtained by the influence of his friends.

I told him that the theologians would probably, as time went on, let his affair drop, but that they would never admit themselves to be guilty of impiety.

I told him to always bear in mind what a hydra was that Beda, and at how many mouths he belched forth venom.