opinions, indeed, followed with the stream, but who looked to life and practice for the fruit of opinions;—such men, I say, saw with sorrow and perplexity 'that increase of light had not brought with it increase of probity, that, as truth spread, charity and justice languished. 'In times past,' said Latimer, speaking from his own recollection, 'men were full of pity and compassion; but now there is no pity; for in London their brother shall die in the streets for cold, he shall lie sick at the door between stock and stock—I cannot tell what to call it and then perish for hunger. In times past, when any rich man died in London, they were wont to help the scholars at the Universities with exhibitions. When any man died, they would bequeath great sums of money towards the relief of the poor. When I was a scholar at Cambridge myself, I knew many that had relief of the rich men in London; but now I can hear no such good report, and yet I inquire of it and hearken for it. Charity is waxen cold; none helpeth the scholar nor yet the poor; now that the knowledge of God's Word is brought to light, and many earnestly study and labour to set it forth, now almost no man helpeth to maintain them.'[1] While the country was in the darkness of superstition, landowners and merchants were generous, the people prosperous, the necessaries of life abundant and cheap. The light of the gospel had come in, and with it selfishness, oppression, and misery.
- ↑ Sermon of the Plough, pp. 64, 65: Latimer's Sermons.
divino: sed est cunctabundus et ægre renunciat opinioni semel imbibitæ.'—Epistolæ Tigurinæ, p. 211.
