The Cambridge
scholars whom Wolsey introduced into Cardinal College which he was
founding spread the contagion through Oxford. A group of "Brethren" was
formed in Cardinal College for the secret reading and discussion of the
Epistles; and this soon included the more intelligent and learned scholars
of the University. It was in vain that Clark, the centre of this group,
strove to dissuade fresh members from joining it by warnings of the
impending dangers. "I fell down on my knees at his feet," says one of
them, Anthony Dalaber, "and with tears and sighs besought him that for the
tender mercy of God he should not refuse me, saying that I trusted verily
that he who had begun this on me would not forsake me, but would give me
grace to continue therein to the end. When he heard me say so he came to
me, took me in his arms, and kissed me, saying, 'The Lord God Almighty
grant you so to do, and from henceforth ever take me for your father, and
I will take you for my son in Christ.'"

[Sidenote: Latimer]

In 1528 the excitement which followed on this rapid diffusion of Tyndale's
works forced Wolsey to more vigorous action; many of the Oxford Brethren
were thrown into prison and their books seized. But in spite of the panic
of the Protestants, some of whom fled over sea, little severity was really
exercised. Henry's chief anxiety indeed was lest in the outburst against
heresy the interest of the New Learning should suffer harm. This was
remarkably shown in the protection he extended to one who was destined to
eclipse even the fame of Colet as a popular preacher. Hugh Latimer was the
son of a Leicestershire yeoman, whose armour the boy had buckled on in
Henry the Seventh's days ere he set out to meet the Cornish insurgents at
Blackheath field. Latimer has himself described the soldierly training of
his youth. "My father was delighted to teach me to shoot with the bow. He
taught me how to draw, how to lay my body to the bow, not to draw with
strength of arm as other nations do but with the strength of the body." At
fourteen he was at Cambridge, flinging himself into the New Learning which
was winning its way there with a zeal that at last told on his physical
strength. The ardour of his mental efforts left its mark on him in
ailments and enfeebled health from which, vigorous as he was, his frame
never wholly freed itself. But he was destined to be known, not as a
scholar, but as a preacher. In his addresses from the pulpit the s