Few men were more wise for their years than Thomas Wolsey, when Fellow of Magdalen College, Oxford: few, if any, ever attained greater celebrity for his extraordinary progress in logic and philosophy: so that at twenty-four years of age, it might be said of him that he was, take him for all things, the wisest man in the University. Melancholy indeed were his reflections when he attended the funeral of his father, and heard the news of Ellen De Freston's engagement to Latimer. Up to this period of his existence, the secret bad been kept within his own soul, unless a slight breath thereof reached his mother's ear. It never would have been known beyond that ear, had not a very old poem, called 'Wolsey's Lament,' revealed it; and accounted for very much that was alike strange in his early years and upon no other grounds to be accounted for. Wolsey's grief at the loss of his father was given out as the reason why he visited no one, would be seen by no one--excluded himself from all his former associates, and even deserted the mansion of his noble Lord De Freston. Ellen sent him an invitation--Latimer, unable to move to Ipswich, hoped he would come to him. He wanted to talk over College affairs; but Wolsey's heart sickened at these things. Dame Joan had the task of making excuses for him, which she did, assigning his utter inability to enjoy anything. A certain time he must remain at Ipswich to settle his father's affairs, prove his will, and administer to his effects. He felt that the sooner that time was over, the better it would be for him. Vain were all the kind letters, messages, and even personal attentions which the Lord of Freston Tower and his daughter paid to him. He could neither receive nor answer them: but wandered over the hills of Stoke, where he poured out his melancholy spirit.