'Was it so, Latimer? Then I fear the poor youth had imbibed a preference for my society, which is indeed flattering to me, though so fatal to himself. We were very partial to him. He was always pleasant, though at times impetuous, and dictatorial in his arguments. Can you not now pity him, William, if he did imagine, in the ardor of his literary pursuits, that I should one day be his companion? All things considered, he must have endured what scarcely any other man could have borne. I do now see through the whole of his conduct. I fear he has done violence to his better nature in the steps he has taken to prove to us all the sublimity of his faith.' 'I can now account for all his strange behaviour--yet, if he had succeeded--' 'What, William?' 'I might have been as wretched as himself.' 'May my whole life prove that I estimate the sacrifice you would have made of self upon the altar of friendship, but how will Thomas Wolsey take this blow?' 'That remains to be seen. He is not a man to sink under misfortune. He will devote himself to great objects. His learning will be a passport to greatness, and Oxford will afford him a fine field for the display of his talents. He will be a great man in the church.' 'I wish he may be a good one! His views are seemingly very much exalted by his priesthood, and personal pride has not permitted him to display either that amiability or generosity of opinion, in letters or in religion, which formerly he seemed to possess. It would be strange if his great mind should be narrowed by his assumption of the priesthood.' 'It would indeed be a great misfortune; for a nobler nature than Wolsey's, and a more generous, frank, and liberal disposition scarcely ever inhabited the breast of man when I first introduced him at Oxford. His manners, his knowledge of letters, his talents, were all open, clear, candid, and at the free gift and service of others. He is now a priest of Rome. He cannot forget his learning, but it is doubtful whether he will use it for the good of his countrymen or for his own ambition. Rome, I fear, will scarcely let him think and act for himself, and certainly not for the great objects which now seem to be attracting the eyes of the learned in the spirit of the Reformation. Wolsey might do great things; but will he? Had he but the heart of Wickliffe, what might not England see him produce.' 'We shall see, Latimer. He cannot be ignorant; he may be bigoted and worldly-minded, but he cannot be ignorant of the truth. We are to visit our dear father at Freston hall to-day. How I love to see him enjoying his books and our company! What a pleasure is it, William, to a daughter to promote the happiness of her father!'