'Thou hast renounced society, of which thou might'st have been an ornament, and the opportunity of doing good to thy fellow-creatures, by leading them to see their errors, and helping them to correct their lives, by thine example; and hast taken upon thyself to work out thy salvation by thine own righteousness; or, at least, by calling that a life of faith which is, indeed, a life of presumption. Pardon my boldness, father, but we will converse of these things another time, and let me tell thee it is the consciousness of this truth which makes thee wear a different face.' 'My son, thou art right, but I owe not this conviction to thine argument, but to his whose guest I am.' 'And I am his debtor for kindness which my life cannot repay.' 'I have listened,' said the Lord De Freston, 'to your conversation; but let us not make hospitality to consist of words. Come, my dearest friends, I am a debtor to you all, and the only way I can repay you is to place my house at your service.' 'And so make us greater debtors still.' 'As long as we owe each other nothing but love, we can give, take, borrow, lend, exchange, and demand compound interest for our loan, and yet be none of us usurers, but friends; so let us to the banquet hall.' It was in such spirit that these friends met, and, as may be supposed, the interchange of affection was of that kind which, free from bigotry and superstition, promoted good-will and charity, and was honorable in the sight of God and man. Still this very intimacy between such enlightened beings became a tool for working mischief, in the hands of those whose ignorance was only excelled by their cruelties, and, as we shall see, led to the sorrow of some, but to the joy of a great many. CHAPTER XXXI. THE PUNISHMENT. Wolsey returned to Oxford resolved to think no more of Ipswich, the Orwell, Freston Tower, Ellen, or the scenes of his youth. There was a singular reaction of life in him about this time, for which some of his warmest friends could not account. The learned, laborious, enterprising scholar, became the indefatigable architect, devoting the energies of his great mind to the ornamenting the loftiest stories of his magnificent tower. The funds of his college, assisted by contributions from noblemen and gentlemen connected with Oxford, and from all whom he could inspire with something of his own spirit were devoted to that building. Both Wolsey's and Latimer's Tower are still standing; one still preserved in all its grandeur as a noble feature of Oxford; the other, lonely and deserted, still looks over the lovely river Orwell, and is the wonder of all who sail down to Harwich.