It is certain that Wolsey's proud spirit was not humbled, but that he, with a little more pretension to learning, was not less tyrannical. Sir Amias Pawlet cared nothing for him. He was a man of principle--a plain, straightforward man--grave, austere, and proud. He was not deficient in spirit, and a love of truth and propriety, though he was neither equal to Wolsey, Sir John Nafant, or the Marquis of Dorset, in letters or knowledge of the world. He was one of those strong-minded men, attached to the good laws of the land he lived in, and jealous too for the dignity of the church to which he belonged. He was not, at the time treated of, a convert to the then growing liberation of the souls of men from the corruptions of that superstition which encompassed all Christendom, but he was sensibly alive to the necessity of propriety in the character of the priesthood, and a man who was too earnest and sincere in his profession of religion to admit of any licentiousness. It was not likely that such a man, coming in contact with the learned and expansive genius of the young Wolsey, should shine before him. He did not, for he bent not to the idol of popular greatness, when he saw in him a regard only for things expedient, and a certain freedom of speech and behaviour, even in the company of the gentry of those counties, which ill became the Oxford divine, the tutor of the Marquis of Dorset's sons, and the great scholar of Magdalen. 'I like not your country squire, most noble peer,' said Wolsey to the Marquis: 'he is ignorant and positive, sturdy and absolute, and would do better for a jailer than for a magistrate of this county.' 'I like not your visitor, my lord,' said Sir Amias to the Marquis. 'He is much too clever and intriguing for my liking. He, no doubt, would be a very convenient father confessor; but I should as soon think of looking for absolution to your lordship's bloodhound as to him.' Now the Marquis was fully convinced that the priest of Lymington and the knight of the shire were distasteful to each other; but as he respected both, he kept his own counsel, and did not interfere with their respective animosities. It was no small sin in those days to speak anything disrespectful of the priesthood. Rome had such authority over the nobility, had invented so many intrigues of priest-craft, and had obtained such an ascendancy over the families of the great, that she employed qualified spies in every house to subject the inmates to penances, and works of her own imposition, even for the slightest offences, with which she could have nothing to do, and which could never take away one single fault. Sir Amias, however, was not to be imposed upon by any requirements on the part of the priesthood to which they did not themselves submit: and in his own family he was strict and conscientious, and expected his priest to be the same.