The Cardinal had one day's respite from the cares of pomp and state. He had been expecting to be called upon to give up the great seal, and well knew that when his enemies once got the advantage of him, they would not long rest without injuring him. He had lost his master's favor; he had loved that master. Yes, with all his pomp and greatness, Wolsey never was otherwise, or felt otherwise, than a servant. Had he obtained the summit of his ambition, and been made Pope, he might have then assumed a very different tone with Henry. He would have been removed from outward subjection; and his was master-mind enough to rule princes absolutely under the tiara of the papal glory. It was not to be. The subject whom the King had exalted as his favorite was to be an example to all England, as Napoleon was to all the world, that power, when too much self-exalted, is to be humbled very low before it departs, or before a man departs from it. Wolsey perhaps never was greater than in his humiliation, when he lost the favor of the King; and Napoleon never was greater than when on the Rock of St. Helena. Ambition was destroyed in them both. Happy they whose only ambition in this life is to subdue themselves. Experience will soon teach the proudest they are unhappy, though they subdue kingdoms; and experience will soon prove that the humbler a man is, so much the more he makes others happy, and promotes his own comfort. The Cardinal rose at his usual hour, read his despatches, answered the messengers from various quarters, and inquired after his guests. He sent to say that he would be happy to receive them in his own room at nine o'clock. In the meantime they had been supplied with all the bountiful care of hospitality, and were themselves softened, all of them, towards the Cardinal. At nine o'clock the interview was to take place between him and those early friends, whom he had been instrumental in uniting by a bond which he would have been glad to have called his own. There is a strange sensation in hearts long estranged coming together again. Even in the common intercourse of life, when accident causes two friends to meet, between whom, in early years, the pure friendship of social good-will had existed, how does the heart expand with the remembrance of incidents, events, accidents, or words wherein was no guile, but the simple fervor of youthful respect! That heart which cannot so feel in love, will know no pleasure in the prospect of meeting its generation when it rises from the dust. Oh! that ever a word or a deed should make the human heart unkind! Men ought to learn to love one another here, that they may be happy hereafter.