Had not ambition inflated his breast, Wolsey would have enjoyed to the full the exquisite scene of that April morn. But ambition had so fired his genius that even the lovely river then flowing before him, the light of the heavens, the birds of the air chaunting their praises, and the monks at their matin prayers, had no charms for him. Not even the consciousness of classical knowledge could just then satisfy his mind; for he had received an indirect promise from Lord De Freston that he should go to Oxford, and such a vision of future glory had opened before him, that even his native town, with all the cordial friends it contained, were completely thrown into the back-ground. Ambition is a syren who deprives of rest those who are once charmed by her voice; and when she prompts to grandeur, and all the imaginative self-consequences of a great name, fame, and power, there are no cruelties through which she will not urge her victims, and, like fabled deities of the heathen, cover them with her mantle or cloud of invisibility. Moral reflection founded upon the only motive worthy of exertion, the good of others, is a very distant object in the aspirations of a vain man. Destroy selfishness, and all that is laudable, honorable, great, and worthy in the human character will then shine forth, and whether present success shall attend it, or future generations celebrate its worth, it cannot be destroyed by disappointment, since the serenity of equanimity is the same, whether the individual be humbled by the praises of men, or exalted by their persecutions. Selfish ambition, however plausible or deluding, cannot bear, with an equal mind, the frowns of adversity. Success forms the criterion of its own excellence; and it can no more enjoy the quietude of retirement, than a famous actor can relish the coldness of his audience. CHAPTER II. RIVALSHIP. The young student was evidently expecting to see something upon the waves of the Orwell more attractive than even the book in his hand, or the scenery before him; for, as the matin bell of the priory came pealing over the waters from the opposite shore, the warder's horn from De Freston's castle was heard to blow. The signal appeared to be well understood by the youth, who immediately began to close his thick and heavy tome, and to adjust the silver hooks of the clasps into their sockets. His eye was turned towards the bend of the river, round which, close under the dipping boughs of the old chestnut trees, a boat, impelled by four stout rowers, was making progress against the wind, but with the tide in their favor. The sparkling waters which dashed from the head of the skiff, as the oars struck the waves, glittered with scarcely more lustre than did the eye of the youth, whilst he surveyed the expected comers, and awaited their approach.