religion, which preaches beyond a thousand lectures."[2]

On his road to London, whither he had been summoned, from his castle of
_Cawood_, by Henry, to take his trial for high treason, he was seized
with a disorder, which so much increased as to oblige his resting at
Leicester, where he was met at the Abbey gate by the Abbot and his whole
convent. The first ejaculation of Wolsey, on meeting these holy persons,
plainly shows that he was fully aware of his approaching end: "Father
Abbot," said he, "I am come hither to lay my bones among you;"[3] and it
was with great difficulty that they could get him up the stairs, which
it was fated he was never again to descend alive. A short time previous
to his death, he thus addressed the Constable of the Tower, who was
appointed to convey him to the metropolis:--"Well, well, Master
Kingstone, I see the matter how it is framed; but if I had serued God as
diligentlie as I haue done the king, he would not haue giuen me ouer in
my gray haires;[4] but this is the iust reward that I must receiue for
the diligent paines and study yt I haue had to doe him seruice, not
regarding my seruice to God, but onely to satisfie his pleasure; I praie
you haue me most humblie commended vnto his royal maiestie, and beseech
him in my behalfe to call to his princelie remembrance, all matters
proceeding between him and mee, from the beginning of the worlde, and
the progress of the same, and most especialle in his weightie matter,
and then shall his grace's conscience know whether I haue oflended him
or no."[5]

Thus sunk into the grave a man, who was a victim to tyranny, but
to a tyranny which he had himself formed; that he was a person far
enlightened beyond the period in which he lived no one can presume
to doubt. He tended greatly to promote the arts and learning of his
country. His personal character displayed as great a variety of opposite
qualities, as the fortunes to which he had been exposed; his magnanimity
was oftentimes clouded by the greatest meanness, and with an urbanity of
manners, he combined an intolerable degree of pride and arrogance; he
was frank and generous, but his overwhelming ambition greatly tended to
obscure these nobler qualities of his mind, and as he rose, he became
haughty and overbearing. His character has been obscured by the envy and
partiality of his contemporaries, who have generally endeavoured to load
his memory with reproaches. "This Cardinall," says Holinshed, "was