Place (now Whitehall), and he went sorrowfully
up the river, in his barge, to Putney. An
abject man he was, in spite of his pride, for
being overtaken, as he was riding out of that
place towards Esher, by one of the King's
chamberlains who brought him a kind message
and a ring, he alighted from his mule,
took off his cap, and kneeled down in the
dirt. His poor fool, whom in his prosperous
days he had always kept in his palace to
entertain him, cut a far better figure than
he; for, when the Cardinal said to the chamberlain
that he had nothing to send to his
lord the King as a present, but that jester
who was a most excellent one, it took six
strong yeomen to remove the faithful fool
from his master.

The once proud Cardinal was soon further
disgraced, and wrote the most abject letters
to his vile sovereign, who humbled him one
day and encouraged him the next, according
to his humor, until he was at last ordered
to go and reside in his diocese of York. He
said he was too poor, but I don't know how
he made that out, for he took a hundred and
sixty servants with him, and seventy-two
cart-loads of furniture, food, and wine. He
remained in that part of the country for the
best part of a year, and showed himself
so improved by his misfortunes, and was so
mild and so conciliating that he won all
hearts. And indeed, even in his proud
days, he had done some magnificent things
for learning and education. At last, he
was arrested for high treason, and coming
slowly on his journey towards London, got
as far as Leicester. Arriving at Leicester
Abbey after dark and very ill, he said, when
the monks came out at the gate with lighted
torches to receive him, that he had come to
lay his bones among them. He had indeed,
for he was taken to a bed, from which he
never rose again. His last words were
"Had I but served God as diligently as
I have served the King, He would not
have given me over, in my grey hairs. Howbeit,
this is my just reward for my pains
and diligence, not regarding my service to
God, but only my duty to my Prince." The
news of his death was quickly carried to the
King, who was amusing himself with archery
in the garden of the magnificent Palace at
Hampton Court, which that very Wolsey had
presented to him. The greatest emotion his
Royal mind displayed, at the loss of a servant
so faithful and so ruined, was a particular
desire to lay hold of fifteen hundred pounds
which the Cardinal was reported to have
hidden somewhere.

The opinions concerning the divorce, of the
learned doctors and bishops and others, being
at last collected, and being generally in the
King's favor, were forwarded to the Pope,
with an entreaty that he would now grant
it. The unfortunate Pope, who was a
timid man, was half distracted between
his fear of his authority being set aside in
England if he did not do as he was asked, and
his dread of offending the Emperor of Germany,
who was Queen Catherine's nephew. In this
state of mind, he still evaded and did
nothing. Then, THOMAS CROMWELL, who had
been one of Wolsey's faithful attendants and
had remained so, even in his decline, advised
the King to take the matter into
his own hands, and make himself the head
of the whole Church This, the King, by
various artful means, began to do, but he
recompensed the clergy by allowing them to
burn as many people as they pleased, for
holding Luther's opinions. You must understand
that Sir Thomas More, the wise man
who had helped the King with his book, had
been made Chancellor in Wolsey's place. But,
as he was truly attached to the Church as it
was, even in its abuses, he in this state of
things resigned.

Being now quite resolved to get rid of
Queen Catherine, and marry Anne Boleyn
without more ado, the King made Cranmer
Archbishop of Canterbury, and,  directed
Queen Catherine to leave the Court. She
obeyed, but replied that wherever she went,
she was Queen of England still, and would
remain so, to the last. The King then married
Anne Boleyn privately; and the new
Archbishop of Canterbury, within half a year,
declared his marriage with Queen Catherine
void, and crowned Anne Boleyn Queen.

She might have known that no good could
ever come from such wrong, and that the corpulent
brute who had been so faithless and
so cruel to his first wife, could be more faithless
and more cruel to his second. She might
have known that, even when he was in love
with her, he had been a mean and selfish
coward, running away, like a frightened cur,
from her society and her house, when a
dangerous sickness broke out in it, and when
she might easily have taken it and died, as
several of the household did. But, Anne
Boleyn arrived at all this knowledge too late,
and bought it at a dear price. Her bad
marriage with a worse man came to its
natural end. Its natural end was not, as we
shall too soon see, a natural death for her.

        The following Works are now ready.

                                  I

                 THE SECOND VOLUME OF
            A CHILD'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
          BY CHARLES DICKENS. PRICE 3s. 6d.

                                  II

                 THE THIRD VOLUME OF
         THE HOUSEHOLD NARRATIVE OF
                    CURRENT EVENTS.
A Record of the Public Occurrences of the Past Year,

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