and accomplished the common object. Wolsey fell-and died a victim to the combined virulence of his enemies, which found a willing expression through the jealous and vindictive nature of a tyrannical and unjust sovereign.

The question of the amount of Wolsey's share in aiding the Reformation will always be open to dispute. That he did much towards the consummation of the great event, is not to be denied, but the desire of his mind upon the question is a mystery which cannot now be fathomed. The great blow against the Church of Rome being struck by Henry after the death of the Cardinal, some historians attribute all preceding acts against the Catholic religion, as emanating from the King, considering that had he possessed a favourable feeling towards the church, he would have endeavoured to have healed the wounds inflicted upon her by his fallen favourite. But however strongly the King or the Cardinal acted against the Church of Rome, the course of events and the opinions of the people had, rendered an approaching change inevitable. The wandering tribes of the Mendicant orders had long inveighed against some of the most important dogmas of the catholic faith. They repudiated the doctrine of Transubstantiation, and in their travels through the kingdom disseminated their opposing opinions, alike, into the palace of the noble and the hut of the peasant.

The labours of Wicklif many years before had also raised up numberless enemies against the Church of Rome. The enormities practised in monasteries-the immense riches of those establishments, and the overbearing pride of the clergy—all contributed naturally to force on a change; and it is more than probable, if Henry had not broken the mighty power of the Catholic religion, that some act of terrible retribution would have emanated from the people against their spiritual oppressors.

In addition to aiding the reformation of the church, Wolsey also reformed the state of education. Of this great boon to society we have already spoken. He also attempted to amend the system of obtaining medical knowledge, and for that purpose obtained a patent in behalf of Dr. Linacre, authorising him to

found three lectures in the metropolis. The establishment of these lectures it is said, "proved the dawn of judicious medical science and practice."

In whatever light we look upon the life of Wolsey, his faults, although admitted to be enormous, appear more than counterbalanced by his good actions, and the benefits conferred by him on society blot out the personal injuries which it is recorded he inflicted upon obnoxious individuals. Shakspeare, in a particular reference to the Cardinal, through the mouth of the faithful Griffith, in Henry VIII., says

"Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues

We write in water.".

It would appear from this passage the poet was sensible that the spirit of detraction had been more busy with the memory of Wolsey, than the spirit of praise.

Wolsey died at Leicester Abbey, and was buried on Saint Andrew's Day, the 30th Nov., 1530, at six in the morning.

Although the remains of Wolsey's College, are perhaps the most interesting relics, of the possession of which Ipswich can boast, yet there are to be found several buildings and scites within the circumference of the town, highly deserving historical and antiquarian notice. Upon the scite now occupied by the Coach and Horses Inn, in Brook Street, it is believed, formerly stood a princely mansion, belonging to Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. Upon the spot occupied by the Dissenting Chapel in Tacket Street, once existed a place of worship, erected for the use of Judge Milton, brother to John Milton, the poet. In a lane leading from Tavern Street, to the Church of St. Mary

Tower, stands a house formerly the residence of Sir Christopher Hatton, of dancing notoriety, an individual who contrived to jig himself into the good graces of Queen Elizabeth, and thus accomplish his own exaltation to the enjoyment of the Woolsack.

But the great glory of Ipswich, as regards architecture, is the house of Mr. J. Eddowes Sparrowe, situate in the Butter Market. There is perhaps no house in the kingdom, which for its size, is more curiously or quaintly ornamented, or contains within its apartments more than can interest the connoisseur in fine paintings-the student in genealogy—or the lover of antiquity. The architect of the building is unknown, but it was believed to have been built for the residence of Mr. Robert Sparrowe, in 1567, by an individual named Clyatt. It has however been discovered within a few years, that in the year 1570, the building was occupied by George Copping, and by him erected in 1567. This information is contained in the will of Mrs. Joan West, made about that date, widow of William West, who in demising the Waggon Inn, still the next house to Mr. Sparrowe's, describes her own tenement, to stand between G. Copping's house upon the west, and the tenement ofWard, where one Ralph Carrawaye now dwelleth, on the east ; whose north head abutteth on the Fish Market Street, and the south head thereof, on the churchyard of St. Stephen. Added to this evidence, the initials of G. Copping, exist upon the doorway, and over the mantel piece of an inner room of the building; and being accompanied by the figures 1567, are presumed to mark not only the name of the builder, but also the date of the erection of the building.

The exterior of the house is unique. The basement front is finely carved in strings of pendant fruit.

"On the second story there are four bay windows in the frontwhich is about seventy feet next the street; and on the base of each of these windows are respectively sculptured the emblematical figures of Europe, Asia, Africa, and America, with their peculiar attributes. Above the windows is a considerable projection, extending the whole length of the front, forming a

promenade, on the outside, nearly round the house. On the roof are four attic windows, forming so many gable ends, and corresponding with those beneath them. Over these upper windows are figures of Cupids in different attitudes: and the whole exterior of the building is profusely ornamented with animals, fruit, and flowers, with wreaths of roses and other devices relative to the armorial bearings of the Sparrowe family. No chimnies can be seen from the street. On the west end of the house, facing St. Stephen's lane, is represented an uncouth figure of Atlas with a long beard, kneeling on one knee, and supporting the globe on his shoulders. At the corner, a little below this is a pastoral scene; consisting of a figure sitting under a tree surrounded by sheep: another figure, a shepherd, is approaching him, with his hat in one hand, and a crook, which projects from the wall, in the other; he is leading a flock of sheep; and is in the attitude of addressing the person who is seated beneath the wide-spreading beech. It is not, however, easy to determine from the foliage, whether the tree is meant for a beech, an oak, or an elm; but there is little doubt but that the artist, being seized with a fit of classical enthusiasm, intended this effort as an illustration of the discourse between Tityrus and Melibœus in the first eclogue of Virgil."

"We are induced to believe that the ornaments on this house are all emblematical; and we may infer, from this last composition, that the wool trade then flourished in Ipswich, and was, of great importance; and the other decorations in front, are intended to imply that it was carried on with all quarters of the globe."

The interior of this singular structure contains several extremely fine rooms. The dining room is closely panelled in dark oak, carved in a manner which would do honour even to the great genius of Grinling Gibbons. The fire place, furnishing capacious chimney corners, exhibits the finest parts of the carver's skill, in wreaths of vine and pendant fruits. In the centre protrudes a strong bas relief of the arms and crest of the Sparrowe family, and on each side are panels inlaid in fanciful designs,

with wood of a lighter colour than their ground work. A door to the right of the fire place, also exhibits some fine inlaying and carving, and the beams of the room, an unusual circumstance, are as deeply chiselled as any portion of the wainscot. The dimensions of this room are twenty-two feet by twenty-one, and although the apartment is, by reason of a low ceiling and its dark lining, rather sombre to the eye, yet unquestionably in its tout ensemble, it is one of the finest rooms of its size to be found in any house in Ipswich. Upon the first floor, spreads an apartment more fitting for the mansion of a nobleman, than the residence of a private individual. It extends over the whole of the front part of the house. The ceiling is traversed by heavy oak beams, and divided into compartments ornamented by ponderous wreaths of fruit. The corners are filled with shields, containing the crests of the family. The dimensions of the room are forty-six feet by twenty-one feet. In this apartment hang several old paintings, to one of which is attached a tradition that the individual whom it represents was, for his extreme cruelty to the Protestants, consumed alive by vermin. The manner in which this extraordinary retributive death is believed to have taken place, is not known, nor indeed do those ancient members of the family who were the last recipients of the related miracle, profess to be acquainted with the exceeding crimes which even roused the creeping things of the earth to make war against and devour the persecutor. The name of this obnoxious individual is Gosnall. If we may be allowed to judge of his character, by the benign repose thrown by the painter into the countenance of this monstrous tradional offender, history has much defamed him. The resemblance is that of a quiet old man, more desirous of enjoying silence and repose in his descent to the grave, than counselling and conducting persecution against any sect, as an amusement of his decli ning years. He appears habited in a blue dress, sitting close to his figure. Next to this picture hangs a singular portrait of James I., painted in the first year of his reign. The extremes of meanness, cunning, and duplicity appear to mingle in the