carrying out of the principle is impossible: but we will confine ourselves to a few records of history, which points with moveless finger to the fact, that liberty of thought to all men on every subject is a phantom exhaled from the marshes of a diseased imagination,-the vanity of vanities,-a dream.

The impediments, thrown with whatever motives, in the way of a tyrant's lust, severed England from the obedience of Rome; and the principle of liberty was proclaimed. The king proceeded to judge for himself; and some others thought that they might perhaps venture to do so too: but they were speedily undeceived. How could the lamb hope to escape from the wolf? Woe to the man who should impugn his assumption of supremacy, or question the belief to which he chose to adhere. Such was the fiat: and for the disobedient (be he who he might) there was quick trial, and short shrift, and the headsman waiting on Tower-hill.

So was it in England: and while Henry doomed to the gibbet or the block all who fell into his double snare, Luther held forth on the right of private judgment in the halls of Wittenberg: and his practice too was not less inconsistent with his preaching. The poor people naturally concluded that the privilege which Luther claimed for all mankind must be theirs also, as they fancied themselves to come under that denomination: and they also were mistaken. The means which they adopted were a little peculiar; and Luther, who had furnished them with their war cry, proceeded to exercise the office of peacemaker, by calling on all the citizens of the empire to strangle, to stab them, secretly and openly, as they can, as one would kill a 'mad dog.'

The Anabaptists in Switzerland presumed to differ from the views of Zuingli. Their mode of showing their differences was a little strange: and Zuingli caused several of them to be drowned. It is easy of course to utter the names of treason, sedition, violence, corruption of morals: but to assert that the gist of the matter in all these cases was not the wish to have their own way in matters of religion, would be the grossest folly. It was not indeed to be expected that the maintainers of private judgment would punish others for a crime called by that name; and to the world's end they will never experience much difficulty in finding another. There is absolutely no middle ground between the total denial of the principle and the most unbounded and abominable licence. Upholding the principle of free choice, none can attempt to suppress the latter except at the cost of a wretched and contemptible inconsistency.

Like her father, Elizabeth, while judging for herself, adopted the maxim cujus regio, ejus religio,' agreed upon by the

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German princes, Protestant and Catholic alike: and she proceeded to punish, as traitors, all who presumed to deviate from what she had herself decreed. To this effect she established the Court of High Commission, for the punishment of all offences against the acts of Supremacy and Uniformity. The end was to be attained by the oaths of twelve good and lawful men, as also by witnesses, and all other means and ways' the Commissioners could devise.' Well might the Protestant historian add, it might, at least, have been lawful means and ways." It was of no avail for delinquents, of either kind, to protest, in the most solemn manner, that their object was entirely and solely religious. Their religion itself involved treason, and that was enough: and the maintainers of transubstantiation met at Tyburn the death which its impugners had undergone under Henry VIII., while, at less frequent intervals, an Anabaptist was boiled in Smithfield.

The head sickens and the heart is faint, as the memory recurs to the detestable and enormous tyranny which has desolated the world under the specious mockery of a visionary and impossible principle. And no less does it weigh down the soul, when it thinks on the torture, the oppression, and the slaughter which has been wreaked upon mankind in the name of that kingdom which is not of this world.

It was amidst political and religious convulsion that the life of Charles V. reached its close. With the former, indeed, he was only in part acquainted. The meagre results of the victories of St. Quentin and of Gravelines, and the conduct of affairs in Italy, had greatly vexed and irritated him. More real disasters speedily followed, but he seemed, to those around him, too weak to bear the tidings: and the despatches which told of the loss of Oran and the destruction of the Spanish army, lay unread on his table at the time of his death. But of the religious movements he was fully aware, and heartily approved of all that was done for the suppression of heresy.

The summer of 1558 was wearing on, and his disease was gaining ground. The increase of gout, according to Robertson, was accompanied by a corresponding increase of bodily mortification, approaching the utmost rigour of monastic austerity:' and the natural distrustfulness and timorous solicitude of superstition prompted him to aim at something extraordinary-at some new and singular act of piety, that would display his ⚫ zeal and merit the favour of Heaven.' This was the celebration of his own obsequies, an act,' according to the same historian, as 'wild and uncommon as any that superstition ever suggested to ' a weak and disordered mind.' There is little more of justice

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1 Ranke, History of the Popes, vol. i. p. 513. (Bohn.)

in this last observation than there is of truth in the former.

He was punctual, exact, and devout in his attendance on the holy offices at Yuste, but of increased asceticism there is little indication. On the contrary, only a few days before his last illness, we find one of his physicians lamenting the richness of his diet, and his obstinacy in adhering to it. That he did celebrate his obsequies, there is little doubt, but there is as little reason in ascribing to the act any extraordinary measure of wildness. He was accustomed to services relating to the dead, and the sacrifice of the Mass was constantly offered up at Yuste in behalf of his deceased relatives. He, therefore, ordered that that should be done on his own behalf before his death, which he had constantly done for departed friends. The preparations were made,-

'The high altar, the catafalque, and the whole church shone with a blaze of wax lights; the friars were all in their places at the altars and in the choir, and the household of the Emperor attended in deep mourning. The pious monarch himself was there attired in sable weeds, and bearing a taper, to see himself interred and to celebrate his own obsequies. While the solemn Mass for the dead was sung, he came forward and gave his taper to the officiating priest, in token of his desire to yield his soul into the hand of his Maker. High above, over the kneeling throng and the gorgeous vestments, the flowers, the curling incense, and the glittering altar, the same idea shone forth in that splendid canvas whereon Titian had pictured Charles, kneeling on the threshold of the heavenly mansions, prepared for the blessed.'-P. 195.

Three weeks more and he was numbered with the dead. The shortness of the interval has induced most of his historians to ascribe the result immediately to this event, but the discrepancies of the several narratives might almost excite a smile. Charles, it is supposed, entered the chapel in his shroud, and was solemnly laid in his coffin, and there left to himself after the service was ended. Robertson supposes that the fever which ensued, was owing either to the fatiguing length of the ceremony, or the impression which the image of death left on his mind." Archdeacon Coxe thinks that it was produced by agitation of mind, wrought up to frenzy by the tremendous ideas of death and eternity.' Menzel, on the other hand, attributes it to the dampness of the coffin, in which he lay during the ceremony." Strange that better seasoned timber could not have been obtained from the ancient woods of Yuste.

The evening of his days was indeed come, and the close is still and quiet, full of interest, as the end of such a life must be, and not without its claim on warmer and deeper sympathies. On the day of his obsequies, he sat long basking in the afternoon sunshine. A pain in the head made him retreat, but the next

Menzel's History of Germany, ch. excviii.

day he said, that the funeral service of the day before had done him good.' The sun was again shining brightly, and he went into his open gallery.

'As he sat there, he sent for a portrait of the Empress, and hung for some time, lost in thought, over the gentle face, which, with its blue eyes, auburn hair, and pensive beauty, somewhat resembled the noble countenance of that other Isabella, the great Queen of Castille. He next called for a picture of Our Lord Praying in the Garden, and, then, for a sketch of the Last Judgment, by Titian. Having looked his last upon the image of the wife of his youth, it seemed as if he were now bidding farewell, in the contemplation of these other favourite pictures, to the noble art which he had loved with a love which cares, and years, and sickness could not quench, and that will ever be remembered with his better fame.'-P. 196.

He had fallen into a long reverie, from which his physician thought it right to rouse him. He complained of illness; the pulse indicated fever. Again the afternoon sun was shining over the great walnut-tree full into the gallery. From this pleasant spot, filled with the fragrance of the garden and the murmur of the fountain, and bright with glimpses of the golden Vera, they carried him to the gloomy chamber of his sleepless 'nights, and laid him on the bed from which he was to rise no more.' (P. 197.)

For twenty days the struggle continued, and then he sank rapidly. Whenever his illness permitted him, he was constant in devotion, and listened to passages from Holy Writ, asking oftenest for the Psalm Domine, refugium factus es nobis.' Extreme unction was administered on the 19th, but on the 20th he again asked for the Holy Eucharist. In spite of his extreme 'weakness, he followed all the responses as usual, and repeated 'with much fervour the whole verse, "In manus tuas, Domine, commendo spiritum meum; redemisti nos, Domine Deus veri'tatis;" and he afterwards remained kneeling in his bed for some time, and uttering ejaculations in praise of the Blessed 'Sacrament.'

It was nearly two o'clock on the morning of the 21st of September, and an anxious group was gathered round the bed of the dying man. Among them stood Don John of Austria,-the future conqueror at Lepanto, and probable victim of Philip's jealousy, and Archbishop Carranza, whom the implacable Valdez hunted afterwards from his diocese to a dungeon. Villalva, the preacher, spoke to him of his coming change. At last the Emperor interposed, saying, "The time is come, bring 'me the candles and the crucifix." These were cherished relics 'which he had long kept in reserve for this supreme hour. The one was a taper from Our Lady's shrine at Montserrat, the other ' a crucifix of beautiful workmanship, which had been taken from 'the dead hand of his wife at Toledo ... He received

.......

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'them eagerly from the Archbishop, and taking one in each hand, 'for some moments he silently contemplated the figure of the Saviour, and then clasped it to his bosom. Those who stood 'nearest to the bed now heard him say quickly, as if replying to 'a call, Ya, voy Señor '-' Now, Lord, I go." As his strength 'failed, his fingers relaxed their hold of the crucifix, which the 'Primate therefore took and held up before him. A few moments ' of death-wrestle between soul and body followed, after which, ' with his eyes fixed on the cross, and with a voice loud enough 'to be heard outside the room, he cried, "Ay, Jesus," and 'expired.-P. 208.

Elaborate summaries of individual character seem at best of questionable value. The clearest impression, and the truest, will be gained by a knowledge of men's words and actions, and on these scarcely two men will be found to pronounce a judgment precisely similar in every respect. The verdict of Menzel is brief and conclusive: Charles, although dexterous in the conduct of petty intrigues, was entirely devoid of depth of intellect, and ever misunderstood his age." Few, however, will be disposed to subscribe to an opinion so singular. Mr. Stirling's concluding sketch is very graphic and lifelike; but the Emperor's character in its leading outlines, has rarely been otherwise than faithfully delineated. The powers of mind, which fitted him for preeminence alike in the council and on the field, were long in developing themselves. An unresisting pliability, which bore some resemblance to weakness, gave no token of the deep reserve, and keen sagacity, and inflexible resolution of his later years. None knew better how to apportion means to ends; none had greater insight into personal character, and greater wisdom in selecting, for a given work, the man who was most fitted to accomplish it. But as the uncommon powers of his mind unfolded themselves slowly, so was the decay of his body premature; and the most celebrated cavalier of his age could only ramble slowly on foot through the woods of Yuste, when the vigour of most men is scarcely on the wane.

His devotion and punctual attendance on the daily offices has been already noted; how far, are we to conclude, did his religion act upon his heart? Bound as we are to characterise every act by its fitting name, these are questions on which we should hesitate, perhaps, to pronounce a sentence. Still, inordinate indulgence of appetite can scarcely be palliated into a mere foible; but on points like this we must bear in mind the apostle's caution, To his own master each man standeth or falleth.' A graver subject is his cooperation in the religious persecutions

1 History of Germany, ch. excviii.