that dismal epoch, avenged more deeply, perhaps, than
the jester thought, the previous misfortunes of France.
The Grand Turk, too, Solyman the Magnificent, possessed
most of Hungary, and held at that moment a fleet ready
to sail against Naples, in co-operation with the Pope
and France. Thus the Infidel, the Protestant,
and the Holy Church were all combined together to
crush him. Towards all the great powers of the
earth, he stood not in the attitude of a conqueror,
but of a disappointed, baffled, defeated potentate.
Moreover, he had been foiled long before in his earnest
attempts to secure the imperial throne for Philip.
Ferdinand and Maximilian had both stoutly resisted
his arguments and his blandishments. The father
had represented the slender patrimony of their branch
of the family, compared with the enormous heritage
of Philip; who, being after all, but a man, and endowed
with finite powers, might sink under so great a pressure
of empire as his father wished to provide for him.
Maximilian, also, assured his uncle that he had as
good an appetite for the crown as Philip, and could
digest the dignity quite as easily. The son,
too, for whom the Emperor was thus solicitous, had
already, before the abdication, repaid his affection
with ingratitude. He had turned out all his father’s
old officials in Milan, and had refused to visit him
at Brussels, till assured as to the amount of ceremonial
respect which the new-made king was to receive at the
hands of his father.
Had the Emperor continued to live and reign, he would
have found himself likewise engaged in mortal combat
with that great religious movement in the Netherlands,
which he would not have been able many years longer
to suppress, and which he left as a legacy of blood
and fire to his successor. Born in the same year
with his century, Charles was a decrepit, exhausted
man at fifty-five, while that glorious age, in which
humanity was to burst forever the cerements in which
it had so long been buried, was but awakening to a
consciousness of its strength.
Disappointed in his schemes, broken in his fortunes,
with income anticipated, estates mortgaged, all his
affairs in confusion; failing in mental powers, and
with a constitution hopelessly shattered; it was time
for him to retire. He showed his keenness in recognizing
the fact that neither his power nor his glory would
be increased, should he lag superfluous on the stage
where mortification instead of applause was likely
to be his portion. His frame was indeed but a
wreck. Forty years of unexampled gluttony had
done their work. He was a victim to gout, asthma,
dyspepsia, gravel. He was crippled in the neck,
arms, knees, and hands. He was troubled with
chronic cutaneous eruptions. His appetite remained,
while his stomach, unable longer to perform the task
still imposed upon it, occasioned him constant suffering.
Physiologists, who know how important a part this
organ plays in the affairs of life, will perhaps see