queror, whose ardent temperament was little with respectful admiration, that emperor whom he subsequently had the glory of calling his father. When dying at the early age of thirty-three, Don Juan demanded as a favor that he might lie near his lord and father, and this wish was gratified by the bigoted Philip. "The noble and dear child,' writes the historian, "whom the emperor had brought near him in the last days of his life, and whose interests he was looking to the very evening of his decease with a mysterious solicitude, was placed on his right in the same vault of the Escurial." tence had been passed, was placed on the funeral piles, whose flames devoured sixty-suited for cloisteral seclusion, still visited, three living victims. By the side of these human beings, sacrificed in the name of an all-merciful God, appeared a hundred and thirty-seven others, condemned to lesser penalties, and who, clothed in the ignominious san benits, were reconciled with the church. "These frightful holocausts," says Mignet, "and these degrading reconciliations, were accomplished in the midst of demonstrations of satisfaction and joy on the part of a dominating clergy, a pitiless court, and a fanatic people. The Inquisition showed itself triumphant after having conquered heresy, it mastered, so to say, royalty." Where, it might be asked, are now the abettors, the assistants, and the joyous witnesses of these horrible immolations? The heats of summer in 1558 rather benefited the imperial recluse than otherwise. His mode of living continued nearly the same he eat great quantities of cherries, as also of strawberries with cream, after which he partook of pasties well spiced, of ham, and fried salt fish, things that did not agree with his cutaneous disorders. His doctor, Mathys, was by no means insensible to this fact; he was always complaining of the impracticability of his patient. "The Emperor," he said, "eats much, drinks still more, and will not change his mode of living, although his body is full of peculant humors." Early in July, in this summer, Quijada brought his family to Quacos, and with them was the future conqueror of the Moors and the Turks, the hero of the Alpujaras, of Tunis, and of Lepanto, Don Juan-then known simply as Geronimo-son of Charles V., by Barbe Blumberg, a young and beautiful native of Ratisbon. Don Juan had been in various hands; at first in those of Francisco Massi, a musician, with whom he had passed his early years in shooting birds with a little cross-bow, in preference to attending to the lessons of the village priest. This free and open air life had contributed much to render the child as strong and hardy as he was handsome by descent. His blue eyes and charming sunburnt face were shaded by long fair ringlets. Doña Magdalena de Ulloa, wife of Quijada, had adopted this beautiful child, and spared no pains on his education. No sooner had that noble lady and her precious charge arrived at Quacos, than Charles gave her an audience. Don Juan, who accompanied her, was called her page; but neither monks nor villagers were long in divining the truth. The young con The cuta At The health of the imperial recluse was in the mean time failing more and more. neous eruptionin his legs was accompanied with such intolerable itching that he was induced to use means to repel it, which the good sense of his physician in vain objected to. He used to sleep in the month of August with open doors and windows, and he thus caught a cold, which brought on sore throat and a relapse of gout, such as he had not before experienced at that season of the year. On the 16th of the same month the emperor experienced a fainting fit, which left him very weak, without appetite, and feverish. this time intermittent fevers prevailed in the neighborhood to an unusual degree. On the 28th a change took place, a violent thunderstorm broke upon the mountains, old trees were thrown down, and twenty-seven cows were destroyed by the lightning, but the air was refreshed, and the virulence of the fever abated. Yet it was the very day after this benificent manifestation of Providence that, according to the Hieronymite monks, Charles V. experienced the first attack of the sickness which was destined to lay him low. This malady, if we are to believe the same monks, who have been generally followed by historians, was preceded, if not more or less indirectly induced, by the obsequies which the emperor was led to celebrate whilst still alive: Eight days previously, that is to say, when scarcely free of the gout, and at a time when the eruption on his legs gave him grievous annoyance, in the midst of grave political matters and a very multiplied correspondence, the emperor held, according to the chronicle of the Prior Fray Martin de Angulo, the following conversation with Nicolas Benigne, one of his barberos: "Master Nicolas, do you know what I am thinking about?"— thinking," continued the emperor, "that I have "About what, sire?" replied the barbero. "I am two thousand crowns to spare, and I am calculating how I could spend them on my funeral.”— "Your majesty," replied Bénigne, who seems to have been no courtier," need not trouble yourself upon that score, for if you should die, we could surely see to that."-" You do not understand me," said the emperor; to see one's way clear, it is a very different thing to have the light behind one or to have it in front." The Chronicle of the Prior of Yuste adds, that it was as a sequence to this conversation that the emperor ordered the obsequies of himself and of his relations. Sandoval relates the conversation, but takes no notice of the obsequies; and hence it is probable that he Idid not believe in them. The anonymous monk whose manuscript has been analysed by M. Baklimzen, and the Father Joseph de Siguenza, who probably copied the same in his History of the Order of Saint Jerome, go further in their narratives. According to them, Charles V., enjoying at the time perfect health, and in the best possible spirits, called his confessor, Juan Regla, and said to him: "Father Juan, I feel myself better, much relieved, and without pain; what do you think if I should have the funeral service performed for my father, my mother, and the empress?" The confessor approved of the suggestion; and in consequence the emperor issued orders that everything should be prepared for the said religious ceremonies. The celebration commenced on Monday, the 29th of August, and was continued on the following days. Every day, adds Father Joseph de Siguenza, the emperor attended with a lighted taper, which a page bore before him. Seated at the foot of the altar, he followed out the whole service in a very indiff erently ornamented and poor-looking copy of Les Fleures. These pious commemorations being concluded, the emperor again summoned the confessor, and said to him: Does it not appear to you, Father Juan, that having commemorated the obsequies of ny relatives, I should also perform my own, and see what must soon happen to myself?" On hearing these words, Fray Juan Regla was much moved, the tears came to his eyes, and he said, as well as he was able: "May your majesty live many years, if it so pleases God, and do not let him announce to us his death before the time is come. Those among us who may survive him will acquit themselves of this duty, if our Lord permits it, as they are in duty bound to do." The emperor, who was inspired by higher thoughts, said to him: "Do you not think that it would be profitable to me?' Yes, sire," replied Fray Juan, "much. The pious works which are accomplished by a person whilst alive are of a much greater merit, and possess a much more satisfactory character, than those which are performed for him after death. Happy would it be for us all if we did as much, and if we entertained such good thoughts?" The emperor accordingly ordered that everything should be prepared for the same evening, and that his obsequies should be immediately proceeded with. A catafalque, surrounded by tapers, was accordingly raised in the centre of the great chapel. All the attendants on his majesty came in the garb of deep mourning. The pious monarch, also in mourning and a taper in his hand, came to see himself buried, and to celebrate his funeral obsequies. He offers up prayers to God for that soul to which He had granted so many favors du ring lifetime, so that, arrived at the supreme hour, He should have pity on it. It was a spectacle which caused those who were present to weep, and many would not have wept more had he been really dead. As to himself at the funeral mass, he went and placed his taper in the hands of the priest, as if he had deposited his soul in the hands of God, and which the ancients represented by the same symbol. At noon the following day, the 31st of August, before evening had come on, the emperor sent for his confessor, and expressed the great gratification he felt at having performed these funeral ceremonies; he felt a degree of joy, he said which actually seemed to overflow within him. The same day he sent for the guardian of his jewels, and asked for the portrait of the empress his wife. He remained some moments contemplating it. Then he said to the keeper: "Lock it up, and give me the picture of the Prayer in the Garden of Olives. He looked for a long time at this picture, and his eyes appeared to express outwardly the elevated sentiments which pervaded his mind. He then gave it back, and said, "Bring me the other picture of the Last Judgment." This time the contemplation was longer than ever, and the meditation so deep, that his physician, Mathys, was obliged to warn him not to make himself ill by keeping the mental powers, which direct the operations of the body, so long on the stretch. At this very moment the emperor experienced a sudden shivering fit. Turning to his physician, he said, "I feel unwell." It was the last day of August, at about four in the evening. Mathys examined his pulse, and found that it was slightly affected. He was at once carried into his room, and from that moment the sickness went on always increasing. Here, says M. Mignet, is a perfectly wellarranged scene, in which nothing is wanting. The generality of historians have accepted it from the monks, and some among them have added still more extraordinary details. Not only have they made Charles V. attend his own funeral service, but they have stretched him like a corpse on his bier. But the whole is according to the same authority, more than apocryphal. The nature of the ceremony, he says, the emperor's health, the occupations which took up his time, the thoughts which filled his mind, the testimony of his attendants, which contradict the tales of the monks, and authentic facts, which are in contradiction with the date assigned to this strange proceeding, do not permit the least credit to be attached to it. to his major-domo and his confessor concernOn the 1st of September, Charles V. spoke ing his last testamentary dispositions. He felt that he was at the point of death. For thirty years he had never had fever without having gout. He wished to add a codicil to the will he had made at Brussels the 6th of June, 1554. On the 2nd, the cold fit came on nine hours before its time, and the paroxysm was so violent that it drove the patient out of his senses, and when it was over he remembered nothing that had happened that day. The paroxysm itself was followed by bilious evacuations. The night of the 2nd and 3rd he experienced much anguish, but as he was a good deal exhausted he fell asleep. In the morning, being a little better, he confessed himself and received the holy communion. At about half-past eight Mathys opened a vein in the arm, and obtained about nine or ten ounces of a black, corrupt blood. This relieved the emperor a good deal, who eat a little at eleven, drank some beer and wine and water, and afterwards slept calmly for two hours. As his head was, however, still hot, Mathys opened one of the veins in the hand, much against his patient's wishes, who desired to be more efficiently bled, for he describe himself as feeling full of blood. Having eat a little sugared bread and drank some beer, the same day, the 3d of September, he had another severe paroxysm, which lasted till one in the morning. The paroxysm of the 4th came on three hours earlier than usual, and, although not very violent, still caused him so great a heat and such intolerable thirst, that he drank eight ounces of water with vinegar syrup, and nine ounces of beer, and having got rid of his clothes, he lay with only his shirt and a silken counterpane over him. The crisis finished as usual with the evacuation of bilious and putrid mat ters. In the intervals of the paroxysms the imperial monk was clearing his way to heaven by donations of thirty thousand ducats for the redemption of Christian slaves, as also for poor women and other necessitous persons. He also ordered divine service to be celebrated shortly after his death in all the monasteries and all the parish churches of Spain; he further founded perpetual masses, and in order that more prayers should be said at his tomb, he had prevailed upon the Pope to grant a jubilee, with plenary indulgences, as the inflammation was extending to his mouth, which was dry and painful. The attack of the 8th did not last so long, and was rather less violent, but he was as delirious as ever, and his face became livid. This day Doctor Corneille Baersdop arrived, as also a messenger from the Queen of Hungary. Charles V. experienced his last sensation of gladness on hearing that the queen had acceded to his request, and was about to resume the government of the low Countries. By the 11th of September the interval between the febrile paroxysms had become less, the patient was also becoming weaker and weaker, and his stomach could not even retain a little mutton broth. The same day the grand commander of Alcantara arrived. at Yuste, to no longer quit his dear and glorious master until his death. The 16th the emperor rallied a little, but this was followed by a paroxysm of fearful intensity. The same night the fever came on with an amount of cold hitherto unknown. This was followed by black vomit, after which the hot stage seized upon him with such violence, and lasted so long, that he was twenty-two hours without motion or without speaking a word. He remained, indeed, in this frightful condition all the 17th and until three o'clock on the morning of the 18th. The physicians were apprehensive that he would not be able to stand another paroxysm, yet on the same day the emperor regained his senses, and only remarked that he did not remember what had taken place the previous evening. The eleventh paroxysm occurred on the 19th, at nine o'clock in the morning. The preli minary cold fit was more intense than ever, and as upon the advent of the hot stage the imperial patient fell into the same state of insensibility as on the previous day, the physicians, apprehensive that he would not rally, requested that the extreme unction should be administered. Quijada objected to this for some time, from fear of the depressing effects of the ceremony on his master, who, albeit immovable and silent, might still be sensible as to what was going on; but at nine o'clock the physicians became so seriously alarmed for the fate of their patient, that the majordomo yielded. The confessor, Juan Regla, brought the extreme unction, which Charles On the 6th of September the emperor had V., says his historian, received in the enjoy. a paroxysm which lasted from thirteen to ment of perfect consciousness, in great comfourteen hours, during which he was inces-posure, and with every feeling of devotion. santly delirious. The 7th he was somewhat better, eat some eggs in the evening, and drank same wine and water. Nevertheless VOL. XXXIII.-NO. IV. an attraction. The moribund emperor, however, got through the night of the 19th and that of the 20th, fighting against the accumulation of 32 A little before night set in, the emperor bade Quijada have the consecrated tapers brought from the renowned sanctuary of Notre Dame de Montserrat ready, as also the crucifix and image of the Virgin which the empress had with her at her death, and with which he had already said he intended also to die. A few minutes afterwards his weakness increasing, Quijada summoned the Archbishop of Toledo, in order that he might be with the emperor at his last moment. evils, till he had scarcely any pulse left. | primate, supported by two Dominicans, the Having resumed his wonted self-command, archbishop went on both knees near the it appeared as if by a supreme effort of will, bed of the emperor and kissed his hand. The he preserved his reason clear and the same emperor, who was near his end, looked at pious serenity up to the moment when he him some time without saying anything, and expired. Having confessed himself again, then, after having asked for news of his son, he wished to communicate once more; but he invited him go and repose himself. fearful that he should not have time if he waited till Juan Regla had consecrated the wafer in his own apartment, he bade them fetch the holy sacrament from the great altar of the church. Quijada did not think that force remained to him sufficient for the accomplishment of this supreme act of a dy ing Catholic. "Let your majesty consider," he said, "that it cannot receive nor swallow the host." "I shall be able to do it," replied the emperor, simply and resolutely. Juan Regla, followed by all the monks of the monastery, brought the viaticum in procession; Charles V. received it with the greatest fervor, and said, "Lord, God of truth, who have purchased our salvation by your death, I place my soul in your hands." He after wards heard mass, and when the priest pronounced the comforting words of Christian redemption, "Lamb of God who takest away the sins of the world," he struck his breast with his faltering hand. At the request of the dying monarch the primate read the De Profundis, accompanying each verse with remarks appropriate to the existing conjucture; then, falling on his knees and showing the emperor the crucifix, he spoke those words which were afterwards imputed to him as a crime by the Inquisition : "Here is He who answers for us all; there is no more sin, everything is pardoned!" Many of the monks who were in the imperial chamber, and the Grand-Master of Alcantara, were shocked at these words, which appeared to place in Christ alone the work of salvation acquired to man by the great sacrifice of the cross, without man having aught to obtain by his own merits. When the archbishop had finished, Don Luis de Airla immediately urged Fray Francisco de Villalba to speak to the emperor of death and salvation in more Catholic terms. Before attending to these religious duties, the emperor had given a few minutes to terrestrial cares; at about eight o'clock he had made every one go out of the room except Quijada. The latter, going on his knees to receive his master's last words, Charles V. said to him, "Luis Quijada, I see that I am getting weaker, and that I am going bit by bit; I am thankful to God for it, since it is His will. You will tell the king, my son, he must take care of those who served me up to my death, and that he must not permit strangers to reside in this house." Then for half an hour he spoke in a low voice, very slowly, but with a certain firmness, of his natural son Don Juan, of his daughter the Queen of Bohemia, whom he would have wished had been happier with Maximilian, and About two o'clock in the morning of Wedof all who remained the object of his affec-nesday, the 21st of September, the emperor tions and of his solicitude in the world that he was about to leave. At noon, the same day, Carranza, Archbishop of Toledo, who had distinguished himself by his violent propagandism in England, arrived. Charles V. mistrusted a man who had been denounced by the Inquisitor-General Valdes, but he was anxious to see him, as he was bearer of a message from his son Philip. When Quijada introduced the unorthodox The two doctrines which divided the age were thus once more brought before Charles V., on the point of expiring. He listened with serenity, probably no longer capable of distinguishing between what was granted through the redeeming grace of Christ and what was expected form the moral coöperation of man. felt his strength sinking, and that he was Then JOACHIM ROSSINI was born in 1792, at Pesaro, on the shores of the gulf of Venice. Upon the roll of his ancestors appear the names of two eminent men,-a governor of Ravenna, and the author of a valuable work on Italian statistics,-but his father was only an itinerant musician, who gained his livelihood by performing on a copper trumpet in the streets. The Christian name of this humble Orpheus was Guiseppe. He was a poor enough performer on his instrument, but seems to have been a merry-hearted fellow, who never suffered a care to cloud his brow, and was always happy and contented, provided he had paoli enow in his pocket to pay for one day's food and one night's lodging. In all his wanderings he was accompanied by his wife, who was one of the handsomest women, but, alas! also one of the worst singers, in the Papal States. If ever a coin were thrown to her husband more than would have reached him but for her, he did not owe it to the beauty of her voice, but to that of her person. In this respect she was strangely unlike the majority of her country women, for, taken as a body, the peasant girls of the Romagna have finer voices than any other syrens in the world. But she was also unlike them in one other particular, and in its regard the comparison shows considerably in her favor. She was very economical, and Italian women generally are anything besides. It may be that she never greatly added to her husband's earnings, but she did a better thing in taking that good care of them, owing to which it was that he was enabled, at the age of forty, to purchase a little cottage, and to retire from his profession, possessed of enough to provide for not only his and her future maintenance, but also for the education of their son. As a child, this son of theirs was as beautiful as his mother, who used to speak of him as her little Adonis." Her ambition was that he should become an eminent singer, and as the first step towards its accomplishment, as soon as he had reached the age of eleven, she conducted him to Bologna, and placed him under the care of one Doctor Angelo Tesei, who taught him the first rudiments of music. So unusually rapid was his progress, that within the short space of three months he was qualified to become a chorister, in his capacity as which he earned nearly enough to pay the current expenses of his education. Nor was this all that he effected in it. In addition, by the beauty of his figure and features, his quick intelligence, and the surpassing sweetness of his "divine" soprano voice, -which was as limpid and melodious as we imagine those of the angels, he charmed Bologna, as it had never been charmed before, nor has been since. Old and young admired him with the same enthusiasm, and alike predicted great things of his future. But they spoke of it in their prophecies more as that of a marvellous singer than as a composer's. "He will yet make the greatest singer in all Italy," this was the verdict of the principal prelate of Bologna. And that of the majority of his flock was like it. Two years passed, and Joachim Rossini, now thirteen, knew more than his master. So a new one was found for him, in the person of Stanislas Mattei, one of the ablest contrapuntists that Bologna-a city which has held so many-ever held. He studied under him fifteen months, and then made his debût as a composer, by the publication of a promising cantata, entitled Il Pianto d'Armonia. This little composition won unbounded applause, |