His foreign policy was nearly confined to the conduct of two wars: the one to maintain Navarre, which had been usurped by Ferdinand, against the legitimate monarch John d’Albret; the other, an expedition against the pirate Barbarossa, King of Algiers, who inflicted a signal and entire discomfiture on the invading army.

In the administration of the kingdom Ximenes displayed the same inflexible love of justice, and the same economy, integrity, and order, as in the management of his own diocese of Toledo; and he brought the finances into so flourishing a state, that after discharging the crown debts, and placing the military establishment in a more than commonly efficient state, he was enabled to remit large sums of money to the young king in Flanders. And he had something of a title to Charles’s more immediate and personal gratitude, for having used with success his own overpowering influence to obtain the recognition of that prince as king of Castile during the lifetime of his insane mother, against the usage of the realm, although he had remonstrated with earnestness against pressing the indecorous and unfilial claim. All these services however were thrown into the shade by one thing. Ximenes hated the Flemish ministers whom Charles sent into Spain, and who disgraced their high station, and corrupted the country by open and abandoned venality. He never ceased to remonstrate against these abuses, and to importune Charles to visit his Spanish dominions; and the Flemish favourites saw that their own ruin was certain if the regent once gained an ascendance over the king’s mind. They retarded therefore the departure of the latter as much as possible, and succeeded in prejudicing him against his most sincere and judicious friend and servant. Convinced at last of the necessity for his presence, Charles set out for Spain, and landed in the province of Asturias, September 13, 1517. The Cardinal hastened towards the coast to meet him, but was stopped at Bos Equillos by a severe illness, which, as was very usual in past times, was imputed to poison. He wrote to the king, entreating him to dismiss the train of foreigners by whom he was attended, and earnestly soliciting a personal interview, which, from the pressure of illness, he was unable himself to seek. This favour was not granted, and he was vexed and harassed by a series of petty slights. At the point of death he received a letter of dismissal couched in civil but cold terms, permitting him to return to his diocese, and repose from his labours. Whether the Cardinal retained his faculties so as to be aware of this final mark of ingratitude is doubtful; but his end was assuredly hastened by mortification at the evil return made for his faithful service. He died a few hours after receiving the dismissal in question, November 8, 1517.

Though austere in temper, Ximenes was not cruel, and in civil matters had great reluctance to the shedding of blood. Yet in eleven years, as Grand Inquisitor, he burnt at the stake 2500 persons, for the glory of God and the good of the sufferer’s souls. Such miserable self-delusion in so great and good a man ought to teach humility, as well as to inspire abhorrence.

Our sketch has necessarily been personal rather than historical: a fuller account of the public life of Ximenes will be found in Robertson’s ‘Charles V.,’ as well as in the biographies of Flechier, Marsollier, and others. Barrett’s ‘Life of Ximenes’ appears to be a compressed translation from the Life by Flechier. We conclude with the short and comprehensive praise of Leibnitz, who said, that “If great men could be bought, Spain would have cheaply purchased such a minister by the sacrifice of one of her kingdoms.”

Engraved by J. Thomson.
ADDISON.
From a Picture copied by J. Thurston in the Possession of the Publisher.
Under the Superintendence of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge
London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street.

ADDISON.

Joseph Addison, the second of the six children of Dr. Launcelot Addison and Jane Gulstone, was born May 1, 1672, at Milston in Wiltshire. The feebleness of his infancy seems to have impaired his spirit as a boy; for, in the General Dictionary, Dr. Birch relates, that when at school in the country, he was so afraid of punishment as to have absconded, lodging in a hollow tree in the fields, till a hue and cry restored him to his parents. At the Charter-House was formed that friendship between him and Sir Richard Steele, which led to their close alliance in a new kind of literary undertaking. Addison could not but feel his own superiority; and Spence intimates, that the one was too fond of displaying, and the other too servile in acknowledging it. Steele occasionally availed himself not only of his friend’s pen, but of his purse. Johnson has given currency to the story, that Addison enforced the repayment of 100l. by an execution, and the fact is said to have been related by Steele himself, with tears in his eyes. Hooke, the Roman historian, professed to have received it from Pope. The biographer sarcastically remarks, that the borrower probably had not much purpose of repayment; but the lender, who “seems to have had other notions of 100l., grew impatient of delay.” Now no date is assigned to this anecdote; and Addison’s finances were so low during the greater part of his life, that he might have suffered greatly by the disappointment; nor does it detract from the character of a man in narrow circumstances, that he entertains serious notions of 100l.

In 1687 Addison was entered at Queen’s College, Oxford, where he took the degree of M.A., February 14, 1693. One of his early poetical attempts was ‘An Account of the greatest English Poets, inscribed to H. S.;’ initials which have been currently assigned to Dr. Henry Sacheverell, who is indebted, for no enviable place in history, to his trial and its consequences. But a college friend of Addison has left it on record, that the initials were the property of a gentleman bearing the same name, who died young, after having shown some promise in writing a history of the Isle of Man, and who bequeathed his papers to Addison, containing, among other things, the plan of a tragedy 011 the death of Socrates, which the legatee had some thoughts of working up himself. In this poem the writer tells his friend that Spenser can no longer charm an understanding age. Now the judgment of the present age disclaims this confident decision; nor would it be worth recording, but for Spence’s assertion, that the critic had never read the ‘Faery Queene,’ when he drew its character. In after life he spoke of his own poem as a “poor thing;” but his general level as a versifier was not high. The ‘Campaign’ is his masterpiece in rhyme.