aspirations, we find him accepting of commands offered chiefly for the sake of securing his hardy mountaineers.

The abject position in which Italy was left after the wars of Clement VII. has already been noticed. Her internal conflicts were at an end. Of those states whose struggles for independence or for mastery had during long ages convulsed her, the lesser had been absorbed by the more powerful, and these in their turn had bowed to foreign dominion or foreign influence. She was tranquillised but trodden down, pacified but prostrate. Her history became but a series of episodes in the annals of ultramontane nations, on whom her few remaining princes and commonwealths grew into dependent satellites. Even the popes, no longer arbiters of European policy, sought a reflected consequence by attaching themselves to the interests of France, Spain, or the Empire. Nor were they losers by the change to the same degree as other Peninsular powers. The papacy was indeed shorn in part of its temporal lustre. It no longer directed the diplomacy of Christendom, nor did it waste its resources upon bloody and bootless campaigns. But as its energies were gradually weaned from general politics, they became more concentrated upon ecclesiastical affairs. The small speck on the horizon towards which Leo X. had scarcely directed a look or an anxiety, was now rapidly overspreading the sky, and already excluded the rays of Catholicism from a large portion of Central Europe. His successors, threatened with the loss of spiritual as well as temporal ascendancy, had the wisdom to make a stand for maintenance of the former, leaving the latter to its fate. The spirit of popery from aggressive became conservative; its military tactics gave place to theological weapons. It was by Paul III. that a vigorous opposition was first made to the Reformation, the primary steps taken towards that Catholic reaction, which Paul IV. and Pius V. afterwards so successfully promoted, as not only to check the rapid progress of Protestantism, but to

regain a portion of the lost ground. Seconding the zeal of the old monastic orders, which had been revived in the Theatins, he, in 1540, recruited to it the cold clear-sighted cunning of the Jesuits. Two years afterwards he re-established the Inquisition, and in 1545 opened the Council of Trent, whose sittings were not finally closed until eighteen years later, when it had completed that bulwark which still constitutes a stronghold of the Romish church. Extirpation of heresy henceforward became the pervading principle of the papacy, and the engrossing dogma of its zealots; the object for which councils deliberated, pontiffs admonished, legates intrigued. For an end so sanctified no means were accounted base. When argument failed threats were at hand. From reason an appeal lay to the rack. Thus was the wavering power of the Keys restored or confirmed over much of Europe, and an alliance was effected between political and spiritual despotism for their mutual maintenance and common defence. The success which crowned these new efforts far exceeded any that mere mundane aims had ever attained. The re-influx of Catholicism was in some instances more signal, as it was more inexplicable, than had been the recent spread of the Reformation. Although fatal to freedom of thought, its influence proved highly favourable to morals. The revival of religion was attended with a happy reformation of manners, after examples emanating from high places. The sins, or at least the scenes, that had disgraced the Borgian and Medicean courts no longer met the eye, but were replaced by a semblance of ascetic virtue. The new religious orders, being of more rigid rule, tended by precept and example to restore discipline, and to purify, at least externally, the cup and the platter. Prelatic luxury was curtailed, brazen vice retired from public view, and the free exercise of papal nepotism was finally restrained by Pius V., who, in 1567, prohibited the alienation by his successors of church property or jurisdictions. But in these themes our narrative has no part. The battles of orthodoxy were chiefly fought beyond the Alps; the reformed

morality of the papal court was exampled in its own capital: in neither had Urbino any near interest.

Guidobaldo's condotta from the Signory being renewed in 1546 upon more favourable terms, (namely, 15,000 scudi of pay for his company, and 5000 of piatto for himself,) he was invested about midsummer, by an imposing ceremonial pompously described in the letter of an eye-witness among the archives of Urbino. His jewelled cap and diamond collar are mentioned as superb, and his sword is valued at 700 scudi. After high mass in St. Mark's, the great standard being unfurled and supported by three bearers, and the baton of wrought silver placed in his hands, the Doge thus addressed him:-"Lord Duke, we present to your Excellency this standard of our St. Mark the Evangelist, in the wonted form, and in token of supremacy; and we pray the Lord our God that it tend to the weal and service of all Christendom, but especially to the defence of this state. We give it to your Excellency, confiding in your loyalty and prudence, well assured that you will use it with courage and faith conformable to your deserts. And we hand to your Excellency the baton, therewith designing you head and governor of our forces, and transferring to you the obedience of all our military: it is our will that you be obeyed, honoured, and respected by our several condottieri and soldiery, as representing our Signory itself. May it please the Divine Majesty that all be well ordered, to the well-being and furtherance of the Christian community, and of this our serene Republic." The Duke replied, "I most willingly accept, most Serene Prince, the distinction granted me by your Serenity, and with the sure hope of maintaining the good opinion you repose in me, which shall be nowise disappointed. I shall ever pray our Lord God graciously to vouchsafe me an early occasion of honourably serving your serene government, that I may thereby prove my good will. And I feel sure that your Serenity will have cause to be well satisfied at giving me this rank, which, without reserve of life or fortune, like one aware of his obliga

tion to your Serenity, it will be my care so to hold as to augment my claims upon your favour." The function being over, the Duke was escorted by an imposing military pageant to his palace, where a splendid banquet was set out, of which, however, the jealous regulations of the Republic did not permit her officials to partake.

The court having gone to spend Christmas of 1547 in the mild climate of Fossombrone, the Duke, in January, 1548, again repaired to Venice, intending to return home for carnival. On the frontier he was met by news of his consort's serious illness, and immediately sent expresses to summon from Padua and Ferrara, Frigimiliza and Brasavolo, two famous physicians. Under them and her own doctors, the Duchess rallied for a time, but died on the 17th of February," a very religious, charitable, and lettered lady, and a great loss to the state." Her body was borne by torchlight to Urbino with the usual solemnities, and, after lying in state, was entombed in Santa Chiara on the 19th. The funeral service was performed at Urbino the 24th of March, with due pomp, and a ceremonial preserved by Tondini. The procession consisted of the Duchess's household, twenty-two in number, with thirty-nine of the Duke's; Guidobaldo and his brother; the ambassadors of five friendly states; twenty-two principal nobility of the duchy; forty captains; the municipality of Urbino, with seventy leading citizens; deputies from thirty-six other towns; in all, about three hundred and sixty persons. The obsequies were celebrated in the cathedral, which was illuminated by a hundred and eighty-six wax lights of four pounds each, and above two hundred torches. The funeral oration was pronounced by Sperone Speroni, and is published among his works.

Although, in somewhat startling contrast to these details of death, we here introduce a letter written by the Duchess,

which may interest our lady readers. It is addressed to Marchetti, her steward of the household, then at Venice, and is printed in his life by Tondini:

"Master Steward, our well-beloved,

"This is to inform you that, on your return with his Excellency our Lord and Consort, you must by all means bring as much of the finest and most beautiful scarlet serge, such as is made on purpose for the cardinals, as may suffice to make us a petticoat, taking care that it be at once handsome, good, and distingué. You can ascertain the necessary quantity. Here they tell us that if the stuff be two braccie [a yard and quarter] wide, at least eight braccie will be required, and more if narrower, say nine or ten. See that you get full measure, and let the quantity be ample rather than deficient, so that we may not have to mar it for want of cloth. And if you cannot find such serge, bring some beautiful, good, and thin Venice cloth, being careful that it be light in texture, and that the colour be of the most bright and lively scarlet that can be found. Use all diligence that we be well suited and satisfied, if you would do us a grateful service. Bring also some of those books and rosettes, as they are called, which are commonly made there of thin white wax tapers; and so good health to you. From Fossombrone, the 6th of October, 1541.

"JULIA DUCHESS OF URBINO."

The Duchess had given birth to a son in 1544, but was survived only by a daughter Virginia: her marriage had been interested, and her lord lost no time in contracting another from similar motives, on the excuse of requiring a male heir. In August he went to kiss the Pope's feet at Rome, on occasion of negotiating a new matrimonial alliance with his granddaughter, Vittoria Farnese. On the 30th he returned home, and next month again met his Holiness at Perugia. The nuptials were interrupted by the assassination of the bride's father, Duke Pier-Luigi, whose son had supplanted Guidobaldo at Camerino, and whose tyranny in his new state of Parma sharpened the daggers of his outraged nobles. The ceremony, however, took place on the 30th of January, 1548, when