ed to
possess the power of ubiquity.

The consciousness of his own strength roused to a flame the spark of
ambition which had hitherto slept in his bosom. His schemes were so
vast, that it was a common opinion he aspired to universal monarchy.
Like his grandfather, Ferdinand, and his own son, Philip, he threw over
his schemes the cloak of religion. Or, to deal with him more fairly,
religious principle probably combined with personal policy to determine
his career. He seemed always ready to do battle for the Cross. He
affected to identify the cause of Spain with the cause of Christendom.
He marched against the Turks, and stayed the tide of Ottoman inroad in
Hungary. He marched against the Protestants, and discomfited their
armies in the heart of Germany. He crossed the Mediterranean, and
humbled the Crescent at Algiers. He threw himself on the honor of
Francis, and travelled through France to take vengeance on the rebels of
Flanders. He twice entered France as an enemy, and marched up to the
gates of Paris. Instead of the modest legend on his maiden shield; he
now assumed the proud motto, "_Plus ultra_;" and he vindicated his right
to it, by sending his fleets across the ocean, and by planting the
banner of Castile on the distant shores of the Pacific. In these
enterprises he was generally successful. His success led him to rely
still more on himself. "Myself and the lucky moment," was his favorite
saying. The "star of Austria," was still a proverb. It was not till the
evening of life that he complained of the fickleness of fortune; that
his star, as it descended to the horizon, was obscured by clouds and
darkness.

Thus Charles's nerves were kept in a state of perpetual excitement. No
wonder that his health should have sunk under it; like a plant forced by
extraordinary stimulants to an unnatural production at the expense of
its own vitality.

His habits were not all of them the most conducive to health. He slept
usually only four hours; too short a time to repair the waste caused by
incessant toil.[350] His phlegmatic temperament did not incline him to
excess. Yet there was one excess of which he was guilty,--the indulgence
of his appetite to a degree most pernicious to his health. A Venetian
contemporary tells us, that, before rising in the morning, potted capon
was usually served to him, dressed with sugar, milk, and spices. At noon
he dined on a variety of dishes. Soon after vespers he took another
meal; and lat