e light in which Spain shines in this, which is always accounted
her most glorious period, was that of Discovery and Conquest and the
enormous wealth coming therefrom; all of which was bestowed by that
shabby adventurer and suppliant at the Alhambra, in whom Isabella
alone believed, and who, after enriching Spain beyond its wildest
expectations, was permitted to die in poverty and neglect at
Valladolid in 1506! History has written its verdict: imperishable
renown to Columbus, Balboa, Magellan, and the navigators who dared
such perils and won so much; and eternal infamy to the men who planted
a bloodstained Cross in those distant lands. The history of the West
Indies, of Mexico, and Peru is unmatched for cruelty in the annals of
the world; and Isabella's is the only voice that was ever raised in
defense of the gentle, helpless race which was found in those lands.

The Reformation, which had commenced in Germany with the reign of
Charles V., had assumed enormous proportions. Charles, who was a bigot
with "heart as hard as hammered iron," was using with unsparing hand
the Inquisition, that engine of cruelty created by his grandmother.
And while his captains, the "conquistadors," were burning and
torturing in the West, he was burning and torturing in the East.
His entire reign was occupied in a struggle with his ambitious rival
Francis I., and another and vain struggle with the followers of
Luther.

He had married Isabel, the daughter of the King of Portugal. Philip,
his son and heir, was born in 1527. The desire of his heart was to
secure for this son the succession to the imperial throne of Germany.
To this the electors would not consent. He was defeated in the two
objects dearest to his heart: the power to bequeath this imperial
possession to Philip, and the destruction of Protestantism. So this
most powerful sovereign since the day of Charlemagne felt himself
ill-used by Fate. Weary and sick at heart, in the year 1556 he
abdicated in favor of Philip. The Netherlands was his own to bestow
upon his son, as that was an inheritance from his father, the
Archduke of Austria. So the fate of Philip does not seem to us so very
heart-breaking, as, upon the abdication of his father, he was King
of Spain, of Naples, and of Sicily; Duke of Milan; Lord of the
Netherlands and of the Indies, and of a vast portion of the American
continent stretching from the Atlantic to the Pacific!

Such was the inheritance left to his son by the d