ions, and a disposition to foreign.
commotions and war would have constituted additional virtues, had he
happened to possess them. Those who were most disposed to think favorably
of him, remembered that there was a time when even Charles the Fifth was
thought weak and indolent, and were willing to ascribe Philip's pacific
disposition to his habitual cholic and side-ache, and to his father's
inordinate care for him in youth. They even looked forward to the time
when he should blaze forth to the world as a conqueror and a hero. These,
however, were views entertained by but few; the general and the correct
opinion, as it proved, being, that Philip hated war, would never
certainly acquire any personal distinction in the field, and when engaged
in hostilities would be apt to gather his laurels at the hands of his
generals, rather than with his own sword. He was believed to be the
reverse of the Emperor. Charles sought great enterprises, Philip would
avoid them. The Emperor never recoiled before threats; the son was
reserved, cautious, suspicious of all men, and capable of sacrificing a
realm from hesitation and timidity. The father had a genius for action,
the son a predilection for repose. Charles took "all men's opinions, but
reserved his judgment," and acted on it, when matured, with irresistible
energy; Philip was led by others, was vacillating in forming decisions,
and irresolute in executing them when formed.

Philip, then, was not considered, in that warlike age, as likely to shine
as a warrior. His mental capacity, in general, was likewise not very
highly esteemed. His talents were, in truth, very much below mediocrity.
His mind was incredibly small. A petty passion for contemptible details
characterized him from his youth, and, as long as he lived, he could
neither learn to generalize, nor understand that one man, however
diligent, could not be minutely acquainted with all the public and
private affairs of fifty millions of other men. He was a glutton of work.
He was born to write despatches, and to scrawl comments upon those which
he received.

[The character of these apostilles, always confused, wordy and
awkward, was sometimes very ludicrous; nor did it improve after his
thirty or forty years' daily practice in making them. Thus, when he
received a letter from France in 1589, narrating the assassination
of Henry III., and stating that "the manner in which he had been
killed was that a Jacobin m