emulate, perhaps to equal his fame. These letters were industriously shown to Solyman, at the seasons when it was known that they would make the deepest impression. Every expression in recommendation of his son wounded him to the heart; he suspected his principal officers to be ready to favour the most desperate attempts of a prince they were so fond of praising, and fancying that he saw them already assaulting his throne with rebellious arms, he determined while it was yet in his power, to anticipate the blow, and to secure his own safety by his son's death.

For this purpose, though under the pretence of renewing the war against Persia, he ordered Rustan to march towards Diarbequir at the head of a numerous army, and to rid him of a son whose life he deemed inconsistent with his own safety. But that crafty minister did not choose to be loaded with the odium of having executed such a cruel order. As soon as he arrived in Syria, he wrote to Solyman, that the danger was so imminent as called for his immediate presence; that the camp was full of Mustapha's emissaries; that many of the soldiers were corrupted; that the affections of all leaned towards him; that he had discovered a negotiation which had been carried on with the Sophi of Persia, in order to marry Mustapha with one of his daughters; that he already felt his own talents, as well as authority, to be inadequate to the exigen cies of such an arduous conjuncture; that the Sultan alone had sagacity to discern what resolution should be taken in those circumstances, and power to carry that resolution into execution.

This charge of courting the friendship of the Sophi, Roxalana and Rustan had reserved as the last and most envenomed of all their calumnies. It operated with the violence which they expected from Solyman's inveterate abhorrence of the Per

sians, and threw him into the wildest transports of rage. He set out instantly for Syria, and hastened thither with all the precipitation and impatience of fear and revenge. As soon as he joined his army near Aleppo, and had concerted measures with Rustan, he sent a chiaus or messenger of the court to his son, requiring him to repair immediately to his presence. Mustapha, though no stranger to his stepmother's machinations, or to Rustan's malice, yet relying on his own innocence, and hoping to discredit the accusations of his enemies by the promptitude of his obedience, followed the messenger without delay to Aleppo. The moment he arrived in the camp, he was introduced into the Sultan's tent; as he entered it, he observed nothing which could give him any alarm; no additional attendants, no body of armed guards, but the same order and silence which always reigns in the Sultan's apartments. In a few minutes, however, several mutes appeared, at the sight of whom Mustapha, knowing what was his doom, cried with a loud voice, "Lo my death!" and attempted to fly. The mutes rushed forward to seize him; he resisted and struggled, demanding with the utmost earnestness to see the Sultan; and despair, together with the hope of finding protection from the soldiers, if he could escape out of the tent, animated him with such extraordinary strength, that for some time he baffled all the efforts of the executioners. Solyman was within hearing of his son's cries, as well as the noise which the struggle occasioned. Impatient of this delay of revenge, and struck with terror at the thoughts of Mustapha's escaping, he drew aside the curtain which divided the tent, and thrusting in his head, darted a fierce look towards the mutes, and with wild and threatening gestures, seemed to 'condemn their sloth and timidity. At sight of his father's furious and unrelenting countenance, Mus

tapha's strength failed, and his courage forsook him; the mutes fastened the bow-string about his neck, and in a moment put an end to his life.

ADMIRAL COLIGNY.

THE first time that we hear of the admiral is at the siege of St. Quintin. After it had long withstood the attacks of the duke of Savoy, a few days must have put him in possession of the town, had not the admiral, who thought it concerned his honour to attempt saving a place of such importance to his country, and which lay within his jurisdiction as governor of Piccardy, taken the gallant resolution of throwing himself into it, with such a body of men as he could collect on a sudden. This resolution he executed with great intrepidity, and if the nature of the enterprise be considered, with no contemptible success; for though one half of his small body was cut off, he with the other broke through the enemy and entered the town. The unexpected arrival of an officer of such high rank and reputation, and who had exposed himself to such danger in order to join them, inspired the desponding garrison with courage. Every thing that the admiral's great skill and experience in the art of war could suggest for annoying the enemy or defending the town was attempted, and the citizens as well as the garrison seconding his zeal with equal ardour, seemed to be determined that they would hold out to the last, and sacrifice themselves in order to save their country.

A courage undismayed and tranquil amidst the greatest dangers, an invention fruitful in resources, a genius which roused and seemed to acquire new force upon every disaster, a talent of governing the minds of men, together with a capacity of maintain

ing his ascendant over them, even under circumstances the most adverse and distressful, were qualities which Coligny possessed in a degree superior to any general of that age. These qualities were peculiarly adapted to the station in which he was placed; and as he knew the infinite importance to his country of every hour which he could gain at this juncture, he exerted himself to the utmost, in contriving how to protract the siege, and to detain the enemy from attempting any enterprise more dangerous to France. Such were the perseverance and skill with which he conducted the defence, and such the fortitude, as well as the patience, with which he animated the garrison, that, though the Spaniards, the Flemings, and the English, carried on the attack with all the ardour which national emulation inspires, he held out the town seventeen days. He was taken prisoner at last on the breach, being overpowered by the superior numbers of the enemy. The base return which this brave and good man received for his services to his country, was a violent death in the execrable massacre of the protestants in Paris.

CHARLES V.

AFTER a life of activity and enterprise, Charles formed the resolution of resigning his hereditary dominions to his son Philip, and withdrawing from any concern in the business of this world, in order that he might spend the remainder of his days in retirement and solitude. This resolution he put in execution to the astonishment of all Europe, and retired to the monastery of St. Justus in Plazencia. There he buried in solitude and silence, his grandeur, his ambition, together with all those vast projects, which, during almost half a century had alarm

ed and agitated Europe, filling every kingdom in it by turns with the terror of his arms, and the dread of being subdued by his power. The contrast between Charles's conduct and that of the pope at this juncture, was so obvious, that it struck even the most careless observers; nor was the comparison which they made to the advantage of Paul. The former, a conqueror, born to reign, long accustomed to the splendour which accompanies supreme power, and to those busy and interesting scenes in which an active ambition had engaged him, quitted the world at a period of life not far advanced, that he might close the evening of his days in tranquillity, and secure some intervals for sober thought and serious recollection. The latter, a priest, who had passed the early part of his life in the shade of the schools, and in the study of the speculative sciences, who was seemingly so detached from the world, that he had shut himself up for many years in the solitude of a cloister, and who was not raised to the papal throne until he had reached the extremity of old age, discovered at once all the impetuosity of youthful ambi tion, and engaged in vast schemes, in order to accomplish which, he scrupled not to scatter the seeds. of discord, and to kindle the flames of war in every corner of Europe. But Paul, regardless of the opinion or censures of mankind, held on his own course with his wonted arrogance and violence.

When Charles entered his retreat, he formed such a plan of life for himself, as would have suited the condition of a private gentleman of a mode. rate fortune. His table was neat but plain; his domestics few, his intercourse with them familiar, all the cumbersome and ceremonious forms of attendance on his person were entirely abolished, as destructive of that social ease and tranquillity which he courted, in order to sooth the remainder of his