law, and a numerous retinue of the Flemish nobility. Before he went on board, he dismissed them, with marks of his attention or regard; and taking leave of Philip with all the tenderness of a father who em braced his son for the last time, he set sail under convoy of a large fleet of Spanish, Flemish, and English ships.

His voyage was prosperous and agreeable; and he arrived at Laredo in Biscay, on the eleventh day after he left Zealand. As soon as he landed, he fell prostrate on the ground; and considering himself now as dead to the world, he kissed the earth, and said, "Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked I now return to thee, thou common mother of mankind." From Laredo he proceeded to Valladolid. There he took a last and tender leave of his two sisters; whom he would not permit to accompany him to his solitude, though they entreated it with tears: not only that they might have the consolation of contributing, by their attendance and care, to mitigate or to sooth his sufferings, but that they might reap instruction and benefit, by joining with him in those pious exercises, to which he had consecrated the remainder of his days.

From Valladolid, he continued his journey to Plazencia in Estremadura. He had passed through that city a great many years before; and having been. struck at that time with the delightful situation of the monastery of St. Justus, belonging to the order of St. Jerome, not many miles distant from that place, he had then observed to some of his attendants, that this was a spot to which Dioclesian might have retired with pleasure. The impression had remained se

strong on his mind, place of his retreat.

that he pitched upon it as the It was seated in a vale of no

great extent, watered by a small brook, and surrounded by rising grounds, covered with lofty trees. From the nature of the soil, as well as the temperature of the climate, it was esteemed the most healthful and delicious situation in Spain. Some months before his resignation, he had sent an architect thither, to add a new apartment to the monastery, for his accommodation; but he gave strict orders that the style of the building should be such as suited his present station, rather than his former dignity. It consisted only of six rooms, four of them in the form of friars' cells, with naked walls; the other two, each twenty feet square, were hung with brown cloth, and furnished in the most simple manner. They were all on a level with the ground; with a door on one side into a garden, of which Charles himself had given the plan, and had filled it with various plants, which he proposed to cul. tivate with his own hands. On the other side, they communicated with the chapel of the monastery, in which he was to perform his devotions. Into this humble retreat, hardly sufficient for the comfortable accommodation of a private gentleman, did Charles enter, with twelve domestics only. He buried there, in solitude and silence, his grandeur, his ambition, together with all those vast projects, which, during half a century, had alarmed and agitated Europe; filling every kingdom in it, by turns, with the terror of his arms, and the dread of being subjected to his

power.

In this retirement, Charles formed such a plan of life for himself, as would have suited the condition of

a private person of a moderate fortune. His table
was neat but plain; his domestics few; his inter-
course 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 days. As the mildness of the
climate, together with his deliverance from the bur-
dens and cares of government, procured him, at first,
a considerable remission from the acute pains with
which he had been long tormented, he enjoyed, per-
haps, more complete satisfaction in this humble so-
litude, than all his grandeur had ever yielded him.
The ambitious thoughts and projects which had so
long engrossed and disquieted him, were quite effaced.
from his mind. Far from taking any part in the poli
tical transactions of the princes of Europe, he re-
strained his curiosity even from any inquiry concern-
ing them; and he seemed to view the busy scene
which he had abandoned, with all the contempt and
indifference arising from his thorough experience of
its vanity, as well as from the pleasing reflection of
having disentangled himself from its cares.

Dr. ROBERTSON,

1

PART II.

PIECES IN POETRY.

CHAPTER I.

SELECT SENTENCES AND PARAGRAPHS.

SECTION 1.

Short and easy Sentences.

Education.

'Tis education forms the common mind; Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclin❜d.

Candour.

With pleasure let us own our errors past;
And make each day a critic on the last.

Reflection.

A soul without reflection, like a pile
Without inhabitant, to ruin runs.

NOTE.

In the first chapter, the Compiler has exhibited a considerable variety of poetical construction, for the young reader's prepara tory exercise.