The sixteenth century presents itself pregnant with grave and all-important events. The old world disappears—a new order of things commences. The royal power, adorned with the seignorial prerogatives snatched from the subjugated barons, establishes itself amidst their ruined castles, beneath which lies buried the feudal system. Mercenary armies, now constantly maintained by the sovereign, render him independent of the military services of his subjects, and formidable alike to foreign foes and to turbulent nobles. The monarchs advance rapidly towards despotism—the people subside into apathetic submission, Europe has become the appanage of a few masters. Henry VIII. of England, Francis I. of France, and Charles V. of Spain, share it among them; but, not content with their respective dominions, they fight among themselves for the empire of the whole, or at least for supremacy of power. Henry having retired from the contest after the Electoral Congress of Frankfort, the other two continue the strife with varying success. The gold of the recently discovered western world, and his immense possessions, give to Charles an enormous power. The bravery of a warlike nation makes formidable the chivalrous spirit of the indomitable Francis. Their wars redden Europe with blood, yet produce no decided result. Meanwhile, as a compensation for these evils, the human mind, casting off the prejudices and ignorance of the Middle Ages, marches to regeneration. Italy becomes, for the second time, the centre from whence the light of genius and learning shines forth over Europe. Leonardo da Vinci, Tiziano, Michael Angelo, are the sublime, the almost divine interpreters of art. Pulci, Ariosto, Poliziano, give a new and creative impulse to literature, and are the worthy descendants of Dante. Scholasticism, with its subtle argumentations, vague reasonings, and illogical deductions, is superseded by the practical philosophy of Lorenzo and Machiavelli, and by the irresistible and eloquent logic of the virtuous but unfortunate Savonarola. Men who for the last three centuries had been satisfied with what had been taught and said by Aristotle and his followers—who, as the last and incontrovertible argument, had been accustomed to exclaim, _Ipse dixit_—now begin to think for themselves, and dare to doubt and discuss what had hitherto been considered sacred and unassailable truths. The newly-awakened human intellect eagerly enters upon the new path, and becomes argumentative and inquiring, to the great dismay of those who deprecated diversity of faith; and the Court of Rome, depending on the blind obedience of the credulous, anathematising every disputer of the Papal infallibility, views with especial concern this rising spirit of inquiry, and has to tremble for its usurped power.