could at a glance "ascertain the head of {110} chamois and red deer in any of the 200 and odd localities described therein," and is full of hints and suggestions as to the posting of the sportsmen and as to possible quarters for the night. Often when there was no castle in the neighbourhood, the Emperor had to content himself with a primitive log-hut high up on the mountain-slopes. Sometimes, to avoid such rough lodging for the night, he covered tremendous distances on horseback, to get back to more frequented valleys; and it was doubtless on such an occasion as this that he found a beggar dying by the roadside, and, dismounting, gave him his own flask to drink from, wrapped his own mantle round him, and then rode hotly to the next town to summon a priest.[136] Fatigue was well-nigh unknown to him, and he must sometimes "have started from his headquarters in the middle of the night, getting back only after some thirty-six hours in the saddle.... Only those acquainted with the very voluminous correspondence of this keen sportsman can form any idea of the close attention paid by him to every detail connected with the chase.... In the thick of a bloody war in the Netherlands we find him writing letters about a young ibex buck some peasant women in a remote Tyrolese valley were keeping for him, or promising in an autograph letter a silk dress to each of certain peasants' wives in an isolated glen, as a reward for preventing their husbands from poaching this rare game, or giving minute instructions where a particular couple of hunting hounds were to be kept, and what was to be done with their puppies."[137] Our {111} astonishment is not lessened when we learn that Maximilian possessed as many as 1,500 hounds. This brief digression, to which the Emperor's literary works have inevitably tempted us, is far from inappropriate to any description of one whose passion for the chase led him to sign himself "sportsman and Emperor." Thus, in all their manifold branches, Literature, Art and Science owe Maximilian a deep debt of gratitude. He worthily led the great onward movement of his day, devoting himself to its cause with whole-hearted service. He guided and controlled it up to the very threshold of that mighty Revolution, in which "a solitary monk" was destined to shake the world; and on the threshold it was but fitting that he should leave its direction to others. His little foibles and conceits vanish, in view of the great fact that he had nobly performed his duty in the march of time; and it would indeed have been a cruel mockery of fate, had he been left to see his ideals shattered and falsified, the world of his conception renovated and transformed, while he himself, too old in years and too passionate in conviction to remain leader of the van, dropped backward amid the indistinguishable throng.