opportunity of venting their long-suppressed spleen.  They indulged in savage invectives against the man whom they so sincerely hated.  His adherents, on the other hand—­Bossu, Berlaymont, Courieres—­were as warm in his defence.  They replied by indignant denials of the charge against him, and by bitter insinuations against the Prince of Orange.  They charged him with nourishing the desire of being appointed governor of Brabant, an office considered inseparable from the general stadholderate of all the provinces.  They protested for themselves that they were actuated by no ambitious designs —­that they were satisfied with their own position, and not inspired by jealousy of personages more powerful than themselves.  It is obvious that such charges and recriminations could excite no healing result, and that the lines between Cardinalists and their opponents would be defined in consequence more sharply than ever.  The adjourned meeting of the Chevaliers of the Fleece took place a few days afterwards.  The Duchess exerted herself as much as possible to reconcile the contending factions, without being able, however, to apply the only remedy which could be effective.  The man who was already fast becoming the great statesman of the country knew that the evil was beyond healing, unless by a change of purpose on the part of the government.  The Regent, on the other hand, who it must be confessed never exhibited any remarkable proof of intellectual ability during the period of her residence in the Netherlands, was often inspired by a feeble and indefinite hope that the matter might be arranged by a compromise between the views of conflicting parties.  Unfortunately the inquisition was not a fit subject for a compromise.

Nothing of radical importance was accomplished by the Assembly of the Fleece.  It was decided that an application should be made to the different states for a giant of money, and that, furthermore, a special envoy should be despatched to Spain.  It was supposed by the Duchess and her advisers that more satisfactory information concerning the provinces could be conveyed to Philip by word of mouth than by the most elaborate epistles.  The meeting was dissolved after these two measures had been agreed upon.  Doctor Viglius, upon whom devolved the duty of making the report and petition to the states, proceeded to draw up the necessary application.  This he did with his customary elegance, and, as usual, very much to his own satisfaction.  On returning to his house, however, after having discharged this duty, he was very much troubled at finding that a large mulberry-tree; which stood in his garden, had been torn up by the roots in a violent hurricane.  The disaster was considered ominous by the President, and he was accordingly less surprised than mortified when he found, subsequently, that his demand upon the orders had remained as fruitless as his ruined tree.  The tempest which had swept his garden he considered typical of the storm which was soon to rage through the land, and he felt increased anxiety to reach a haven while it was yet comparatively calm.