The parallel need be pursued no further.  Thus much it was necessary to recall to the historical student concerning the prominent characteristics by which the two great races of the land were distinguished:  characteristics which Time has rather hardened than effaced.  In the contrast and the separation lies the key to much of their history.  Had Providence permitted a fusion of the two races, it is, possible, from their position, and from the geographical and historical link which they would have afforded to the dominant tribes of Europe, that a world-empire might have been the result, different in many respects from any which has ever arisen.  Speculations upon what might have been are idle.  It is well, however; to ponder the many misfortunes resulting from a mutual repulsion, which, under other circumstances and in other spheres, has been exchanged for mutual attraction and support.

It is now necessary to sketch rapidly the political transformations undergone by the country, from the early period down to the middle of the sixteenth century; the epoch when the long agony commenced, out of which the Batavian republic was born.

III.

The earliest chapter in the history of the Netherlands was written by their conqueror.  Celtic Gaul is already in the power of Rome; the Belgic tribes, alarmed at the approaching danger, arm against the universal, tyrant.  Inflammable, quick to strike, but too fickle to prevail against so powerful a foe, they hastily form a league of almost every clan.  At the first blow of Caesar’s sword, the frail confederacy falls asunder like a rope of sand.  The tribes scatter in all directions.

Nearly all are soon defeated, and sue for mercy.  The Nervii, true to the German blood in their, veins, swear to die rather than surrender.  They, at least, are worthy of their cause.  Caesar advances against them at the head of eight legions.  Drawn up on the banks of the Sambre, they await the Roman’s approach.  In three days’ march Caesar comes up with them, pitches his camp upon a steep hill sloping down to the river, and sends some cavalry across.  Hardly have the Roman horsemen crossed the stream, than the Nervii rush from the wooded hill-top, overthrow horse and rider, plunge in one great mass into the current, and, directly afterwards, are seen charging up the hill into the midst of the enemy’s force.  “At the same moment,” says the conqueror, “they seemed in the wood, in the river, and within our lines.”  There is a panic among the Romans, but it is brief.  Eight veteran Roman legions, with the world’s victor at their head, are too much for the brave but undisciplined Nervii.  Snatching a shield from a soldier, and otherwise unarmed, Caesar throws himself into the hottest of the fight.  The battle rages foot to foot and hand to hand but the hero’s skill, with the cool valor of his troops, proves invincible as ever.  The Nervii, true to their vow, die, but not a man surrenders.