belonging both to the bishops and to the commissioners of the Roman see.”  The papal and episcopal establishments, in co-operation with the edicts, were enough, if thoroughly exercised and completely extended.  The edicts alone were sufficient.  “The edicts and the inquisition are one and the same thing,” said the Prince of Orange.  The circumstance, that the civil authorities were not as entirely superseded by the Netherland, as by the Spanish system, was rather a difference of form than of fact.  We have seen that the secular officers of justice were at the command of the inquisitors.  Sheriff, gaoler, judge, and hangman, were all required, under the most terrible penalties, to do their bidding.  The reader knows what the edicts were.  He knows also the instructions to the corps of papal inquisitors, delivered by Charles and Philip:  He knows that Philip, both in person and by letter, had done his utmost to sharpen those instructions, during the latter portion of his sojourn in the Netherlands.  Fourteen new bishops, each with two special inquisitors under him, had also been appointed to carry out the great work to which the sovereign had consecrated his existence.  The manner in which the hunters of heretics performed their office has been exemplified by slightly sketching the career of a single one of the sub-inquisitors, Peter Titelmann.  The monarch and his minister scarcely needed, therefore, to transplant the peninsular exotic.  Why should they do so?  Philip, who did not often say a great deal in a few words, once expressed the whole truth of the matter in a single sentence:  “Wherefore introduce the Spanish inquisition?” said he; “the inquisition of the Netherlands is much more pitiless than that of Spain.”

Such was the system of religious persecution commenced by Charles, and perfected by Philip.  The King could not claim the merit of the invention, which justly belonged to the Emperor.  At the same time, his responsibility for the unutterable woe caused by the continuance of the scheme is not a jot diminished.  There was a time when the whole system had fallen into comparative desuetude.  It was utterly abhorrent to the institutions and the manners of the Netherlanders.  Even a great number of the Catholics in the provinces were averse to it.  Many of the leading grandees, every one of whom was Catholic were foremost in denouncing its continuance.  In short, the inquisition had been partially endured, but never accepted.  Moreover, it had never been introduced into Luxemburg or Groningen.  In Gelderland it had been prohibited by the treaty through which that province had been annexed to the emperor’s dominions, and it had been uniformly and successfully resisted in Brabant.  Therefore, although Philip, taking the artful advice of Granvelle, had sheltered himself under the Emperor’s name by re-enacting, word for word, his decrees, and re-issuing his instructions, he can not be allowed any such protection at the bar of history.  Such a defence for crimes