reluctant and almost rebellious people the odious measures which the King had resolved upon, while in his secret letters he uniformly represented the nobles who opposed him, as being influenced, not by an honest hatred of oppression and attachment to ancient rights, but by resentment, and jealousy of their own importance.  He assumed, in his letters to his master, that the absolutism already existed of right and in fact, which it was the intention of Philip to establish.  While he was depriving the nobles, the states and the nation of their privileges, and even of their natural rights (a slender heritage in those days), he assured the King that there was an evident determination to reduce his authority to a cipher.

The estates, he wrote, had usurped the whole administration of the finances, and had farmed it out to Antony Van Stralen and others, who were making enormous profits in the business.  “The seignors,” he said, “declare at their dinner parties that I wish to make them subject to the absolute despotism of your Majesty.  In point of fact, however, they really exercise a great deal more power than the governors of particular provinces ever did before; and it lacks but little that Madame and your Majesty should become mere ciphers, while the grandees monopolize the whole power.  This,” he continued, “is the principal motive of their opposition to the new bishoprics.  They were angry that your Majesty should have dared to solicit such an arrangement at Rome, without, first obtaining their consent.  They wish to reduce your Majesty’s authority to so low a point that you can do nothing unless they desire it.  Their object is the destruction of the royal authority and of the administration of justice, in order to avoid the payment of their debts; telling their creditors constantly that they, have spent their all in your Majesty’s service, and that they have never received recompence or salary.  This they do to make your Majesty odious.”

As a matter of course, he attributed the resistance on the part of the great nobles, every man of whom was Catholic, to base motives.  They were mere demagogues, who refused to burn their fellow-creatures, not from any natural repugnance to the task, but in order to gain favor with the populace.  “This talk about the inquisition,” said he, “is all a pretext.  ’Tis only to throw dust in the eyes of the vulgar, and to persuade them into tumultuous demonstrations, while the real reason is, that they choose that your Majesty should do nothing without their permission, and through their hands.”

He assumed sometimes, however, a tone of indulgence toward the seignors—­who formed the main topics of his letters—­an affectation which might, perhaps, have offended them almost as much as more open and sincere denunciation.  He could forgive offences against himself.  It was for Philip to decide as to their merits or crimes so far as the Crown was concerned.  His language often was befitting a wise man who was speaking of very