their property, and their false religion, for their own cause, in short, are contented to receive rations only, without receiving pay.”  The moral which the new Governor drew from his correct diagnosis of the prevailing disorder was, not that this national enthusiasm should be respected, but that it should be deceived.  He deceived no one but himself, however.  He censured Noircarmes and Romero for their intermeddling, but held out hopes of a general pacification.  He repudiated the idea of any reconciliation between the King and the Prince of Orange, but proposed at the same time a settlement of the revolt.  He had not yet learned that the revolt and William of Orange were one.  Although the Prince himself had repeatedly offered to withdraw for ever from the country, if his absence would expedite a settlement satisfactory to the provinces, there was not a patriot in the Netherlands who could contemplate his departure without despair.  Moreover, they all knew better than did Requesens, the inevitable result of the pacific measures which had been daily foreshadowed.

The appointment of the Grand Commander was in truth a desperate attempt to deceive the Netherlanders.  He approved distinctly and heartily of Alva’s policy, but wrote to the King that it was desirable to amuse the people with the idea of another and a milder scheme.  He affected to believe, and perhaps really did believe, that the nation would accept the destruction of all their institutions, provided that penitent heretics were allowed to be reconciled to the Mother Church, and obstinate ones permitted to go into perpetual exile, taking with them a small portion of their worldly goods.  For being willing to make this last and almost incredible concession, he begged pardon sincerely of the King.  If censurable, he ought not, he thought, to be too severely blamed, for his loyalty was known.  The world was aware how often he had risked his life for his Majesty, and how gladly and how many more times he was ready to risk it in future.  In his opinion, religion had, after all, but very little to do with the troubles, and so he confidentially informed his sovereign.  Egmont and Horn had died Catholics, the people did not rise to assist the Prince’s invasion in 1568, and the new religion was only a lever by which a few artful demagogues had attempted to overthrow the King’s authority.

Such views as these revealed the measures of the new Governor’s capacity.  The people had really refused to rise in 1568, not because they were without sympathy for Orange, but because they were paralyzed by their fear of Alva.  Since those days, however, the new religion had increased and multiplied everywhere, in the blood which had rained upon it.  It was now difficult to find a Catholic in Holland and Zealand, who was not a government agent.  The Prince had been a moderate Catholic, in the opening scenes of the rebellion, while he came forward as the champion of liberty for all forms of Christianity.  He