disappear, and that it would be easy to set the bloodhounds upon any game whatever.  Saint Aldegonde wrote to the Prince, that it would be a great point, but a very difficult one, to justify the Ghent transaction; for there was little doubt that the Hessels letter was a forgery.  It was therefore as well, no doubt, that the Prince had not decidedly committed himself to Ryhove’s plot; and thus deprived himself of the right to interfere afterwards, according to what seemed the claims of justice and sound policy.

He now sent Arend Van Dorp to Ghent, to remonstrate with the leaders of the insurrection upon the violence of their measures, and to demand the liberation of the prisoners—­a request which was only complied with in the case of Aerschot.  That nobleman was liberated on the 14th of November, under the condition that he would solemnly pledge himself to forget and forgive the treatment which he had received, but the other prisoners were retained in custody for a much longer period.  A few weeks afterwards, the Prince of Orange visited Ghent, at the earnest request of the four estates of Flanders, and it was hoped that his presence would contribute to the restoration of tranquillity.

This visit was naturally honored by a brilliant display of “rhetorical” spectacles and tableaux vivants; for nothing could exceed the passion of the Netherlanders of that century for apologues and charades.  In allegory they found an ever-present comforter in their deepest afflictions.  The prince was escorted from the Town-gate to the Jacob’s church amid a blaze of tar-barrels and torches, although it was mid-day, where a splendid exhibition had been arranged by that sovereign guild of rhetoric, “Jesus with the Balsam Flower.”  The drama was called Judas Maccabaeus, in compliment to the Prince.  In the centre of the stage stood the Hebrew patriot, in full armor, symbolizing the illustrious guest doing battle for his country.  He was attended by the three estates of the country, ingeniously personified by a single individual, who wore the velvet bonnet of a noble, the cassock of a priest, end the breeches of a burgher.  Groups of allegorical personages were drawn up on the right and left;—­Courage, Patriotism, Freedom, Mercy, Diligence, and other estimable qualities upon one side, were balanced by Murder, Rapine, Treason, and the rest of the sisterhood of Crime on the other.  The Inquisition was represented as a lean and hungry hag.  The “Ghent Pacification” was dressed in cramoisy satin, and wore a city on her head for a turban; while; tied to her apron-strings were Catholicism and Protestantism, bound in a loving embrace by a chain of seventeen links, which she was forging upon an anvil.  Under the anvil was an individual in complete harness, engaged in eating his heart; this was Discord.  In front of the scene stood History and Rhetoric, attired as “triumphant maidens, in white garments,” each with a laurel crown and a burning torch.  These personages, after holding a rhymed dialogue between themselves, filled with wonderful conceits and quibbles, addressed the Prince of Orange and Maccabaeus, one after the other, in a great quantity of very detestable verses.