At this epoch the provincial liberties, so far as they could maintain themselves against Spanish despotism, were practical and substantial.  The government was a representative one, in which all those who had the inclination possessed, in one mode or another, a voice.  Although the various members of the confederacy were locally and practically republics or self-governed little commonwealths, the general government which they, established was, in form, monarchical.  The powers conferred upon Orange constituted him a sovereign ad interim, for while the authority of the Spanish monarch remained suspended, the Prince was invested, not only with the whole executive and appointing power, but even with a very large share in the legislative functions of the state.

The whole system was rather practical than theoretical, without any accurate distribution of political powers.  In living, energetic communities, where the blood of the body politic circulates swiftly, there is an inevitable tendency of the different organs to sympathize and commingle more closely than a priori philosophy would allow.  It is usually more desirable than practicable to keep the executive, legislative, and judicial departments entirely independent of each other.

Certainly, the Prince of Orange did not at that moment indulge in speculations concerning the nature and origin of government.  The Congress of Delft had just clothed him with almost regal authority.  In his hands were the powers of war and peace, joint control of the magistracies and courts of justice, absolute supremacy over the army and the fleets.  It is true that these attributes had been conferred upon him ad interim, but it depended only upon himself to make the sovereignty personal and permanent.  He was so thoroughly absorbed in his work, however, that he did not even see the diadem which he put aside.  It was small matter to him whether they called him stadholder or guardian, prince or king.  He was the father of his country and its defender.  The people, from highest to lowest, called him “Father William,” and the title was enough for him.  The question with him was not what men should call him, but how he should best accomplish his task.

So little was he inspired by the sentiment of self-elevation, that he was anxiously seeking for a fitting person—­strong, wise, and willing enough—­to exercise the sovereignty which was thrust upon himself, but which he desired to exchange against an increased power to be actively useful to his country.  To expel the foreign oppressor; to strangle the Inquisition; to maintain the ancient liberties of the nation; here was labor enough for his own hands.  The vulgar thought of carving a throne out of the misfortunes of his country seems not to have entered his mind.  Upon one point, however, the Prince had been peremptory.  He would have no persecution of the opposite creed.  He was requested to suppress the Catholic religion, in terms.  As we have seen, he caused the expression