edicts which he had no power to enforce.  He had repeatedly solicited his recal, and was growing daily more impatient that his dismissal did not arrive.  Moreover, the horrible news of Escovedo’s assassination had sickened him to the soul.  The deed had flashed a sudden light into the abyss of dark duplicity in which his own fate was suspended.  His most intimate and confidential friend had been murdered by royal command, while he was himself abandoned by Philip, exposed to insult, left destitute of defence.  No money was forthcoming, in spite of constant importunities and perpetual promises.  Plenty of words were sent him; he complained, as if he possessed the art of extracting gold from them, or as if war could be carried on with words alone.

Being in so desponding a mood, he declined entering into any controversy with regard to the new propositions, which, however, he characterized as most iniquitous.  He stated merely that his Majesty had determined to refer the Netherland matters to the arbitration of the Emperor; that the Duke de Terra Nova would soon be empowered to treat upon the subject at the imperial court; and that, in the meantime, he was himself most anxiously awaiting his recal.

A synod of the Reformed churches had been held, during the month of June, at Dort.  There they had laid down a platform of their principles of church government in one hundred and one articles.  In the same month, the leading members of the Reformed Church had drawn up an ably reasoned address to Matthias and the Council of State on the subject of a general peace of religion for the provinces.

William of Orange did his utmost to improve the opportunity.  He sketched a system of provisional toleration, which he caused to be signed by the Archduke Matthias, and which, at least for a season, was to establish religious freedom.  The brave; tranquil, solitary man still held his track across the raging waves, shedding as much light as one clear human soul could dispense; yet the dim lantern, so far in advance, was swallowed in the mist, ere those who sailed in his wake could shape their course by his example.  No man understood him.  Not even his nearest friends comprehended his views, nor saw that he strove to establish not freedom for Calvinism, but freedom for conscience.  Saint Aldegonde complained that the Prince would not persecute the Anabaptists, Peter Dathenus denounced him as an atheist, while even Count John; the only one left of his valiant and generous brothers, opposed the religious peace—­except where the advantage was on the side of the new religion.  Where the Catholics had been effectually put down, as in Holland and Zealand, honest John saw so reason for allowing them to lift themselves up again.  In the Popish provinces, on the other hand, he was for a religious peace.  In this bigoted spirit he was followed by too many of the Reforming mass, while, on their part, the Walloons were already banding themselves