This might, perhaps, be philosophical doctrine, had its supporters not forgotten that there had never been any pretence at an expression of the national will, except through the mouths of the States.  The States-General and the States-Provincial, without any usurpation, but as a matter of fact and of great political convenience, had, during fifteen years, exercised the authority which had fallen from Philip’s hands.  The people hitherto had acquiesced in their action, and certainly there had not yet been any call for a popular convention, or any other device to ascertain the popular will.  It was also difficult to imagine what was the exact entity of this abstraction called the “people” by men who expressed such extreme contempt for “merchants, advocates, town-orators, churls, tinkers, and base mechanic men, born not to command but to obey.”  Who were the people when the educated classes and the working classes were thus carefully eliminated?  Hardly the simple peasantry—­the boors—­who tilled the soil.  At that day the agricultural labourers less than all others dreamed of popular sovereignty, and more than all others submitted to the mild authority of the States.  According to the theory of the Netherland constitutions, they were supposed—­and they had themselves not yet discovered the fallacies to which such doctrines could lead—­to be represented by the nobles and country-squires who maintained in the States of each Province the general farming interests of the republic.  Moreover, the number of agricultural peasants was comparatively small.  The lower classes were rather accustomed to plough the sea than the land, and their harvests were reaped from that element, which to Hollanders and Zeelanders was less capricious than the solid earth.  Almost every inhabitant of those sea-born territories was, in one sense or another, a mariner; for every highway was a canal; the soil was percolated by rivers and estuaries, pools and meres; the fisheries were the nurseries in which still more daring navigators rapidly learned their trade, and every child took naturally to the ocean as to its legitimate home.

The “people,” therefore, thus enthroned by the Leicestrians over all the inhabitants of the country, appeared to many eyes rather a misty abstraction, and its claim of absolute sovereignty a doctrine almost as fantastic as that of the divine right of kings.  The Netherlanders were, on the whole, a law-abiding people, preferring to conduct even a revolution according to precedent, very much attached to ancient usages and traditions, valuing the liberties, as they called them, which they had wrested from what had been superior force, with their own right hands, preferring facts to theories, and feeling competent to deal with tyrants in the concrete rather than to annihilate tyranny in the abstract by a bold and generalizing phraseology.  Moreover the opponents of the Leicester party complained that the principal use to which this newly discovered “people” had been applied, was to confer its absolute sovereignty unconditionally upon one man.  The people was to be sovereign in order that it might immediately abdicate in favour of the Earl.