respected.  Had the two branches of the illustrious house of Wittelsbach been combined in one purpose, the opposition to the House of Austria might indeed have been formidable.  But what were ties of blood compared to the iron bands of religious love and hatred?  How could Maximilian, sternest of Papists, and Frederick V., flightiest of Calvinists, act harmoniously in an Imperial election?  Moreover, Maximilian was united by ties of youthful and tender friendship as well as by kindred and perfect religious sympathy to his other cousin, King Ferdinand himself.  The case seemed hopeless, but the Elector went to Munich, and held conferences with his cousin.  Not willing to take No for an answer so long as it was veiled under evasive or ornamental phraseology, he continued to negotiate with Maximilian through his envoys Camerarius and Secretary Neu, who held long debates with the Duke’s chief councillor, Doctor Jocher.  Camerarius assured Jocher that his master was the Hercules to untie the Gordian knot, and the lion of the tribe of Judah.  How either the lion of Judah or Hercules were to untie the knot which was popularly supposed to have been cut by the sword of Alexander did not appear, but Maximilian at any rate was moved neither by entreaties nor tropes.  Being entirely averse from entering himself for the German crown, he grew weary at last of the importunity with which the scheme was urged.  So he wrote a short billet to his councillor, to be shown to Secretary Neu.

“Dear Jocher,” he said, “I am convinced one must let these people understand the matter in a little plainer German.  I am once for all determined not to let myself into any misunderstanding or even amplifications with the House of Austria in regard to the succession.  I think also that it would rather be harmful than useful to my house to take upon myself so heavy a burthen as the German crown.”

This time the German was plain enough and produced its effect.  Maximilian was too able a statesman and too conscientious a friend to wish to exchange his own proud position as chief of the League, acknowledged head of the great Catholic party, for the slippery, comfortless, and unmeaning throne of the Holy Empire, which he considered Ferdinand’s right.

The chiefs of the anti-Austrian party, especially the Prince of Anhalt and the Margrave of Anspach, in unison with the Heidelberg cabinet, were forced to look for another candidate.  Accordingly the Margrave and the Elector-Palatine solemnly agreed that it was indispensable to choose an emperor who should not be of the House of Austria nor a slave of Spain.  It was, to be sure, not possible to think of a Protestant prince.  Bavaria would not oppose Austria, would also allow too much influence to the Jesuits.  So there remained no one but the Duke of Savoy.  He was a prince of the Empire.  He was of German descent, of Saxon race, a great general, father of his soldiers, who would protect Europe against a Turkish invasion better than the bastions of Vienna could do.  He would be agreeable to the Catholics, while the Protestants could live under him without anxiety because the Jesuits would be powerless with him.  It would be a master-stroke if the princes would unite upon him.  The King of France would necessarily be pleased with it, the King of Great Britain delighted.