sanctify the infernal scheme. He busied himself personally in the
execution of these horrible laws, even when judge and hangman slackened.
To the last he denounced all those "who should counsel his Majesty to
permit a moderation of the edicts," and warned the King that if he should
consent to the least mitigation of their provisions, things would go
worse in the provinces than in France. He was diligent in establishing
the reinforced episcopal inquisition side by side with these edicts, and
with the papal inquisition already in full operation. He omitted no
occasion of encouraging the industry of all these various branches in the
business of persecution. When at last the loud cry from the oppressed
inhabitants of Flanders was uttered in unanimous denunciation by the four
estates of that province of the infamous Titelmann, the Cardinal's voice,
from the depths of his luxurious solitude, was heard, not in sympathy
with the poor innocent wretches, who were daily dragged from their humble
homes to perish by sword and fire, but in pity for the inquisitor who was
doing the work of hell. "I deeply regret," he wrote to Viglius, "that
the states of Flanders should be pouting at inquisitor Titelmann. Truly
he has good zeal, although sometimes indiscreet and noisy; still he must
be supported, lest they put a bridle upon him, by which his authority
will be quite enervated." The reader who is acquainted with the
personality of Peter Titelmann can decide as to the real benignity of the
joyous epicurean who could thus commend and encourage such a monster of
cruelty.

If popularity be a test of merit in a public man, it certainly could not
be claimed by the Cardinal. From the moment when Gresham declared him to
be "hated of all men," down to the period of his departure, the odium
resting upon him had been rapidly extending: He came to the country with
two grave accusations resting upon his name. The Emperor Maximilian
asserted that the Cardinal had attempted to take his life by poison, and