powerful arguments of Orange, would be inevitably seduced or bewildered.
The President lay awake, tossing and tumbling in his bed, recalling the
Prince's oration, point by point, and endeavoring, to answer it in order.
It was important, he felt, to obliterate the impression produced.
Moreover, as we have often seen, the learned Doctor valued himself upon
his logic.

It was absolutely necessary, therefore, that in his reply, next day, his
eloquence should outshine that of his antagonist. The President thus
passed a feverish and uncomfortable night, pronouncing and listening to
imaginary harangues. With the dawn of day he arose and proceeded to
dress himself. The excitement of the previous evening and the subsequent
sleeplessness of his night had, however, been too much for his feeble and
slightly superannuated frame. Before he had finished his toilet,
a stroke of apoplexy stretched him senseless upon the floor.
His servants, when they soon afterwards entered the apartment,
found him rigid, and to all appearance dead. After a few days,
however, he recovered his physical senses in part, but his reason
remained for a longer time shattered, and was never perhaps fully
restored to its original vigor.

This event made it necessary that his place in the council should be
supplied. Viglius had frequently expressed intentions of retiring,
a measure to which he could yet never fully make up his mind. His place
was now temporarily supplied by his friend and countryman, Joachim
Hopper, like himself a, Frisian doctor of ancient blood and extensive
acquirements, well versed in philosophy and jurisprudence; a professor of
Louvain and a member of the Mechlin council. He was likewise the
original founder and projector of Douay University, an institution which
at Philip's desire he had successfully organized in 1556, in order that a