be misconstrued, and too peremptory to be tampered with--the president
imagined the possibility of delay. The health of the ancient Frisian had
but recently permitted him to resume his seat at the council board. His
presence there was but temporary, for he had received from Madrid the
acceptance of his resignation, accompanied with orders to discharge the
duties of President until the arrival of his successor, Charles de
Tisnacq. Thus, in his own language, the Duchess was still obliged to
rely for a season "upon her ancient Palinurus," a necessity far from
agreeable to her, for she had lost confidence in the pilot. It may be
supposed that he was anxious to smooth the troubled waters during the
brief period in which he was still to be exposed to their fury; but he
poured out the oil of his eloquence in vain. Nobody sustained his
propositions. The Duchess, although terrified at the probable
consequences, felt the impossibility of disobeying the deliberate decree
of her brother. A proclamation was accordingly prepared, by which it was
ordered that the Council of Trent, the edicts and the inquisition, should
be published in every town and village in the provinces, immediately, and
once in six months forever afterwards. The deed was done, and the Prince
of Orange, stooping to the ear of his next neighbor, as they sat at the
council-board, whispered that they were now about to witness the
commencement of the most extraordinary tragedy which had ever been
enacted.

The prophecy was indeed a proof that the Prince could read the future,
but the sarcasm of the President, that the remark had been made in a tone
of exultation, was belied by every action of the prophet's life.

The fiat went forth. In the market-place of every town and village of
the Netherlands, the inquisition was again formally proclaimed. Every
doubt which had hitherto existed as to the intention of the government