the steps. The preacher grappled with his enemy as he fell, and both
came rolling to the ground. Neither was much injured, but a tumult
ensued. A pistol-shot was fired, and the sailor wounded in the arm.
Daggers were drawn, cudgels brandished, the bystanders taking part
generally against the sailor, while those who protected him were somewhat
bruised and belabored before they could convey him out of the church.
Nothing more, however, transpired that day, and the keepers of the
cathedral were enabled to expel the crowd and to close the doors for the
night.

Information of this tumult was brought to the senate, then assembled
in the Hotel de Ville. That body was thrown into a state of great
perturbation. In losing the Prince of Orange, they seemed to have lost
their own brains, and the first measure which they took was to despatch a
messenger to implore his return. In the mean time, it was necessary that
they should do something for themselves. It was evident that a storm was
brewing. The pest which was sweeping so rapidly through the provinces
would soon be among them. Symptoms of the dreaded visitation were
already but too manifest. What precaution should: they take? Should
they issue a proclamation? Such documents had been too common of late,
and had lost their virtue. It was the time not to assert but to exercise
authority. Should they summon the ward-masters, and order the instant
arming and mustering of their respective companies? Should they assemble
the captains of the Military associations? Nothing better could have
been desired than such measures in cases of invasion or of ordinary
tumult, but who should say how deeply the poison had sunk into the body
politic; who should say with how much or how little alacrity the burgher
militia would obey the mandates of the magistracy? It would be better to
issue no proclamation unless they could enforce its provisions; it would
be better not to call out the citizen soldiery unless they were likely to