years."

Before the year had revolved, Charles had become thoroughly convinced of
the fatal impression produced by the event. Bitter and almost abject
were his whinings at the Catholic King's desertion of his cause.
"He knows well," wrote Charles to Saint Goard, "that if he can terminate
these troubles and leave me alone in the dance, he will have leisure and
means to establish his authority, not only in the Netherlands but
elsewhere; and that he will render himself more grand and formidable than
he has ever been. This is the return they render for the good received
from me, which is such as every one knows."

Gaspar de Schomberg, the adroit and honorable agent of Charles in
Germany, had at a very early day warned his royal master of the ill
effect of the massacre upon all the schemes which he had been pursuing,
and especially upon those which referred to the crowns of the Empire and
of Poland. The first project was destined to be soon abandoned. It was
reserved neither for Charles nor Philip to divert the succession in
Germany from the numerous offspring of Maximilian; yet it is instructive
to observe the unprincipled avidity with which the prize was sought by
both. Each was willing to effect its purchase by abjuring what were
supposed his most cherished principles. Philip of Spain, whose mission
was to extirpate heresy throughout his realms, and who, in pursuance of
that mission, had already perpetrated more crimes, and waded more deeply
in the blood of his subjects, than monarch had often done before; Philip,
for whom his apologists have never found any defence, save that he
believed it his duty to God rather to depopulate his territories than to
permit a single heretic within their limits--now entered into secret
negotiations with the princes of the Empire. He pledged himself, if they
would confer the crown upon him, that he would withdraw the Spaniards