republic had been the instructor of mankind.

The youthful Maurice and his cousin Lewis William had so restored
and improved the decayed intelligence of antique strategy, that the
greybeards of Europe became docile pupils in their school. The
mathematical teacher of Prince Maurice amazed the contemporary world with
his combinations and mechanical inventions; the flying chariots of Simon
Stevinua seeming products of magical art.

Yet the character of the Dutch intellect was averse to sorcery. The
small but mighty nation, which had emancipated itself from the tyranny of
Philip and of the Holy Inquisition, was foremost to shake off the fetters
of superstition. Out of Holland came the first voice to rebuke one of
the hideous delusions of the age. While grave magistrates and sages of
other lands were exorcising the devil by murdering his supposed victims,
John Wier, a physician of Grave, boldly denounced the demon which had
taken possession, not of the wizards, but of the judges.

The age was lunatic and sick, and it was fitting that the race which had
done so much for the physical and intellectual emancipation of the world,
should have been the first to apply a remedy for this monstrous madness.
Englishmen and their descendants were drowning and hanging witches in New
England, long after John Wier had rebuked and denounced the belief in
witchcraft.

It was a Zeelander, too; who placed the instrument in the hand of Galileo
by which that daring genius traced the movements of the universe, and
who, by another wondrous invention, enabled future discoverers to study
the infinite life which lies all around us, hidden not by its remoteness
but it's minuteness. Zacharias Jansens of Middelburg, in 1590, invented