bly
called by the old Dutch burghers, who were ever prone to familiarize
names, having never been equalled by any successor. He was, in fact, the
very man fitted by Nature to retrieve the desperate fortunes of her
beloved province, had not the fates, those most potent and unrelenting
of all ancient spinsters, destined them to inextricable confusion.

To say merely that he was a hero would be doing him great injustice: he
was in truth a combination of heroes; for he was of a sturdy, raw-boned
make like Ajax Telamon, with a pair of round shoulders that Hercules
would have given his hide for (meaning his lion's hide) when he
undertook to ease old Atlas of his load. He was, moreover, as Plutarch
describes Coriolanus, not only terrible for the force of his arm, but
likewise of his voice, which sounded as though it came out of a barrel;
and, like the self-same warrior, he possessed a sovereign contempt for
the sovereign people, and an iron aspect which was enough of itself to
make the very bowels of his adversaries quake with terror and dismay.
All this martial excellency of appearance was inexpressibly heightened
by an accidental advantage with which I am surprised that neither Homer
nor Virgil have graced any of their heroes. This was nothing less than a
wooden leg, which was the only prize he had gained in bravely fighting
the battles of his country, but of which he was so proud that he was
often heard to declare he valued it more than all his other limbs put
together; indeed, so highly did he esteem it that he had it gallantly
enchased and relieved with silver devices, which caused it to be related
in divers histories and legends that he wore a silver leg.

Like that choleric warrior Achilles, he was somewhat subject to
extempore bursts of passion, which were rather unpleasant to his
favorites and attendants, whose perceptions he was apt to quicken, after
the manner of his illustrious imitator, Peter the Great, by anointing
their shoulders with his walking-staff.

He was, in fact, the very reverse of his predecessors, being neither
tranquil and inert like Walter the Doubter, nor restless and fidgeting
like William the Testy, but a man of such uncommon activity and decision
of mind that he never sought nor accepted the advice of others,
depending bravely upon his single head, as would a hero of yore upon his
single arm, to carry him through all difficulties. To tell the simple
truth, he wanted nothing more to complete hi