rode, both members of the most illustrious
houses of the Belgian nobility, who voluntarily placed themselves at the
head of the undertaking. Louis of Nassau, brother of the Prince of
Orange, united many splendid qualities which made him worthy of
appearing on so noble and important a stage. In Geneva, where he
studied, he had imbibed at once a hatred to the hierarchy and a love to
the new religion, and on his return to his native country had not failed
to enlist proselytes to his opinions. The republican bias which his
mind had received in that school kindled in him a bitter hatred of the
Spanish name, which animated his whole conduct and only left him with
his latest breath. Popery and Spanish rule were in his mind identical--
as indeed they were in reality--and the abhorrence which he entertained
for the one helped to strengthen his dislike for the other. Closely as
the brothers agreed in their inclinations and aversions the ways by
which each sought to gratify them were widely dissimilar. Youth and an
ardent temperament did not allow the younger brother to follow the
tortuous course through which the elder wound himself to his object.
A cold, calm circumspection carried the latter slowly but surely to his
aim, and with a pliable subtilty he made all things subserve his
purpose; with a foolhardy impetuosity which overthrew all obstacles,
the other at times compelled success, but oftener accelerated disaster.
For this reason William was a general and Louis never more than an
adventurer; a sure and powerful arm if only it were directed by a wise
head. Louis' pledge once given was good forever; his alliances survived
every vicissitude, for they were mostly formed in the pressing moment of
necessity, and misfortune binds more firmly than thoughtless joy. He
loved his brother as dearly as he did his cause, and for the latter he
died.

Henry of Brederode, Baron of Viane and Burgrave of Utrecht, was
descended from the old Dutch counts who formerly ruled that province as
sovereign princes. So ancient a title endeared him to the people, among
whom the memory of their former lords still survived, and was the more
treasured the less they felt they had gained by the change. This
hereditary splendor increased the self-conceit of a man upon whose
tongue the glory of his ancestors continually hung, and who dwelt the
more on former greatness, even amidst its ruins, the more unpromising
the aspect of his own condition became. Excluded