ple should have
undertaken to defend a city, which was so weak that no other persons
would have attempted such a thing." Nor was the reflection of Mendoza
less pious. "The sack of Naarden," said that really brave and
accomplished cavalier, "was a chastisement which must be believed to have
taken place by express permission of a Divine Providence; a punishment
for having been the first of the Holland towns in which heresy built its
nest, whence it has taken flight to all the neighboring cities."

It is not without reluctance, but still with a stern determination, that
the historian--should faithfully record these transactions. To extenuate
would be base; to exaggerate impossible. It is good that the world should
not forget how much wrong has been endured by a single harmless nation at
the hands of despotism, and in the sacred name of God. There have been
tongues and pens enough to narrate the excesses of the people, bursting
from time to time out of slavery into madness. It is good, too, that
those crimes should be remembered, and freshly pondered; but it is
equally wholesome to study the opposite picture. Tyranny, ever young and
ever old, constantly reproducing herself with the same stony features,
with the same imposing mask which she has worn through all the ages, can
never be too minutely examined, especially when she paints her own
portrait, and when the secret history of her guilt is furnished by the
confessions of her lovers. The perusal of her traits will not make us
love popular liberty the less.

The history of Alva's administration in the Netherlands is one of those
pictures which strike us almost dumb with wonder. Why has the Almighty
suffered such crimes to be perpetrated in His sacred name? Was it
necessary that many generations should wade through this blood in order
to acquire for their descendants the blessings of civil and religious
freedom? Was it necessary that an Alva should ravage a peaceful nation
with sword and flame--that desolation should be spread over a happy land,
in order that the pure and heroic character of a William of Orange should
stand forth more conspicuously, like an antique statue of spotless marble
against a stormy sky?

After the army which the Prince had so unsuccessfully led to the relief
of Mons had been disbanded, he had himself repaired to Holland. He had
come to Kampen shortly before its defection from his cause. Thence he had
been escorted across the Zuyder Zee to Eukhuyz