ve him by murder. The Government had been thoroughly convinced
that the only way to finish the revolt, was to "finish Orange," according
to the ancient advice of Antonio Perez. The mask was thrown off. It had
been decided to forbid the Prince bread, water, fire, and shelter; to
give his wealth to the fisc, his heart to the assassin, his soul, as it
was hoped, to the Father of Evil. The rupture being thus complete, it was
right that the "wretched hypocrite" should answer ban with ban, royal
denunciation with sublime scorn. He had ill-deserved, however, the title
of hypocrite, he said. When the friend of government, he had warned them
that by their complicated and perpetual persecutions they were twisting
the rope of their own ruin. Was that hypocrisy? Since becoming their
enemy, there had likewise been little hypocrisy found in him--unless it
were hypocrisy to make open war upon government, to take their cities, to
expel their armies from the country.

The proscribed rebel, towering to a moral and even social superiority
over the man who affected to be his master by right divine, swept down
upon his antagonist with crushing effect. He repudiated the idea of a
king in the Netherlands. The word might be legitimate in Castillo, or
Naples, or the Indies, but the provinces knew no such title. Philip had
inherited in those countries only the power of Duke or Count--a power
closely limited by constitutions more ancient than his birthright. Orange
was no rebel then--Philip no legitimate monarch. Even were the Prince
rebellious, it was no more than Philip's ancestor, Albert of Austria, had
been towards his anointed sovereign, Emperor Adolphus of Nassau, ancestor
of William. The ties of allegiance and conventional authority being,
severed, it had become idle for the King to affect superiority of lineage
to the man whose family had occupied illustrious stations when the
Habsburgs were obscure squires in Switzerland, and had ruled as sovereign
in the Netherlands before that overshadowing house had ever been named.

But whatever the hereditary claims of Philip in the country, he had
forfeited them by the violation of his oaths, by his tyrannical
suppression of the charters of the land; while by his personal crimes he
had lost all pretension to sit in judgment upon his fellow man. Was a
people not justified in rising against authority when all their laws had
been trodden under foot, "not once only, but a million of times?"--and
was Wi