ever something in his irony like the bland request of the inquisitor
to the executioner that he would deal with his prisoners gently. There
was about the same result in regard to such a prayer to be expected from
Philip as from the hangman. Even if his criticisms had been uniformly
indulgent, the position of the nobles and leading citizens thus subjected
to a constant but secret superintendence, would have been too galling to
be tolerated. They did not know, so precisely as we have learned after
three centuries, that all their idle words and careless gestures as well
as their graver proceedings, were kept in a noting book to be pored over
and conned by rote in the recesses of the royal cabinet and the royal
mind; but they suspected the espionage of the Cardinal, and they openly
charged him with his secret malignity.

The men who refused to burn their fellow-creatures for a difference in
religious opinion were stigmatized as demagogues; as ruined spendthrifts
who wished to escape from their liabilities in the midst of revolutionary
confusion; as disguised heretics who were waiting for a good opportunity
to reveal their true characters. Montigny, who, as a Montmorency, was
nearly allied to the Constable and Admiral of France, and was in
epistolary correspondence with those relatives, was held up as a
Huguenot; of course, therefore, in Philip's eye, the most monstrous of
malefactors.

Although no man could strew pious reflections and holy texts more
liberally, yet there was always an afterthought even in his most edifying
letters. A corner of the mask is occasionally lifted and the deadly face
of slow but abiding vengeance is revealed. "I know very well," he wrote,
soon after his fall, to Viglius, "that vengeance is the Lord's-God is my
witness that I pardon all the past." In the same letter, nevertheless, he
added, "My theology, however, does not teach me, that by enduring, one is
to enable one's enemies to commit even greater wrongs. If the royal
justice is not soon put into play, I shall be obliged to right myself.
This thing is going on too long-patience exhausted changes to fury. 'Tis
necessary that every man should assist himself as he can, and when I
choose to throw the game into confusion I shall do it perhaps more
notably than the others." A few weeks afterwards, writing to the same
correspondent, he observed, "We shall have to turn again, and rejoice
together. Whatever the King commands I shall do, even were I t