ervant and minister both of the Pope and of Orange, and who now hated
each with equal fervor. The populace, under these influences, rose in its
wrath upon the Catholics, smote all their images into fragments,
destroyed all their altar pictures, robbed them of much valuable
property, and turned all the Papists themselves out of the city. The riot
was so furious that it seemed, says a chronicler, as if all the
inhabitants had gone raving mad. The drums beat the alarm, the
magistrates went forth to expostulate, but no commands were heeded till
the work of destruction had been accomplished, when the tumult expired at
last by its own limitation.

Affairs seemed more threatening than ever. Nothing more excited the
indignation of the Prince of Orange than such senseless iconomachy. In
fact, he had at one time procured an enactment by the Ghent authorities,
making it a crime punishable with death. He was of Luther's opinion, that
idol-worship was to be eradicated from the heart, and that then the idols
in the churches would fall of themselves. He felt too with Landgrave
William, that "the destruction of such worthless idols was ever avenged
by torrents of good human blood." Therefore it may be well supposed that
this fresh act of senseless violence, in the very teeth of his
remonstrances, in the very presence of his envoys, met with his stern
disapprobation. He was on the point of publishing his defence against the
calumnies which his toleration had drawn upon him from both Catholic and
Calvinist. He was deeply revolving the question, whether it were not
better to turn his back at once upon a country which seemed so incapable
of comprehending his high purposes, or seconding his virtuous efforts.
From both projects he was dissuaded; and although bitterly wronged by
both friend and foe, although, feeling that even in his own Holland,
there were whispers against his purity, since his favorable inclinations
towards Anjou had become the general topic, yet he still preserved his
majestic tranquillity, and smiled at the arrows which fell harmless at
his feet. "I admire his wisdom, daily more and more," cried Hubert
Languet; "I see those who profess themselves his friends causing him more
annoyance than his foes; while, nevertheless, he ever remains true to
himself, is driven by no tempests from his equanimity, nor provoked by
repeated injuries to immoderate action."

The Prince had that year been chosen unanimously by the four "member