nfortunately, too, the insubordination, which was so ripe in the city,
seemed to affect these auxiliaries. A mutiny broke out among the English
troops. Many deserted to Parma, some escaped to England, and it was not
until Morgan had beheaded Captain Lee and Captain Powell, that discipline
could be restored.

And into this scene of wild and deafening confusion came Philip de
Marnix, Lord of Sainte Aldegonde.

There were few more brilliant characters than he in all Christendom. He
was a man, of a most rare and versatile genius. Educated in Geneva at the
very feet of Calvin, he had drunk, like mother's milk, the strong and
bitter waters of the stern reformer's, creed; but he had in after life
attempted, although hardly with success, to lift himself to the height of
a general religious toleration. He had also been trained in the severe
and thorough literary culture which characterised that rigid school. He
was a scholar, ripe and rare; no holiday trifler in the gardens of
learning. He spoke and wrote Latin like his native tongue. He could
compose poignant Greek epigrams. He was so familiar with Hebrew, that he
had rendered the Psalms of David out of the original into flowing Flemish
verse, for the use of the reformed churches. That he possessed the modern
tongues of civilized Europe, Spanish, Italian, French, and German, was a
matter of course. He was a profound jurisconsult, capable of holding
debate against all competitors upon any point of theory or practice of
law, civil, municipal, international. He was a learned theologian, and
had often proved himself a match for the doctors, bishops, or rabbin of
Europe, in highest argument of dogma, creed, or tradition. He was a
practised diplomatist, constantly employed in delicate and difficult
negotiations by William the Silent, who ever admired his genius,
cherished his friendship, and relied upon his character. He was an
eloquent orator, whose memorable harangue, beyond all his other efforts,
at the diet of Worms, had made the German princes hang their heads with
shame, when, taking a broad and philosophical view of the Netherland
matter, he had shown that it was the great question of Europe; that
Nether Germany was all Germany; that Protestantism could not be
unravelled into shreds; that there was but one cause in Christendom--that
of absolutism against national liberty, Papacy against the reform; and
that the seventeen Provinces were to be assisted in building themselves
in