hers, and by his own vanity, into an
almost sovereign attitude, saw himself chastised before the world, like
an aspiring lackey, by her in whose favour he had felt most secure. He
found, himself, in an instant, humbled and ridiculous. Between himself
and the Queen it was, something of a lovers' quarrel, and he soon found
balsam in the hand that smote him. But though reinstated in authority, he
was never again the object of reverence in the land he was attempting to
rule. As he came to know the Netherlanders better, he recognized the
great capacity which their statesmen concealed under a plain and
sometimes a plebeian exterior, and the splendid grandee hated, where at
first he had only despised. The Netherlanders, too, who had been used to
look up almost with worship to a plain man of kindly manners, in felt hat
and bargeman's woollen jacket, whom they called "Father William," did not
appreciate, as they ought, the magnificence of the stranger who had been
sent to govern them. The Earl was handsome, quick-witted, brave; but he
was, neither wise in council nor capable in the field. He was intolerably
arrogant, passionate, and revengeful. He hated easily, and he hated for
life. It was soon obvious that no cordiality of feeling or of action
could exist between him and the plain, stubborn Hollanders. He had the
fatal characteristic of loving only the persons who flattered him. With
much perception of character, sense of humour, and appreciation of
intellect, he recognized the power of the leading men in the nation, and
sought to gain them. So long as he hoped success, he was loud in their
praises. They were all wise, substantial, well-languaged, big fellows,
such as were not to be found in England or anywhere else. When they
refused to be made his tools, they became tinkers, boors, devils, and
atheists. He covered them with curses and devoted them to the gibbet. He
began by warmly commending Buys and Barneveld, Hohenlo and Maurice, and
endowing them with every virtue. Before he left the country he had
accused them of every crime, and would cheerfully, if he could, have
taken the life of every one of them. And it was quite the same with
nearly every Englishman who served with or under him. Wilkes and
Buckhurst, however much the objects of his previous esteem; so soon as
they ventured to censure or even to criticise his proceedings, were at
once devoted to perdition. Yet, after minute examination of the record,
public and privat