ers of the Empire, or before the Knights of the
Golden Fleece. In the latter case, he claimed the right, under the
statutes of that order, to be placed while the trial was pending, not in
a solitary prison, as had been the fate of Egmont and of Horn, but under
the friendly charge and protection of the brethren themselves. The letter
was addressed to the procurator-general, and a duplicate was forwarded to
the Duke.

From the general tenor of the document, it is obvious both that the
Prince was not yet ready to throw down the gauntlet to his sovereign, nor
to proclaim his adhesion to the new religion: Of departing from the
Netherlands in the spring, he had said openly that he was still in
possession of sixty thousand florins yearly, and that he should commence
no hostilities against Philip, so long as he did not disturb him in his
honor or his estates. Far-seeing politician, if man ever were, he knew
the course whither matters were inevitably tending, but he knew how much
strength was derived from putting an adversary irretrievably in the
wrong. He still maintained an attitude of dignified respect towards the
monarch, while he hurled back with defiance the insolent summons of the
viceroy. Moreover, the period had not yet arrived for him to break
publicly with the ancient faith. Statesman, rather than religionist, at
this epoch, he was not disposed to affect a more complete conversion than
the one which he had experienced. He was, in truth, not for a new
doctrine, but for liberty of conscience. His mind was already expanding
beyond any dogmas of the age. The man whom his enemies stigmatized as
atheist and renegade, was really in favor of toleration, and therefore,
the more deeply criminal in the eyes of all religious parties.

Events, personal to himself, were rapidly to place him in a position from
which he might enter the combat with honor.

His character had already been attacked, his property threatened with
confiscation. His closest ties of family were now to be severed by the
hand of the tyrant. His eldest child, the Count de Buren, torn from his
protection, was to be carried into indefinite captivity in a foreign
land. It was a remarkable oversight, for a person of his sagacity, that,
upon his own departure from the provinces, he should leave his son, then
a boy of thirteen years, to pursue his studies at the college of Louvain.
Thus exposed to the power of the government, he was soon seized as a
hostage for the