His coadjutor, Viglius, was an eminent jurist, an able writer, a sagacious statesman. He had been much employed by the emperor in public affairs, which he managed with a degree of caution that amounted almost to timidity. He was the personal friend of Granvelle, had adopted his views, and carried on with him a constant correspondence, which is among our best sources of information. He was frugal and moderate in his habits, not provoking criticism, like that minister, by his ostentation and irregularities of life. But he was nearly as formidable, from the official powers with which he was clothed, and the dogged tenacity with which he clung to his purposes. He filled the high office of president both of the privy council and of the council of state, and was also keeper of the great seal. It was thus obviously in his power to oppose a great check to the proceedings of the opposite party. That he did thus often thwart them is attested by the reiterated complaints of the duchess. "The president," she tells her brother, "makes me endure the pains of hell by the manner in which he traverses my measures."[612] His real object, like that of Granvelle and of their followers, she says on another occasion, is to throw the country into disorder. They would find their account in fishing in the troubled waters. They dread a state of tranquillity, which would afford opportunity for exposing their corrupt practices in the government.[613] To these general charges of delinquency the duchess added others, of a more vulgar peculation. Viglius, who had taken priest's orders for the purpose, was provost of the church of St. Bavon. Margaret openly accused him of purloining the costly tapestries, the plate, the linen, the jewels, and even considerable sums of money belonging to the church.[614] She insisted on the impropriety of allowing such a man to hold office under the government.