than the king sent strict orders that nothing was to be changed, and that heresy was to be pursued without mercy or truce. Thousands of industrious citizens were flocking over to England, carrying their looms and their household gods with them, and English Protestants looked more sourly than ever upon Philip and all his works. Philip remained unmoved. The fewer heretics there were in Flanders the easier would it be for him to have his way later. “Kill! kill!” wrote one of Philip’s Spanish friars to him; “we must kill 2000 people all over the States. Your Majesty has the weapon which God has placed in your hand. Draw it, bathe it in the blood of heretics, unless you wish the blood of Christ to cry to God. Moderation touches not your Majesty. Let them seek moderation in their heresies to save their lives.” But Philip was in no hurry; he only told his sister that nothing was to be changed. “You know,” answered she, “how the Spanish Inquisition is hated here. I have already told you that to suppress heresy here I am asked to cast into the flames 60,000 or 70,000 people, and the governors of the provinces will not allow it. They wish to resign, and I also shall be obliged to do so.” Philip’s answer in a few words gives a clearer idea of his character than a volume could do. For months he did not answer at all, and then wrote, “Why all these disquietudes? Are not my intentions understood? Is it believed that I have any intentions than the service of God and the good of the States?” Persecution might crush Latin peoples if continued long enough, but it could not crush the stubborn Dutchmen. There arose now a new element in the strife. Hitherto the motive power had mostly been the great nobles, Catholics nearly all of them, whose object was to prevent the extinction of the political liberties of the States; but now the religious power of resistance was aroused, and the bourgeoisie stood shoulder to shoulder crying aloud that no papist should burn them or theirs for the faith. Many such had fled to England, but the towns of Holland and Zeeland were full of them still. First the landed gentlemen protested, under the leadership of Orange’s brother, Louis of Nassau, and Saint Aldegonde, against the proceedings of the Inquisition; and they bound themselves by solemn oath to follow the recent example of the Neapolitans and withstand the “gang of strangers,” who were seeking to impose the Spanish form of the Holy Office upon them. Then Brederode, the man of highest lineage and most insatiable thirst in Holland, joined them, and together they went, a couple of hundred of them, to hand their solemn protest to the regent. Tears fell from Margaret’s eyes as they filed past her, for she knew now that her brother’s stubborn spirit had met its match, and in future it must be war to the knife. Then the Gargantuan banquet at the hostelry of Culemburg unlocked their tongues still further, and tippling Brederode gave his memorable toast to the