rable. In an instant, the contagion
of rebellion seized at once the most distant provinces; trade and
commerce are at a standstill, the ships disappear from the harbors,
the artizan abandons his workshop, the rustic his uncultivated fields.
Thousands fled to distant lands, a thousand victims fell on the bloody
field, and fresh thousands prest on. Divine, indeed, must that
doctrine be for which men could die so joyfully. All that was wanting
was the last finishing hand, the enlightened, enterprising spirit, to
seize on this great political crisis, and to mold the offspring of
chance into the ripe creation of wisdom. William the Silent, like a
second Brutus, devoted himself to the great cause of liberty. Superior
to all selfishness, he resigned honorable offices which entailed on
him objectionable duties, and magnanimously divesting himself of all
his princely dignities, he descended to a state of voluntary poverty,
and became but a citizen of the world. The cause of justice was staked
upon the hazardous game of battle; but the newly raised levies of
mercenaries and peaceful husbandmen were unable to withstand the
terrible onset of an experienced force. Twice did the brave William
lead his dispirited troops against the tyrant, twice was he abandoned
by them, but not by his courage.

Philip II sent as many reenforcements as the dreadful importunity of
his viceroy demanded. Fugitives, whom their country rejected, sought a
new home on the ocean, and turned to the ships of their enemy to
satisfy the cravings both of vengeance and of want. Naval heroes were
now formed out of corsairs, and a marine collected out of piratical
vessels: out of morasses arose a republic. Seven provinces threw off
the yoke at the same time, to form a new, youthful state, powerful by
its waters and its union and despair. A solemn decree of the whole
nation deposed the tyrant, and the Spanish name was erased from all
its laws.

For such acts no forgiveness remained; the republic became formidable,
only because it was impossible for her to retrace her steps. But
factions distracted her within; without, her terrible element, the sea
itself, leaguing with her oppressors, threatened her very infancy with
a premature grave. She felt herself succumb to the superior force of
the enemy, and cast herself a suppliant before the most powerful
thrones of Europe, begging them to accept a dominion which she herself
could no longer protect. At last, but with diffi