might be married against their will to foreigners whom they abhorred. Women and children were executed for the crime of assisting their fugitive husbands and parents with a penny in their utmost need, and even for consoling them with a letter in their exile. Such was the regular course of affairs as administered by the Blood-Council. The additional barbarities committed amid the rack and ruin of those blazing and starving cities, are almost beyond belief; unborn infants were torn from the living bodies of their mothers; women and children were violated by thousands; and whole populations burned and hacked to pieces by soldiers in every mode which cruelty, in its wanton ingenuity, could devise. Such was the administration of which Vargas affirmed at its close that too much mercy, -'nimia misericordia,'-had been its ruin."

In this appalling condition of his native country, the Prince of Orange was not idle. Long ago would he have suffered death by the most exquisite tortures that men or devils could have devised, if Alva could only have laid hands upon him. But the Prince was too wise a man to be entrapped. At the council-board and on the battle field his services were ever ready to aid his afflicted fellow-countrymen, and during these dismal years, he was the only star of hope that beamed above their horizon.

Sated with plunder and slaughter, Alva left the Netherlands loaded with the curses and frantic hate of a whole nation. The short administration of his successor, the Grand Requesens, was characterized by no very important events, except the Antwerp "fury." The year 1576 witnessed the proud and beautiful Antwerp, the queen city of Europe, attacked without warning and without provocation by the Spanish garrison which held its citadel. For three days and nights the tide of slaughter ran checked. Eight thousand of its citizens were murdered, untold wealth was plundered, its magnificent public buildings were destroyed, and the glory of the city forever obliterated. Justice demands that

un

the Spanish government should be ac quitted of the blame of this transaction. It was a private enterprise of the soldiers, stimulated, not by religious enthusiasm, but solely by the love of plunder.

The Reformed religion, despite the bloody persecution of the Duchess Margaret and Alva, had made such rapid progress, that Orange, as the representative of all who opposed royal and ecclesiastical tyranny, was now enabled to present a formidable resistance. Requesens was succeeded in 1576 by Don John of Austria, the hero of Lepanto, and illegitimate son of Charles V. The conciliatory policy adopted at first by Don John, the able negotiations and consummate statesmanship of Orange, Don John's faithlessness, his campaigns in the Netherlands, his brilliant success and sad death are all admirably told. Alexander of Parma, the first captain of the age, succeeded to the post left vacant by the death of Don John. Though Alexander governed with a strong hand, and with infinitely more ability than any of his predecessors, he came too late to arrest the tide of events in the Netherlands; and it was his fate to witness the

severance of a nation and the birth of a republic." The causes, indeed, of the separation had long been at work, but the idea of an independent State, as a remedy of their evils, seems to have been slow in dawning, even upon the sagacious mind of Orange. He struggled long and manfully to effect the union of the seventeen Provinces, but without success. From numerous causes, the most prominent of which were mutiny, jealousy, and an obstinate attachment to the Romish religion, he found it impossible to detach the Flemish Provinces from the

government of Spain. He lived long enough, however, to see the Seven United Provinces of Holland independent in all but in name. His stirring, eventful, and heroic life was suddenly brought to a close on the 10th of July, 1584, (after three previous unsuccessful attempts to assassinate him,) by the hand of the assassin Gérard, hired by the Pope and Philip. Magnanimous monarch, who instigated and rewarded;-glorious and "holy"

church, that encouraged, by her prayers and benedictions, so foul a deed!

With the death of the Prince of Orange, Mr. Motley brings his history to a close. The independence of the Dutch Republic was virtually accomplished, though not formally acknowledged till some years afterwards.

It is, doubtless, a fortunate circumstance for his future fame, that the author has chosen so interesting a period upon which to base his first contribution to historic literature. So admirably is the work done, that the attention and interest of the reader are at once gained, and maintained unimpaired to the last. Let us briefly point out some of what we conceive to be the excellencies of the work. First, then, the industry and care of the author in ascertaining the truth seems to be sufficiently assured, from the numerous citations of contemporaneous authorities. The work bears internal evidence of its truthfulness. The great test of truth, says a distinguished writer, is CONSISTENCY in all its parts, --and of this quality, Mr. Motley's book gives abundant evidence. That he is, in the main, impartial, we have no doubt. Not even Philip, and none, except Alva, of the brood of Spanish harpies, that so long plundered and scourged the Netherlands are painted in colours altogether black. If he errs in this respect, it is in favour of the Prince of Orange. The Prince seems to be as great a favourite with our author as his descendant and successor, afterwards king of England, is with Lord Macaulay. Mr. Motley represents him as a hero of romance, and attributes to him only the noblest qualities, and those in their richest perfection. He makes him the greatest statesman, writer, orator, and general of his age. Now, we do not doubt that Mr. Motley's general estimate of William's character is correct. He was unquestionably the profoundest statesman of his age, as statesmanship then went,-his powers as an orator and writer are attested by the almost absolute sway he possessed in the States-General. He may have been a great general, but if he was, he was al

most uniformly an unsuccessful one on the field.

We do not recollect in the whole work, (three volumes of 600 pages each,) seeing the slightest fault or blemish attributed to the Prince, but the following incident related in Vol. 3d, page 289, will show that he was guilty of a little piece of Jesuitism, scarcely to be expected in a man of so exalted a character. In the contest for supremacy between the adherents of the Prince and Philip in the city of Ghent, one Ryhove, an ardent republican, proposed to the Prince the violent seizure and expulsion of the leaders of the opposing party, and asked his advice and his aid in accomplishing the object. The Prince neither encouraged nor discouraged the scheme; intending, as Mr. Motley admits, if Ryhove should prove successful, to avow his knowledge and approval of the act, but if he should fail, to disavow the whole proceeding. It were, however, an envious task to point out spots in a character so noble and pure.

In the delineation of character Mr. Motley is exceedingly happy. The profound dissimulation of Philip, the supple and patient Jesuitism of Granvelle, the arrogant vanity of Egmont, the unapproachable malignity and cruelty of Alva, the impetuous bravery and chivalry of Don John, and above all, the calm and intrepid heroism of Orange are all admirably drawn. The author never leaves out of sight the grand fact-the leading idea of the revolt of the Netherlands, (as, indeed, it would be impossible for a faithful chronicler to do) viz: that it was the deadly struggle of a brave, patient and oppressed people with a bloodly and remorseless tyranny, for the privilege of worshipping God according to their own conviction of truth. pared with our national struggle for civil liberty, theirs for moral freedom rises superior in moral grandeur. The story of the Netherlands is pregnant with instruction and warning to all who love civil and religious liberty.

Com

The style of these volumes is singularly clear and transparent. As the best mirror reflects the image so truly, that

we suspect not its existence, so that style is best which conveys the meaning so plainly that we pay no attention to the words in which it is conveyed. We neither see nor expect the existence of a medium between the author's mind and our own, but seem to receive the meaning by actual contrast (so to speak) of mind with mind. Mr. Motley's style approaches near to this excellence. It is generally uniform and equable, and with few attempts at fine or eloquent writing. As a specimen, we select at random his account of the execution of Count Egmont, vol. 2d, page 203 et seq.

"During the night, the necessary preparations for the morning tragedy had been made in the great square of Brussels. It was the intention of government to strike terror to the heart of the people by the exhibition of an impressive and appalling spectacle. The absolute and irresponsible destiny which ruled them was to be made manifest by the immolation of these two men, so elevated by rank, powerful connexion and service.

"The effect would be heightened by the character of the locality where the gloomy show was to be presented. The great square of Brussels had always a striking and theatrical aspect. Its architectural effects, suggesting in some degree the meretricious union between Oriental and a corrupt Grecian art, accomplished in the medieval midnight, have amazed the eyes of many generations. The splendid Hotel de Ville, with its daring spire and elaborate front, ornamented one side of the place; directly opposite was the graceful, but incoherent facade of the Brood-huis, now the last earthly resting place of the two distinguished victims, while grouped around these principal buildings rose the fantastic palaces of the Archers, Mariners, and of the other guilds, with their festooned walls and toppling gables bedizened profusely with emblems, statues and quaint decorations. The place had been alike the scene of many a gay tournament, and of many a bloody execution. Gallant knights had contended within its precincts, while bright eyes rained influence from all those picturesque balconies

and decorated windows. Martyrs to religious and political liberty had, upon the same spot, endured agonies which might have roused every stone of its pavement to mutiny or softened them to pity. Here Egmont himself, in happier days, had often borne away the prize of skill or valour, the cynosure of every eye; and hence, almost in the noon of life illustrated by many brilliant actions, he was to be sent by the hand of tyranny, to his great account.

"On the morning of the 5th of June, three thousand Spanish troops were drawn up in battle array around a scaffold which had been erected in the centre of the square. Upon this scaffold, which was covered with black cloth, were placed two velvet cushions, two iron spikes, and a small table. Upon the table was a silver crucifix. The provost-marshal, Spelle, sat on horseback below, with his red wand in his hand, little dreaming that for him a darker doom was reserved than that of which he was now the minister. The executioner was concealed beneath the draperies of the scaffold.

"At eleven o'clock, a company of Spanish soldiers, led by Julian Romero and Captain Salinas, arrived at Egmont's chamber. The Count was ready for them. They were about to bind his hands, but he warmly protested against the indignity, and, opening the folds of his robe, showed them that he had himself shorn off his collars, and made preparation for death. This request was granted. Egmont, with the Bishop by his side, then walked with a steady step the short distance which separated them from the place of execution. Julian Romero and the guard followed him. On his way, he read aloud the fifty-first psalm? 'Hear me cry, O God, and give ear unto my prayer!' He seemed to have selected these Scriptural passages as a proof that, notwithstanding the machinations of his enemies, and the cruel punishment to which they led him, loyalty to his sovereign was as deeply rooted and as religious a sentiment in his bosom as devotion to his God. 'Thou wilt prolong the King's life; and his years as many generations. He shall abide before God for

ever! Oh! prepare mercy and truth, which may preserve him.' Such was the remarkable prayer of the condemned traitor on his way to the block.

"Having ascended the scaffold, he walked across it twrice or thrice. He was dressed in a tabard or robe of red damask, over which was thrown a short black mantle, embroidered in gold. He had a black silk hat, with black and white plumes on his head, and held a handkerchief in his hand. As he strode to and fro, he expressed a bitter regret that he had not been permitted to die, sword in hand, fighting for his country and his king. Sanguine to the last, he passionately asked Romero whether the sentence was really irrevocable, whether a pardon was not even then to be granted. The marshal shrugged his shoulders, murmuring a negative reply. Upon this, Egmont gnashed his teeth together, rather in rage than in despair. Shortly afterward commanding himself again, he threw aside his robe and mantle, and took the badge of the Golden Fleece from his neck. Kneeling then upon one of the cushions, he said the Lord's prayer aloud, and requested the bishop, who knelt by his side, to repeat it thrice. After this the prelate gave him the silver crucifix to kiss, and then pronounced his blessing upon him. This done, the Count rose again to his feet, laid aside his hat and handkerchief, knelt again upon the cushion, drew a little cap over his eyes, and folding his hands together, cried in a loud voice, Lord, into thy hands I commit my spirit!' The executioner then suddenly appeared, and severed his head from his shoulders at a single blow."

While we give to the style of these volumes high praise, we do not consider it faultless. It would, in a work so extended, be an easy but invidious task to point out some verbal inaccuracies. The author sometimes departs from the severe simplicity of the strict historic style. For example, it must be acknowledged that, in the extract above quoted, the figure of "rousing the stones of the pavement to mutiny, or softening them to pity" is rather too extravagant for the calm dignity of the philosophic historian.

He sometimes forgets that he is addressing posterity, and that it is his duty to relate facts, without becoming an advocate or denouncer of particular men, or particular systems of religion or government. Though giving, in the main, an impartial and perspicuous narrative of events in the Netherlands, he occasionally breaks out into a strain of fierce denunciation, with redundance of epithets and turgidness of diction. It is, doubtless, natural that the contemplation of revolting crimes should excite a feeling of indignation, but a question here arises, whether the historian can become the apologist or advocate of men or systems, and still preserve his character of impartiality. And, if this question be decided in the affirmative, the farther question arises, "How may the writer best accomplish this object?" Is it by delivering a "plain, unvarnished tale," or by a direct appeal to the passions of his readers? The powerful but silent eloquence of facts is too much overlooked, and we think that Mr. Motley has erred, though naturally and excusably, in breaking forth, from time to time in impassioned appeals, such as the following:

"The history of Alva's administration in the Netherlands is one of those pictures which strike us almost dumb with wonder. Why has the Almighty suffered such crimes to be perpetrated in His sacred name? Was it necessary that many generations should wade through this blood in order to acquire for their descendants the blessings of civil and religious freedom? Was it necessary that an Alva should ravage a peaceful nation with sword and flame, that desolation should be spread over a happy land, in order that the pure and heroic character of William of Orange should stand forth the more conspicuously, like an antique statue of spotless marble against a stormy sky."

In conclusion, we observe that this work has not received that notice and commendation at the hands of American literary men which it justly deserves. The author has entered upon and pursued with eminent success, the path opened by Prescott and Washington Ir