forth his chief action was transferred to the suppression of Protestantism, by endeavoring to circumscribe the legal position which had been won for it in 1609. His chief measure, however, to this end was to hold fast to his own power. For this purpose he labored secretly to prevent Matthias from securing to his cousin Ferdinand the succession in Bohemia and Hungary. He feared, for instance, that Ferdinand would assume the first place in the imperial council, and that his representatives—especially Eggenberg—would, by their greater influence, shove him aside. Ambition, therefore, caused the director of the secret cabinet—for Khlesl had for some years borne this title—to place obstacles in the way of Ferdinand. That the Emperor should have allowed himself to be influenced by this man to delay the determination of the succession may be easily conceived, since a living man does not like to be placed in the ranks of the dead. Matthias should, however, have remembered his own conduct towards his brother, and have acted otherwise.
Ferdinand must quietly bear the ill-will of Khlesl, that he might not offend the Emperor. But the Archduke Maximilian managed his case with more boldness, although, in the year 1615, he had to relax his efforts, as the report was abroad that the Empress was in expectation of issue. When, however, the time of the expected confinement had passed by without the birth of an heir, and the Empress had probably otherwise explained her condition, Maximilian became bolder, and charged the Bishop with inventing this fiction in regard to the Empress, in order to throw confusion into the settlement of the succession. He journeyed to Germany that he might sound for the Catholic electors the key-note in favor of Ferdinand’s election; and he attained his end. He next
