ntained by
most of those present: In the year 1586 this difference in dogma had not
arisen, and as the large majority of the people at the Hague, including
nearly all those of rank and substance, were of the Remonstrant
persuasion, they naturally found it not agreeable to be sent out of the
church by a small minority. But Maurice chose to settle the question very
summarily. His father had been raised to power by the strict Calvinists,
and he meant to stand by those who had always sustained William the
Silent. "For this religion my father lost his life, and this religion
will I defend," said he.

"You hold then," said Barneveld, "that the Almighty has created one child
for damnation and another for salvation, and you wish this doctrine to be
publicly preached."

"Did you ever hear any one preach that?" replied the Prince.

"If they don't preach it, it is their inmost conviction," said the other.
And he proceeded to prove his position by copious citations.

"And suppose our ministers do preach this doctrine, is there anything
strange in it, any reason why they should not do so?"

The Advocate expressed his amazement and horror at the idea.

"But does not God know from all eternity who is to be saved and who to be
damned; and does He create men for any other end than that to which He
from eternity knows they will come?"

And so they enclosed themselves in the eternal circle out of which it was
not probable that either the soldier or the statesman would soon find an
issue.

"I am no theologian," said Barneveld at last, breaking off the
discussion.

"Neither am I," said the Stadholder. "So let the parsons come together.
Let the Synod assemble and decide the question. Thus we shall get out of
all this."

Next day a deputation of the secessionists waited by appointment on
Prince Maurice. They found him in the ancient mediaeval hall of the
sovereign counts of Holland, and seated on their old chair of state. He
recommended them to use caution and moderation for the present, and to go
next Sunday once more to Ryswyk. Afterwards he pledged himself that they
should have a church at the Hague, and, if necessary, the Great Church
itself.

But the Great Church, although a very considerable Catholic cathedral
before the Reformation, was not big enough now to hold both Henry Rosaeus
and John Uytenbogaert. Those two eloquent, learned, and most pugnacious
divines were the respective champions in the pulpit of the opposing
p