etz, Lord of
Grobbendonck, that learned Frisian, Aggeus van Albada, with seven other
wise men, as envoys from the states-general: There were their Serene
Highnesses the Elector and Archbishops of Cologne and Treves, with the
Bishop of Wurtzburg. There was also a numerous embassy from his Imperial
Majesty, with Count Otto de Schwartzenburg at its head.

Here then were holiness, serenity, dignity, law, and learning in
abundance. Here was a pope 'in posse', with archbishops, princes, dukes,
jurisconsults, and doctors of divinity 'in esse', sufficient to remodel a
world, if worlds were to be remodelled by such instruments. If protocols,
replications, annotations, apostilles, could heal a bleeding country,
here were the physicians to furnish those drugs in unlimited profusion.
If reams of paper, scrawled over with barbarous technicalities, could
smother and bury a quarrel which had its origin in the mutual antagonism
of human elements, here were the men to scribble unflinchingly, till the
reams were piled to a pyramid. If the same idea presented in many aspects
could acquire additional life, here were the word-mongers who, could
clothe one shivering thought in a hundred thousand garments, till it
attained all the majesty which decoration could impart. In truth, the
envoys came from Spain, Rome, and Vienna, provided with but two ideas.
Was it not a diplomatic masterpiece, that from this frugal store they
could contrive to eke out seven mortal months of negotiation? Two
ideas--the supremacy of his Majesty's prerogative, the exclusive exercise
of the Roman Catholic religion--these were the be-all and the end-all of
their commission. Upon these two strings they were to harp, at least till
the walls of Maestricht had fallen. The envoys did their duty well; they
were sent to enact a solemn comedy, and in the most stately manner did
they walk through their several parts. Not that the King was belligerent;
on, the contrary, he was heartily weary of the war. Prerogative was
weary--Romanism was weary--Conscience was weary--the Spirit of Freedom
was weary but the Prince of Orange was not weary. Blood and treasure had
been pouring forth so profusely during twelve flaming years, that all but
that one tranquil spirit were beginning to flag.

At the same time, neither party had more disposition to concede than
stomach to fight. Certainly the royal party had no inclination to yield.
The King had granted easy terms to the Walloons, because u