cause of my consideration for the good of
the States, and of yourself in particular, whom I have always favoured
and cherished, as I have done others of your house on many occasions."

The king concluded his lecture by saying, that after his ambassadors had
fulfilled their promise, and had spoken the last word of their master at
the Hague, he should leave Maurice and the States to do as they liked.

"But I desire," he said, "that you and the States should not do that
wrong to yourselves or to me as to doubt the integrity of my counsels nor
the actions of my ambassadors: I am an honest man and a prince of my
word, and not ignorant of the things of this world. Neither the States
nor you, with your adherents, can permit my honour to be compromised
without tarnishing your own, and without being branded for ingratitude. I
say not this in order to reproach you for the past nor to make you
despair of the future, but to defend the truth. I expect, therefore, that
you will not fall into this fault, knowing you as I do. I pay more heed
to what you said in your letter than in all Lambert's fine talk, and you
will find out that nobody wishes your prosperity and that of the States
more sincerely than I do, or can be more useful to you than I can."

[I have abbreviated this remarkable letter, but of course the text
of the passages cited is literally given. J.L.M.]

There could be but little doubt in the mind of Prince Maurice, after this
letter had been well pondered, that Barneveld had won the game, and that
the peace party had triumphed.

To resume the war, with the French king not merely neutral but angry and
covertly hostile, and with the sovereign of Great Britain an almost open
enemy in the garb of an ally, might well seem a desperate course.

And Maurice, although strongly opposed to the truce, and confident in his
opinions at this crisis, was not a desperado.

He saw at once the necessity of dismounting from the high horse upon
which, it must be confessed, he had been inclined for more rough-riding
of late than the situation warranted. Peace was unattainable, war was
impossible, truce was inevitable; Barneveld was master of the field.

The prince acquiesced in the result which the letter from the French king
so plainly indicated. He was, however, more incensed than ever against
Barneveld; for he felt himself not only checkmated but humiliated by the
Advocate, and believed him a traitor, who was selling the republi