“I thank you for your advices,” he wrote to Carom’ “and I wish from my heart that his Majesty, according to his royal wisdom and clemency towards the condition of this country, would listen only to My Lords the States or their ministers, and not to his own or other passionate persons who, through misunderstanding or malice, furnish him with information and so frequently flatter him.  I have tried these twenty years to deserve his Majesty’s confidence, and have many letters from him reaching through twelve or fifteen years, in which he does me honour and promises his royal favour.  I am the more chagrined that through false and passionate reports and information—­because I am resolved to remain good and true to My Lords the States, to the fatherland, and to the true Christian religion—­I and mine should now be so traduced.  I hope that God Almighty will second my upright conscience, and cause his Majesty soon to see the injustice done to me and mine.  To defend the resolutions of My Lords the States of Holland is my office, duty, and oath, and I assure you that those resolutions are taken with wider vision and scope than his Majesty can believe.  Let this serve for My Lords’ defence and my own against indecent calumny, for my duty allows me to pursue no other course.”

He again alluded to the dreary affair of Vorstius, and told the Envoy that the venation caused by it was incredible.  “That men unjustly defame our cities and their regents is nothing new,” he said; “but I assure you that it is far more damaging to the common weal than the defamers imagine.”

Some of the private admirers of Arminius who were deeply grieved at so often hearing him “publicly decried as the enemy of God” had been defending the great heretic to James, and by so doing had excited the royal wrath not only against the deceased doctor and themselves, but against the States of Holland who had given them no commission.

On the other hand the advanced orthodox party, most bitter haters of Barneveld, and whom in his correspondence with England he uniformly and perhaps designedly called the Puritans, knowing that the very word was a scarlet rag to James, were growing louder and louder in their demands.  “Some thirty of these Puritans,” said he, “of whom at least twenty are Flemings or other foreigners equally violent, proclaim that they and the like of them mean alone to govern the Church.  Let his Majesty compare this proposal with his Royal Present, with his salutary declaration at London in the year 1603 to Doctor Reynolds and his associates, and with his admonition delivered to the Emperor, kings, sovereigns, and republics, and he will best understand the mischievous principles of these people, who are now gaining credit with him to the detriment of the freedom and laws of these Provinces.”

A less enlightened statesman than Barneveld would have found it easy enough to demonstrate the inconsistency of the King in thus preaching subserviency of government to church and favouring the rule of Puritans over both.  It needed but slender logic to reduce such a policy on his part to absurdity, but neither kings nor governments are apt to value themselves on their logic.  So long as James could play the pedagogue to emperors, kings, and republics, it mattered little to him that the doctrines which he preached in one place he had pronounced flat blasphemy in another.