Barneveld had just hopes from the Commons of Great Britain, if the King could be brought to appeal to Parliament.  Once more he sounded the bugle of alarm.  “Day by day the Archdukes are making greater and greater enrolments of riders and infantry in ever increasing mass,” he cried, “and therewith vast provision of artillery and all munitions of war.  Within ten or twelve days they will be before Julich in force.  We are sending great convoys to reinforce our army there.  The Prince of Neuburg is enrolling more and more troops every day.  He will soon be master of Mulheim.  If the King of Great Britain will lay this matter earnestly to heart for the preservation of the princes, electors, and estates of the religion, I cannot doubt that Parliament would cooperate well with his Majesty, and this occasion should be made use of to redress the whole state of affairs.”

It was not the Parliament nor the people of Great Britain that would be in fault when the question arose of paying in money and in blood for the defence of civil and religious liberty.  But if James should venture openly to oppose Spain, what would the Count of Gondemar say, and what would become of the Infanta and the two millions of dowry?

It was not for want of some glimmering consciousness in the mind of James of the impending dangers to Northern Europe and to Protestantism from the insatiable ambition of Spain, and the unrelenting grasp of the Papacy upon those portions of Christendom which were slipping from its control, that his apathy to those perils was so marked.  We have seen his leading motives for inaction, and the world was long to feel its effects.

“His Majesty firmly believes,” wrote Secretary Winwood, “that the Papistical League is brewing great and dangerous plots.  To obviate them in everything that may depend upon him, My Lords the States will find him prompt.  The source of all these entanglements comes from Spain.  We do not think that the Archduke will attack Julich this year, but rather fear for Mulheim and Aix-la-Chapelle.”

But the Secretary of State, thus acknowledging the peril, chose to be blind to its extent, while at the same time undervaluing the powers by which it might be resisted.  “To oppose the violence of the enemy,” he said, “if he does resort to violence, is entirely impossible.  It would be furious madness on our part to induce him to fall upon the Elector-Palatine, for this would be attacking Great Britain and all her friends and allies.  Germany is a delicate morsel, but too much for the throat of Spain to swallow all at once.  Behold the evil which troubles the conscience of the Papistical League.  The Emperor and his brothers are all on the brink of their sepulchre, and the Infants of Spain are too young to succeed to the Empire.  The Pope would more willingly permit its dissolution than its falling into the hands of a prince not of his profession.  All that we have to do in this conjuncture is to attend the best we can to our own affairs, and afterwards to strengthen the good alliance existing among us, and not to let ourselves be separated by the tricks and sleights of hand of our adversaries.  The common cause can reckon firmly upon the King of Great Britain, and will not find itself deceived.”