Doubtless a more convenient arrangement from a military point of view might be imagined than a system of quotas by which each province in a confederacy claimed allegiance and exacted obedience from the troops paid by itself in what was after all a general army.  Still this was the logical and inevitable result of State rights pushed to the extreme and indeed had been the indisputable theory and practice in the Netherlands ever since their revolt from Spain.  To pretend that the proceedings and the oath were new because they were embarrassing was absurd.  It was only because the dominant party saw the extreme inconvenience of the system, now that it was turned against itself, that individuals contemptuous of law and ignorant of history denounced it as a novelty.

But the strong and beneficent principle that lay at the bottom of the Advocate’s conduct was his unflagging resolve to maintain the civil authority over the military in time of peace.  What liberal or healthy government would be possible otherwise?  Exactly as he opposed the subjection of the magistracy by the priesthood or the mob, so he now defended it against the power of the sword.  There was no justification whatever for a claim on the part of Maurice to exact obedience from all the armies of the Republic, especially in time of peace.  He was himself by oath sworn to obey the States of Holland, of Utrecht, and of the three other provinces of which he was governor.  He was not commander-in-chief.  In two of the seven provinces he had no functions whatever, military or civil.  They had another governor.

Yet the exposition of the law, as it stood, by the Advocate and his claim that both troops and Stadholder should be held to their oaths was accounted a crime.  He had invented a new oath—­it was said—­and sought to diminish the power of the Prince.  These were charges, unjust as they were, which might one day be used with deadly effect.

“We live in a world where everything is interpreted to the worst,” he said.  “My physical weakness continues and is increased by this affliction.  I place my trust in God the Lord and in my upright and conscientious determination to serve the country, his Excellency, and the religion in which through God’s grace I hope to continue to the end.”

On the 28th August of a warm afternoon, Barneveld was seated on a porcelain seat in an arbor in his garden.  Councillor Berkhout, accompanied by a friend, called to see him, and after a brief conversation gave him solemn warning that danger was impending, that there was even a rumour of an intention to arrest him.

The Advocate answered gravely, “Yes, there are wicked men about.”

Presently he lifted his hat courteously and said, “I thank you, gentlemen, for the warning.”