No one sat at the table but his Majesty and themselves, and they all kept their hats on their heads.  The King was hospitable, gracious, discursive, loquacious, very theological.

He expressed regret for the death of the King of France, and said that the pernicious doctrine out of which such vile crimes grew must be uprooted.  He asked many questions in regard to the United Netherlands, enquiring especially as to the late commotions at Utrecht, and the conduct of Prince Maurice on that occasion.  He praised the resolute conduct of the States-General in suppressing those tumults with force, adding, however, that they should have proceeded with greater rigour against the ringleaders of the riot.  He warmly recommended the Union of the Provinces.

He then led the conversation to the religious controversies in the Netherlands, and in reply to his enquiries was informed that the points in dispute related to predestination and its consequences.

“I have studied that subject,” said James, “as well as anybody, and have come to the conclusion that nothing certain can be laid down in regard to it.  I have myself not always been of one mind about it, but I will bet that my opinion is the best of any, although I would not hang my salvation upon it.  My Lords the States would do well to order their doctors and teachers to be silent on this topic.  I have hardly ventured, moreover, to touch upon the matter of justification in my own writings, because that also seemed to hang upon predestination.”

Thus having spoken with the air of a man who had left nothing further to be said on predestination or justification, the King rose, took off his hat, and drank a bumper to the health of the States-General and his Excellency Prince Maurice, and success to the affair of Cleve.

After dinner there was a parting interview in the gallery.  The King, attended by many privy councillors and high functionaries of state, bade the commissioners a cordial farewell, and, in order to show his consideration for their government, performed the ceremony of knighthood upon them, as was his custom in regard to the ambassadors of Venice.  The sword being presented to him by the Lord Chamberlain, James touched each of the envoys on the shoulder as he dismissed him.  “Out of respect to My Lords the States,” said they in their report, “we felt compelled to allow ourselves to be burthened with this honour.”

Thus it became obvious to the States-General that there was but little to hope for from Great Britain or France.  France, governed by Concini and by Spain, was sure to do her best to traverse the designs of the Republic, and, while perfunctorily and grudgingly complying with the letter of the Hall treaty, was secretly neutralizing by intrigue the slender military aid which de la Chatre was to bring to Prince Maurice.  The close alliance of France and Protestantism had melted into air.  On the other hand the new Catholic