Thus there was matter for criticism in his use of language.  He was not always careful in the construction of his sentences.  He introduced expressions now and then into his vocabulary which reminded one of his earlier literary efforts.  He used stronger language at times than was necessary, coloring too highly, shading too deeply in his pictorial delineations.  To come to the matter of his narrative, it must be granted that not every reader will care to follow him through all the details of diplomatic intrigues which he has with such industry and sagacity extricated from the old manuscripts in which they had long lain hidden.  But we turn a few pages and we come to one of those descriptions which arrest us at once and show him in his power and brilliancy as a literary artist.  His characters move before us with the features of life; we can see Elizabeth, or Philip, or Maurice, not as a name connected with events, but as a breathing and acting human being, to be loved or hated, admired or despised, as if he or she were our contemporary.  That all his judgments would not be accepted as final we might easily anticipate; he could not help writing more or less as a partisan, but he was a partisan on the side of freedom in politics and religion, of human nature as against every form of tyranny, secular or priestly, of noble manhood wherever he saw it as against meanness and violence and imposture, whether clad in the soldier’s mail or the emperor’s purple.  His sternest critics, and even these admiring ones, were yet to be found among those who with fundamental beliefs at variance with his own followed him in his long researches among the dusty annals of the past.

The work of the learned M. Groen van Prinsterer,—­[Maurice et Barnevelt, Etude Historique.  Utrecht, 1875.]—­devoted expressly to the revision and correction of what the author considers the erroneous views of Mr. Motley on certain important points, bears, notwithstanding, such sincere and hearty tribute to his industry, his acquisitions, his brilliant qualities as a historian, that some extracts from it will be read, I think, with interest.

   “My first interview, more than twenty years ago, with Mr. Lothrop
   Motley, has left an indelible impression on my memory.

“It was the 8th of August, 1853.  A note is handed me from our eminent archivist Bakhuyzen van den Brink.  It informs me that I am to receive a visit from an American, who, having been struck by the analogies between the United Provinces and the United States, between Washington and the founder of our independence, has interrupted his diplomatic career to write the life of William the First; that he has already given proof of ardor and perseverance, having worked in libraries and among collections of manuscripts, and that he is coming to pursue his studies at the Hague.

“While I am surprised and delighted with this intelligence, I am informed that Mr. Motley himself is waiting for my answer.  My eagerness