That memorable treaty, ten years before, had been one of the great landmarks of progress, one of the great achievements of William the Silent.

By its provisions, public exercise of the reformed religion had been secured for the two Provinces of Holland and Zeeland, and it had been agreed that the secret practice of those rites should be elsewhere winked at, until such time as the States-General, under the auspices of Philip II., should otherwise ordain.

But was it conceivable that now, after Philip's authority had been solemnly abjured, and the reformed worship had become the public, dominant religion, throughout all the Provinces,--the whole republic should return to the Spanish dominion, and to such toleration as might be sanctioned by an assembly professing loyalty to the most Catholic King?
Buckhurst had repeatedly warned the Queen, in fervid and eloquent language, as to the intentions of Spain.

"There was never peace well made," he observed, "without a mighty war preceding, and always, the sword in hand is the best pen to write the conditions of peace." "If ever prince had cause," he continued, "to think himself beset with doubt and danger, you, sacred Queen, have most just cause not only to think it, but even certainly to believe it.

The Pope doth daily plot nothing else but how he may bring to pass your utter overthrow; the French King hath already sent you threatenings of revenge, and though for that pretended cause I think little will ensue, yet he is blind that seeth not the mortal dislike that boileth deep in his heart for other respects against you.