promised, on departing, to return in forty days. He hoped as his reward,
he said, to be made bishop of Utrecht. "That will be a little above your
calibre," replied Barneveld. Forty days was easily said, and the States
consented to the additional delay.

During his absence there was much tedious discussion of minor matters,
such as staple rights of wine and cloths, regulations of boundaries,
removal of restrictions on trade and navigation, passports, sequestered
estates, and the like; all of which were subordinate to the all-important
subjects of India and Religion, those two most tender topics growing so
much more tender the more they were handled as to cause at last a shiver
whenever they were approached. Nevertheless both were to be dealt with,
or the negotiations would fall to the ground.

The States felt convinced that they would fall to the ground, that they
had fallen to the ground, and they at least would not stoop to pick them
up again.

The forty days passed away, but the friar never returned. April and May
came and went, and again the armistice expired by its own limitation.
The war party was disgusted with the solemn trifling, Maurice was
exasperated beyond endurance, Barneveld and the peace men began to find
immense difficulty in confronting the gathering storm.

The prince, with difficulty, consented to a prolongation of the armistice
for two months longer; resolute to resume hostilities should no accord be
made before the end of July. The Advocate, with much earnestness, and
with more violence than was habitual with him, insisted on protracting
the temporary truce until the end of the year. The debates in the
States-General and the state-council were vehement; passion rose to