sects; Count John of Nassau, though a passionate Calvinist, did no less;
while the Elector of Saxony, on the other hand, raging and roaring like a
bull of Bashan, was for sacrificing the interest of millions on the altar
of his personal spite. Cursed was his tribe if he forgave the Prince.
He had done what he could at the Diet of Ratisbon to exclude all
Calvinists from a participation in the religious peace of Germany,
and he redoubled his efforts to prevent the extension of any benefits
to the Calvinists of the Netherlands. These determinations had remained
constant and intense.

On the whole, the political appearance of Germany was as menacing as
that of France seemed for a time favorable to the schemes of Orange.
The quarrels of the princes, and the daily widening schism between
Lutherans and Calvinists, seemed to bode little good to the cause of
religious freedom. The potentates were perplexed and at variance, the
nobles lukewarm and discontented. Among the people, although subdivided
into hostile factions, there was more life. Here, at least, were
heartiness of love and hate, enthusiastic conviction, earnestness and
agitation. "The true religion," wrote Count John, "is spreading daily
among the common men. Among the powerful, who think themselves highly
learned, and who sit in roses, it grows, alas, little. Here and there a
Nicodemus or two may be found, but things will hardly go better here than
in France or the Netherlands."

Thus, then, stood affairs in the neighbouring countries. The prospect
was black in Germany, more encouraging in France, dubious, or worse, in
England. More work, more anxiety, more desperate struggles than ever,
devolved upon the Prince. Secretary Brunynck wrote that his illustrious
chief was tolerably well in health, but so loaded with affairs, sorrows,
and travails, that, from morning till night, he had scarcely leisure to