neglect the private affairs which his devotion to the Netherland cause
had thrown into great confusion. The Landgrave, too, whose advice he had
asked, had strongly urged him not to "dip his fingers into the olla
podrida." The future of the provinces was, in his opinion, so big with
disaster, that the past, with all its horrors; under Alva and Requesens,
had only furnished the "preludia" of that which was to ensue. For these
desperate views his main reason, as usual, was the comet; that
mischievous luminary still continuing to cast a lurid glare across the
Landgrave's path. Notwithstanding these direful warnings from a prince
of the Reformation, notwithstanding the "olla podrida" and the "comet,"
Count John had nevertheless accepted the office of Governor of
Gelderland, to which he had been elected by the estates of that province
on the 11th of March. That important bulwark of Holland, Zealand, and
Utrecht on the one side, and of Groningen and Friesland on the other--the
main buttress, in short, of the nascent republic, was now in hands which
would defend it to the last.

As soon as the discussion came up in the states-general on the subject of
the Dort petitions, Orange requested that every member who had formed his
opinions should express them fully and frankly. All wished, however, to
be guided and governed by the sentiments of the Prince. Not a man spoke,
save to demand their leader's views, and to express adhesion in advance
to the course which his wisdom might suggest. The result was a projected
convention, a draft for a religious peace, which, if definitely
established, would have healed many wounds and averted much calamity.
It was not, however, destined to be accepted at that time by the states
of the different provinces where it was brought up for discussion; and
several changes were made, both of form and substance, before the system
was adopted at all. Meantime, for the important city of Antwerp, where
religious broils were again on the point of breaking out, the Prince