what they were doing, had now come to a close, and the successor of
Philip II., instead of planting the Inquisition in the provinces, had
recognised them as an independent, sovereign, protestant republic.

In the ratification which he had just signed of the treaty of truce the
most Catholic king had in his turn made a Request. He had asked the
States-General to deal kindly with their Catholic subjects.

That request was not answered with the age and faggot; with the avenging
sword of mercenary legions. On the contrary, it was destined to be
granted. The world had gained something in forty-three years. It had at
least begun to learn that the hangman is not the most appropriate teacher
of religion.

During the period of apparent chaos with which this history of the great
revolt has been occupied, there had in truth been a great reorganization,
a perfected new birth. The republic had once more appeared in the world.

Its main characteristics have been indicated in the course of the
narrative, for it was a polity which gradually unfolded itself out of the
decay and change of previous organisms.

It was, as it were, in their own despite and unwittingly that the United
Provinces became a republic at all.

In vain, after originally declaring their independence of the ancient
tyrant, had they attempted to annex themselves to France and to England.
The sovereignty had been spurned. The magnificent prize which France for
centuries since has so persistently coveted, and the attainment of which
has been a cardinal point of her perpetual policy--the Low Countries and