quadruple row of limetrees, reaching out into the thick forest of secular
oaks and beeches--swarming with fallow-deer and alive with the notes of
singing birds--by which the Hague, almost from time immemorial, has been
embowered. The ancient cloisterhouse and church now reconverted to
religious uses--was a plain, rather insipid structure of red brick picked
out with white stone, presenting three symmetrical gables to the street,
with a slender belfry and spire rising in the rear.

Nearly adjoining it on the north-western side was the elegant
and commodious mansion of Barneveld, purchased by him from the
representatives of the Arenberg family, surrounded by shrubberies
and flower-gardens; not a palace, but a dignified and becoming abode
for the first citizen of a powerful republic.

On that midsummer's morning it might well seem that, in rescuing the old
cloister from the military purposes to which it had for years been
devoted, men had given an even more belligerent aspect to the scene than
if it had been left as a foundry. The miscellaneous pieces of artillery
and other fire-arms lying about, with piles of cannon-ball which there
had not been time to remove, were hardly less belligerent and threatening
of aspect than the stern faces of the crowd occupied in thoroughly
preparing the house for its solemn destination. It was determined that
there should be accommodation on the next Sunday for all who came to the
service. An army of carpenters, joiners, glaziers, and other workmen-
assisted by a mob of citizens of all ranks and ages, men and women,
gentle and simple were busily engaged in bringing planks and benches;
working with plane, adze, hammer and saw, trowel and shovel, to complete
the work.

On the next Sunday the Prince attended public worship for the last time