William of Orange was a younger man than when England knew him, and he came as king to reign over what was ever to him a foreign people, as he was to them an unattractive monarch. He was a man of slight and frail body; of calm and passionless nature, capable as few men have been of silence and reserve. His mind worked, as it were, in vacuo, secluded from the atmosphere of tradition, prejudice, emotions, jealousies. It was free from moods and changes, clear, penetrating, determined, masterful. Against no man did he bear a personal grudge, for that would have only deflected his judgment and embarrassed his action. For only two or three men had he any personal affection; that also might have affected the balance of his judgment and the freedom of his action.
His courage was undeniable, his spirit of endurance magnificent, his military talents and his gift of statesmanship brilliant. Perhaps, on the whole, his most valuable characteristic qualities were self-control and a spirit of moderation, which enabled him to warm his hands at other men's fires and to avoid the perils of extremes. His weakness was the gravity of his character, which did not attract the eye or inspire devotion in the ordinary man, and an inevitable want of imagination, which prevented him entering into the feelings of men of a different caste. It would, indeed, have been difficult to find a more vivid contrast between the two men who faced each other in the Prince's room, and who represented those two schools of thought which have ever been in conflict in religion--reason and authority, and those two types of character which have ever collided in life--the phlegmatic and the empassioned.
"What, I pray you, is the reason of your conduct yesterday in the precincts?" asked the Prince at once after formally acknowledging Claverhouse's reverence. "I am informed upon good evidence that you wantonly insulted Lieutenant-Colonel MacKay of the Scots Brigade, and that you invited him to a duel, and that when he, as became an officer of judgment and piety, as well as of high courage, declined to join with you in a foolish and illegal act, that you called him a coward. Have I been rightly informed?
"Then that point is settled as I expected, and in order that you may not make any mistake on this matter I will add, though I am not obliged to do so, that Colonel MacKay did not condescend to inform against you. The scandal was public enough to come from various quarters, and now to my chief question, have you anything to say in your defence?"