Lorraine argued that, to permit the Reformed to have their temples and the right of public worship was to approve of their “idolatry,” which the king could not do without the risk of eternal damnation.[143] He denied the loyalty of the petitioners, “who are obedient only on condition that the king should be of their opinion and their sect, or at least approves of it.” He gloried in the animosity of the Huguenots, adding (as if aside) “there are twenty-two of their libels against me now on my table, and I intend to preserve them very carefully.” In conclusion he called for the severest measures against such “of the religion” as should take up arms; but as for those who went unarmed to the sermon, sang psalms, and kept away from mass, he did not advise their punishment, seeing that all severity hitherto had been useless. He even expressed regret that they should have been so cruelly treated, and offered his life if that could bring the stray sheep back to the fold. He ended with an exhortation to the clergy to reform themselves, and desired that the bishops and others should inquire into the abuses of the Church and report thereon to the king. Of good words and good resolutions the cardinal always had an ample store upon which he could draw at will. They were mere counters with which to play the game of politics. The discussion, which also embraced the subject of the tumult of Amboise, the severity of the retaliation, and the alarming increase of the royal body-guard (which was denounced in nearly the same terms as our ancestors complained of a standing army), resulted in a decision to convene, first, the States-General, and, afterward, a national council, to decide upon the religious faith of the French people. The King of Spain remonstrated through his embassador against the meeting of the States, on the ground that it would “puff up the Huguenots;” and offered his aid to chastise them. But money was wanted, and the court was prepared to make any temporary sacrifice in order to procure supplies. The Venetian embassador saw the importance of this official recognition of the Reformed party. “Either their desires will be satisfied,” he says, “or else, if any attempt is made to keep them obedient to the pope, the court must resort to force, shed pitilessly the blood of the nobility, divide the kingdom into two parties, and come to a civil war, which will destroy both country and religion.... Religious changes always lead the way to political changes;”[144] an assertion which is only partially true. Political and religious changes, when national and not merely personal, are produced by the operation of similar causes; and which change shall come first depends upon circumstances that appear to vary in every case. In 1560 the Venetian embassador certainly had not sufficient data from which to draw so sweeping a conclusion. The court saw no danger in the proposed assemblies, and writs were issued for the States-General to meet in