knew Cobham no such minion that could persuade a King that was in want to disburse so great a sum, without great reason and some assurance for his money. I knew the Queen of England lent not her money to the States, but she had Flushing, Brill, and other towns, in assurance for it. She lent not money to the King of France without she had Newhaven for it. Nay, her own subjects, the merchants of London, did not lend her money, without they had their lands to pawn for it. And to show I am not Spanish--as you term me--at this time I had writ a treatise to the King's Majesty of the present state of Spain, and reasons against the Peace." So spake Sir Walter Ralegh, summing up the whole question of policy which was occupying the minds of all men, and drawing attention to the great part which he had played in gaining naval supremacy for England. He then went on to explain that the business which had brought him of late years so much in Cobham's company was of a private nature, concerning the improvement of Cobham's estate, and the purchase of a fee-farm from the Duke of Lennox. He showed that Cobham was a wealthy and prosperous man, not one who could easily be moulded to treason from despair at his poverty. Then another examination of Cobham was read, in which a second time he had exclaimed, "O wretch, O traitor." The trickery is absurdly patent. It resembles a game of chess in which one player as often as his black queen is taken, hastily substitutes another black queen in its place. At this juncture the foreman of the jury, Sir Thomas Fowler, was ill-advised enough to ask a simple question. "I desire to understand of the Court the time of Sir Walter Ralegh's first letter, and of the Lord Cobham's accusation." The Court looked at him in amazement, and Lord Cecil rose to his feet and immediately began a long and cunning speech. "I am divided in myself and at great dispute what to say of this gentleman at the bar. For it is impossible, be the obligations never so great, but the affections of nature and love will show themselves. A former dearness betwixt me and this gentleman tied upon the knot of his virtues, though slacked since by his actions, I cannot but acknowledge; and the most of you know it." The speech was cunning and involved. He made no mention of time; he harped upon his personal sorrow in being obliged to speak against a man whom he once loved; his personal loyalty, which was stronger than his affection had ever been, alone compelled him. Two dates were all that were wanted; they could not be given. So Cecil gave vent to his sorrow. Hypocrisy could go no further.