called diplomatic dissimulation. It is to be feared, notwithstanding her
frequent and vociferous denials, that the robes of the "imperial
votaress" were not so unsullied as could be wished. We know how loudly
Leicester had complained--we have seen how clearly Walsingham could
convict; but Elizabeth, though convicted, could always confute: for an
absolute sovereign, even without resorting to Philip's syllogisms of axe
and faggot, was apt in the sixteenth century to have the best of an
argument with private individuals.

The secret statements of Parma-made, not for public effect, but for
the purpose of furnishing his master with the most accurate information
he could gather as to English policy--are certainly entitled to
consideration. They were doubtless founded upon the statements
of individuals rejoicing in no very elevated character; but those
individuals had no motive to deceive their patron. If they clashed
with the vehement declarations of very eminent personages, it must be
admitted, on the other hand, that they were singularly in accordance with
the silent eloquence of important and mysterious events.

As to Alexander Farnese--without deciding the question whether Elizabeth
and Burghley were deceiving Walsingham and Leicester, or only trying to
delude Philip and himself--he had no hesitation, of course, on his part,
in recommending to Philip the employment of unlimited dissimulation.
Nothing could be more ingenuous than the intercourse between the King and
his confidential advisers. It was perfectly understood among them that
they were always to deceive every one, upon every occasion. Only let
them be false, and it was impossible to be wholly wrong; but grave
mistakes might occur from occasional deviations into sincerity. It was
no question at all, therefore, that it was Parma's duty to delude
Elizabeth and Burghley. Alexander's course was plain. He informed his