and the explanation suggested, that his silence was owing to Sunderland the secretary’s having assured him of his pardon, seems wholly inadmissible.  Such assurances could have their influence no longer than while the hope of pardon remained.  Why, then, did he continue silent, when he found James inexorable?  If he was willing to accuse the earl before he had received these assurances, it is inconceivable that he should have any scruple about doing it when they turned out to have been delusive, and when his mind must have been exasperated by the reflection that Sunderland’s perfidious promises and self-interested suggestions had deterred him from the only probable means of saving his life.

A third, and perhaps the most plausible, interpretation of the words in question is, that they point to a discovery of Monmouth’s friends in England, when, in the dejected state of his mind at the time of writing, unmanned as he was by misfortune, he might sincerely promise what the return of better thoughts forbade him to perform.  This account, however, though free from the great absurdities belonging to the two others, is by no means satisfactory.  The phrase, “one word,” seems to relate rather to some single person, or some single fact, and can hardly apply to any list of associates that might be intended to be sacrificed.  On the other hand, the single denunciation of Lord Delamere, of Lord Brandon, or even of the Earl of Devonshire, or of any other private individual, could not be considered as of that extreme consequence which Monmouth attaches to his promised disclosure.  I have mentioned Lord Devonshire, who was certainly not implicated in the enterprise, and who was not even suspected, because it appears, from Grey’s narrative, that one of Monmouth’s agents had once given hopes of his support; and therefore there is a bare possibility that Monmouth may have reckoned upon his assistance.  Perhaps, after all, the letter has been canvassed with too much nicety, and the words of it weighed more scrupulously than, proper allowance being made for the situation and state of mind of the writer, they ought to have been.  They may have been thrown out at hazard, merely as means to obtain an interview, of which the unhappy prisoner thought he might, in some way or other, make his advantage.  If any more precise meaning existed in his mind, we must be content to pass it over as one of those obscure points of history, upon which neither the sagacity of historians, nor the many documents since made public, nor the great discoverer, Time, has yet thrown any distinct light.

Monmouth and Grey were now to be conveyed to London, for which purpose they set out on the 11th, and arrived in the vicinity of the metropolis on the 13th of July.  In the meanwhile, the queen dowager, who seems to have behaved with a uniformity of kindness towards her husband’s son that does her great honour, urgently pressed the king to admit his nephew to an audience.  Importuned, therefore, by entreaties,