and instigated by the curiosity which Monmouth’s mysterious expressions, and Sheldon’s story, had excited, he consented, though with a fixed determination to show no mercy.  James was not of the number of those, in whom the want of an extensive understanding is compensated by a delicacy of sentiment, or by those right feelings, which are often found to be better guides for the conduct than the most accurate reasoning.  His nature did not revolt, his blood did not run cold, at the thoughts of beholding the son of a brother whom he had loved embracing his knees, petitioning, and petitioning in vain, for life; of interchanging words and looks with a nephew, on whom he was inexorably determined, within forty-eight short hours, to inflict an ignominious death.

In Macpherson’s extract from King James’s “Memoirs,” it is confessed that the king ought not to have seen, if he was not disposed to pardon the culprit; but whether the observation is made by the exiled prince himself, or by him who gives the extract, is in this, as in many other passages of those “Memoirs,” difficult to determine.  Surely if the king had made this reflection before Monmouth’s execution, it must have occurred to that monarch, that if he had inadvertently done that which he ought not to have done, without an intention to pardon, the only remedy was to correct that part of his conduct which was still in his power, and since he could not recall the interview, to grant the pardon.

Pursuant to this hard-hearted arrangement, Monmouth and Grey, on the very day of their arrival, were brought to Whitehall, where they had severally interviews with his majesty.  James, in a letter to the Prince of Orange, dated the following day, gives a short account of both these interviews.  Monmouth, he says, betrayed a weakness which did not become one who had claimed the title of king; but made no discovery of consequence.

Grey was more ingenuous (it is not certain in what sense his majesty uses the term, since he does not refer to any discovery made by that lord), and never once begged his life.  Short as this account is, it seems the only authentic one of those interviews.  Bishop Kennet, who has been followed by most of the modern historians, relates, that “This unhappy captive, by the intercession of the queen dowager, was brought to the king’s presence, and fell presently at his feet, and confessed he deserved to die; but conjured him, with tears in his eyes, not to use him with the severity of justice, and to grant him a life, which he would be ever ready to sacrifice for his service.  He mentioned to him the example of several great princes, who had yielded to the impressions of clemency on the like occasions, and who had never afterwards repented of those acts of generosity and mercy; concluding, in a most pathetical manner, ’Remember, sir, I am your brother’s son, and if you take my life, it is your own blood that you will shed.’  The king asked him several questions, and made him