deed adapted to the real object of upholding the present king's power, by the defeat of the exclu sion, but never likely to take effect for their pre tended purpose of controuling that of his successor, and supported them for that very reason. But such a principle of conduct was too fraudulent to be avowed; nor ought it perhaps, in candour, to be imputed to the majority of the party. To those who acted with good faith, and meant that the re strictions should really take place, and be effectual, surely it ought to have occurred (and to those who most prized the prerogatives of the crown, it ought most forcibly to have occurred), that, in consenting to curtail the powers of the crown, rather than to alter the succession, they were adopting the greater, in order to avoid the lesser evil. The question of, what are to be the powers of the crown? is surely of superior importance to that of, who shall wear it? Those, at least, who consider the royal prerogative as vested in the king, not for his own sake, but for questions as much above the other in dignity, as that of his subjects, must consider the one of these the rights of the public are more valuable than those of an individual. In this view, the prerogatives of the crown are in substance and effect the rights of the people: and these rights of the people were not to be sacrificed to the purpose of preserving the succeswho, on account of his religious persuasion, was sion to the most favoured prince, much less to one justly feared and suspected. In truth, the question between the exclusion and restrictions seems peculiarly calculated to ascertain the different views in which the different parties in this country have "With respect to the execution of those who seen, and perhaps ever will see, the prerogatives were accused of having been more immediately conof the crown. The Whigs, who consider them as cerned in the King's death, that of Scrope, who a trust for the people, a doctrine which the Tones had come in upon the proclamation, and of the themselves, when pushed in argument, will some military officers who had attended the trial, was a times admit, naturally think it their duty rather to violation of every principle of law and justice. But change the manager of the trust, than to impair the the fate of the others, though highly dishonourable subject of it; while others, who consider them as to Monk, whose whole power had arisen from his the right or property of the king, will as naturally zeal in their service, and the favour and confidence act as they would do in the case of any other prop with which they had rewarded him, and not per-erty, and consent to the loss or annihilation of any haps very creditable to the nation, of which many had applauded, more had supported, and almost all had acquiesced in the act, is not certainly to be impated as a crime to the King, or to those of his advisers who were of the Cavalier party. The passion of revenge, though properly condemned both by philosophy and religion, yet when it is excited by injurious treatment of persons justly dear to us, is among the most excusable of human frailties; and if Charles, in his general conduct, had shown stronger feelings of gratitude for services performed to his father, his character, in the eyes of many, would be rather raised than lowered by this example of severity against the regicides."—pp. 22, 23.

this question, it is much to be doubted whether | represented them, as ar expedient, admirably in this singular proceeding has not, as much as any other circumstance, served to raise the character of the English nation in the opinion of Europe in general. He who has read, and still more he who has heard in conversation, discussions upon this subject, by foreigners, must have perceived, that, even in the minds of those who condemn the act, the impression made by it has been far more that of respect and admiration, than that of disgust and horror. The truth is, that the guilt of the action, that is to say, the taking away the life of the King, is what most men in the place of Cromwell and his associates would have incurred. What there is of splendour and of magnanimity in it, I mean the publicity and solemnity of the act, is what few would be capable of displaying. It is a degrading fact to human nature, that even the sending away of the Duke of Gloucester was an instance of generosity almost unexampled in the history of transactions of this nature."-pp. 13-17. Under the Protector, of whom he speaks with singular candour, the government was absolute-and, on his death, fell wholly into the hands of the army. He speaks with contempt and severe censure of Monk for the precipitate and unconditional submission into which he hurried the country at the Restoration; and makes the following candid reflection on the subsequent punishment of the regicides.

part of it, for the purpose of preserving the remain der to him, whom they style the rightful owner. If the people be the sovereign, and the king the delegate, it is better to change the bailiff than to injure the farm; but if the king be the proprietor, it is better the farm should be impaired, nay, part of it destroyed, than that the whole should pass according to the Whigs (not in the case of a Popish over to an usurper. The royal prerogative ought, successor only, but in all cases), to be reduced to such powers as are in their exercise beneficial to the people; and of the benefit of these they will not rashly suffer the people to be deprived, whether the executive power be in the hands of an heredi The mean and unprincipled submission of tary, or of an elected king; of a regent, or of any Charles to Louis XIV., and the profligate pre-other hand, they who consider prerogative with other denomination of magistrate; while, on the tences upon which he was perpetually solicit- reference only to royalty, will, with equal readiing an increase of his disgraceful stipend, are mentioned with becoming reprobation. The delusion of the Popish plot is noticed at some length; and some admirable remarks are introduced with reference to the debates on the expediency of passing a bill for excluding the Duke of York from the Crown, or of imposing certain restrictions on him in the event of his succession. The following observations are distinguished for their soundness, as well as their acuteness; and are applicable, in principle, to every period of our history in which it can be necessary to recur to the true principles of the constitution.

It is not easy to conceive upon what principles

even the Tories could justify their support of the restrictions. Many among them, no doubt, saw the provisions in the same light in which the Whigs

ness, consent either to the extension or the sus pension of its exercise, as the occasional interests of the prince may seem to require.”—pp. 37—39.

Of the reality of any design to assassinate the King, by those engaged in what was called the Rye-House Plot, Mr. Fox appears to entertain considerable doubt, partly on account of the improbability of many of the circum stances, and partly on account of the uniform and resolute denial of Rumbold, the chief of that party, in circumstances when he had ne conceivable inducement to disguise the truth. Of the condemnation of Russell and Sydney, be felt by all friends to liberty at the recol he speaks with the indignation which must lection of that disgraceful proceeding. The following passage is one of the most eloquen

and one of the most characteristic in the whole | quis of Halifax, for having given an opinion volume.

in council that the North American colonies should be made participant in the benefits of the English constitution, gives occasion to the following natural reflection.

that, even at this early period, a question relative "There is something curious in discovering, to North American liberty, and even to North American taxation, was considered as the test of principles friendly or adverse, to arbitary power at home. But the truth is, that among the several controversies which have arisen, there is no other wherein the natural rights of man on the one hand, and the authority of artificial institution on the other, as applied respectively, by the Whigs and Tories, to the English constitution, are so fairly put in issue, two parties is so strongly and distinctly marked." nor by which the line of separation between the

-p. 60.

The introductory chapter is closed by the following profound and important remarks, which may indeed serve as a key to the whole transactions of the ensuing reign.

**Upon evidence such as has been stated, was his great and excellent man (Sydney) condemned to die. Pardon was not to be expected. Mr. Hume says, that such an interference on the part of the King, though it might have been an act of heroic generosity, could not be regarded as an indispensable duty. He might have said, with more propriety, that it was idle to expect that the govern ment, after having incurred so much guilt in order to obtain the sentence, should, by remitting it, rehnquish the object just when it is within its grasp. The same historian considers the jury as highly blameable: and so do I; But what was their guilt, in comparison of that of the court who tried, and of the government who prosecuted, in this infamous cause? Yet the jury, being the only party that can with any colour be stated as acting independ enly of the government, is the only one mentioned by him as blameable. The prosecutor is wholly mited in his censure, and so is the court; this last, not from any tenderness for the judge (who, to do this author justice, is no favourite with him), but lest the odious connection between that branch of the judicature and the government should strike "Whoever reviews the interesting period which the reader too forcibly: For Jefferies, in this in- we have been discussing, upon the principle recom. sance, ought to be regarded as the mere tool and mended in the outset of this chapter, will find, that, strument (a fit one, no doubt) of the prince who from the consideration of the past, to prognosticate had appointed him for the purpose of this and simi- the future, would, at the moment of Charles' delar services. Lastly, the King is gravely intro- mise, be no easy task. Between two persons, one cuced on the question of pardon, as if he had had of whom should expect that the country would reno prior concern in the cause, and were now to main sunk in slavery, the other, that the cause of decide upon the propriety of extending mercy to a freedom would revive and triumph, it would be criminal condemned by a court of judicature! difficult to decide, whose reasons were better sup Nor are we once reminded what that judicature ported, whose speculations the more probable. I was, by whom appointed, by whom influenced, should guess that he who desponded, had looked by whom called upon to receive that detestable more at the state of the public; while he who was evidence, the very recollection of which, even at sanguine, had fixed his eyes more attentively upon the distance of time, fires every honest heart with the person who was about to mount the throne. regration. As well might we palliate the mur- Upon reviewing the two great parties of the nation, ders of Tiberius; who seldom put to death his vic-one observation occurs very forcibly, and that is, as without a previous decree of his senate. The that the great strength of the Whigs consisted in moral of all this seems to be, that whenever a their being able to brand their adversaries as favour proce can, by intimidation, corruption, illegal evi- ers of Popery; that of the Tories (as far as their dence, or other such means, obtain a verdict against strength depended upon opinion, and not merely a subject whom he dislikes, he may cause him to upon the power of the crown), in their finding col be executed without any breach of indispensable our to represent the Whigs as republicans. From day; nay, that it is an act of heroic generosity, if he this observation we may draw a further inference, pres him. I never reflect on Mr. Hume's state-that, in proportion to the rashness of the crown, in ment of this matter but with the deepest regret. Widely as I differ from him upon many other occasons, this appears to me to be the most reprehenshe passage of his whole work. A spirit of adulation towards deceased princes, though in a good measure free from the imputation of interested meanness, which is justly attached to flattery, when apped to living monarchs; yet, as it is less intelbtle with respect to its motives than the other, so it in its consequences still more pernicious to the general interests of mankind. Fear of censure Im contemporaries will seldom have much effect upon mea in situations of unlimited authority. They will too often flatter themselves, that the same power which enables them to commit the cre, will secure them from reproach. The dread of posthumous infamy, therefore, being the only restraint, their consciences excepted, upon the passons of such persons, it is lamentable that this last defence (feeble enough at best), should in any de gree be impaired; and impaired it must be, if not totally destroyed, when tyrants can hope to find in man like Hume, no less eminent for the integrity and benevolence of his heart, than for the depth and soundness of his understanding, an apologist for even their foulest murders."-pp. 48-50.

The uncontrouled tyranny of Charles' administration in his latter days, is depicted with much force and fidelity; and the clamour raised by his other ministers against the Mar

avowing and pressing forward the cause of Popery, and to the moderation and steadiness of the Whigs, in adhering to the form of monarchy, would be the chance of the people of England, for changing an ignominious despotism for glory, liberty, and hap piness."-pp. 66, 67.

James was known to have had so large a share in the councils of his brother, that no one expected any material change of system from his accession. The Church, indeed, it was feared, might be less safe under a professed Catholic; and the severity of his temper might inspire some dread of an aggravated oppression. It seems to be Mr. Fox's great object, in this first chapter, to prove that the object of his early policy was, not to establish the Catholic religion, but to make himself absolute and independent of his Parliament.

The fact itself, he conceives, is completely established by the manner in which his se cret negotiations with France were carried on; in the whole of which, he was zealously served by ministers, no one of whom had the slightest leaning towards Popery, or could ever be brought to countenance the measures which he afterwards pursued in its favour It is made still more evident by the complexior

of his proceedings in Scotland; where the test, which he enforced at the point of the bayonet, was a Protestant test, so much So, indeed, that he himself could not take it,-and the objects of his persecution, dissenters from the Protestant church of England. We consider this point therefore--and it is one of no small importance in the history of this period -as now sufficiently established.

It does not seem necessary to follow the

author into the detail of that sordid and degrading connexion which James was so anxious to establish, by becoming, like his brother, the pensioner of the French monarch. The bitter and dignified contempt with which it is treated by Mr. Fox, may be guessed at from the following account of the first remittance.

very reverse is the fact. But, in one case, they were the tools of a king plotting against his people; in the other, the ministers of a free government acting upon enlarged principles, and with energies which no state that is not in some degree republicun can supply. How forcibly must the contemplation of these men in such opposite situations teach persons engaged in political life, that a free and popular gov ernment is desirable, not only for the public good, but for their own greatness and consideration, for

every object of generous ambition."-pp. 88, 89.

As James, in the outset of his reign, professed a resolution to adhere to the system of government established by his brother, and made this declaration in the first place, to his Scottish Parliament, Mr. Fox thinks it neces sary to take a slight retrospective view of the proceedings of Charles towards that unhappy country; and details, from unquestionable auand atrocious cruelty, as to justify him in thorities, such a scene of intolerant oppression saying, that the state of that kingdom was "a state of more absolute slavery than at that time subsisted in any part of Christendom.”

"Within a very few days from that in which the latter of them had passed, he (the French ambassador) was empowered to accompany the delivery of a letter from his master, with the agreeable news of having received from him bills of exchange to the amount of five hundred thousand livres, to be used in whatever manner might be convenient to the In both Parliaments, the King's revenue King of England's service. The account which Barillon gives of the manner in which this sum was was granted for life, in terms of his demand, received, is altogether ridiculous: the King's eyes without discussion or hesitation; and Mr. were full of tears! and three of his ministers, Ro- Hume is censured with severity, and appachester, Sunderland, and Godolphin, came severently with justice, for having presented his rally to the French ambassador, to express the sense their master had of the obligation, in terms the most lavish. Indeed, demonstrations of grati tude from the King directly, as well as through his ministers, for this supply, were such as, if they had been used by some unfortunate individual, who, with his whole family, had been saved, by the timely succour of some kind and powerful protector, from a gaol and all its horrors, would be deemed rather too strong than too weak. Barillon himself seems surprised when he relates them; but imputes them to what was probably their real cause, to the apprehensions that had been entertained (very unreasonable ones!), that the King of France might no longer choose to interfere in the affairs of Eng land, and, consequently, that his support could not be relied on for the grand object of assimilating this government to his own."-pp. 83, 84.

After this, Lord Churchill is sent to Paris on the part of the tributary King.

"How little could Barillon guess, that he was negotiating with one who was destined to be at the head of an administration which, in a few years, would send the same Lord Churchill, not to Paris to implore Lewis for succours towards enslaving England, or to thank him for pensions to her monarch, but to combine all Europe against him in the cause of liberty to route his armies, to take his towns, to humble his pride, and to shake to the foundation that fabric of power which it had been the business of a long life to raise, at the expense of every sentiment of tenderness to his subjects, and of justice and good faith to foreign nations! It is with difficulty the reader can persuade himself that the Godolphin and Churchill here mentioned, are the same persons who were afterwards, one in the cabinet, one in the field, the great conductors of the war of the Succession. How little do they appear in the one instance! how great in the other: And the investigation of the cause to which this excessive difference is principally owing, will produce a most useful lesson. Is the difference to be attributed to any superiority of genius in the prince whom they served in the latter period of their lives? Queen Anne's capacity appears to have been inferior even to her father's. Did they enjoy, in a greater degree, her favour and confidence? The

readers with a summary of the arguments which he would have them believe were actually used in the House of Commons on both sides of this question. "This misrepre sentation," Mr. Fox observes, "is of no small importance, inasmuch as, by intimating that such a question could be debated at all, and much more, that it was debated with the enlightened views and bold topics of argument with which his genius has supplied him, he gives us a very false notion of the character of the Parliament, and of the times which he is describing. It is not improbable, that if the arguments had been used, which this historian supposes, the utterer of them would it is certain that he would not have been have been expelled, or sent to the Tower; and heard with any degree of attention, or even patience."-p. 142.

The last chapter is more occupied with nar rative, and less with argument and reflection, than that which precedes it. It contains the story of the unfortunate and desperate expe. ditions of Argyle and Monmouth, and of the condemnation and death of their unhappy leaders. Mr. Fox, though convinced that the misgovernment was such as fully to justify resistance by arms, seems to admit that both those enterprises were rash and injudicious. With his usual candour and openness, he ob serves, that "the prudential reasons against resistance at that time were exceedingly strong; and that there is no point, indeed, in human concerns, wherein the dictates of virtue and of worldly prudence are so identi fied, as in this great question of resistance by force to established governments."

had been concerted together, and were in The expeditions of Monmouth and Argyle tended to take effect at the same moment. Monmouth, however, who was reluctantly

forced upon the enterprise, was not so soon | The name of the person to whom this anecdote reready; and Argyle landed in the Highlands lates is not mentioned; and the truth of it may with a very small force before the Duke had sailed from Holland. The details of his irresolute councils and ineffectual marches, are given at far too great length. Though they give occasion to one profound and important remark, which we do not recollect ever to have met with before; but, of the justice of which, most of those who have acted with parties must have had melancholy and fatal experience. It is introduced when speaking of the disunion that prevailed among Argyle's little band of followers.

therefore be fairly considered as liable to that degree of doubt with which men of judgment receive every species of traditional history. Woodrow, however, whose veracity is above suspicion, says he had it from the most unquestionable authority. It is not in itself unlikely; and who is there that would not wish it true? What a satisfactory specin the zenith of his power, envying his victim! tacle to a philosophical mind, to see the oppressor, What an acknowledgment of the superiority of virtue! What an affecting and forcible testimony to the value of that peace of mind, which innocence alone can confer! We know not who this man was; but when we reflect, that the guilt which agonized him was probably incurred for the sake of some vain title, or at least of some increase of wealth, which he did not want, and possibly knew not how to enjoy, our disgust is turned into something like compassion for that very foolish class of men, whom the world calls wise in their generation."

Add to all this," he says, "that where spirit was not wanting, it was accompanied with a degree and species of perversity wholly inexplicable, and which can hardly gain belief from any one whose experience has not made him acquainted with the extreme difficulty of persuading men, who pride pp. 207-209. themselves upon an extravagant love of liberty, On the scaffold he embraced his friends, gave rather to compromise upon some points with those some tokens of remembrance to his son-in-law, who have, in the main, the same views with them- Lord Maitland, for his daughter and grandchildren; selves, than to give power (a power which will in-stript himself of part of his apparel, of which he fallibly be used for their own destruction) to an likewise made presents; and laid his head upon the adversary, of principles diametrically opposite; in block. Having uttered a short prayer, he gave the other words, rather to concede something to a signal to the executioner; which was instantly friend, than every thing to an enemy."-pp. 187,188. obeyed, and his head severed from his body. Such were the last hours, and such the final close, of this The account of Argyle's deportment from great man's life. May the like happy serenity in the time of his capture to that of his exe- such dreadful circumstances, and a death equally cution, is among the most striking passages in glorious, be the lot of all, whom tyranny, of whatthe book; and the mildness and magnanimity ever denomination or description, shall in any age, of his resignation, is described with kindred or in any country, call to expiate their virtues on the scaffold!"-p. 211. feelings by his generous historian. The merits of this nobleman are perhaps somewhat exagerated; for he certainly wanted conduct and decision for the part he had undertaken; and more admiration is expressed at the equanimity with which he went to death, than the recent frequency of this species of heroism can allow us to sympathize with: But the story is finely and feelingly told; and the impression which it leaves on the mind of the reader is equally favourable to the author and to the hero of it. We can only make room for the concluding scene of the tragedy.

Before he left the castle he had his dinner at the usual hour, at which he discoursed not only calmly, but even cheerfully, with Mr. Charteris and others. After dinner he retired, as was his custom, to his bed-chamber, where, it is recorded, that he

slept quietly for about a quarter of an hour. While

he was in bed, one of the members of the council came and intimated to the attendants a desire to speak with him: upon being told that the earl was asleep, and had left orders not to be disturbed, the manager disbelieved the account, which he considered as a device to avoid further questionings. To satisfy him, the door of the bed-chamber was half opened, and he then beheld, enjoying a sweet and tranquil slumber, the man who, by the doom of him and his fellows. was to die within the space of two short hours! Struck with the sight, he hurried out of the room, quitted the castle with the utmost precipitation, and hid himself in the lodgings of an acquaintance who lived near, where he flung him self upon the first bed that presented itself, and had every appearance of a man suffering the most excruciating torture. His friend, who had been ap. prized by the servant of the state he was in. and who naturally concluded that he was ill, offered bim some wine. He refused, saying, 'No, no, that will not help me: I have been in at Argyle, and saw him sleeping as pleasantly as ever man did, within an hour of eternity! But as for me

Rumbold, who had accompanied Argyle in this expedition, speedily shared his fate. Though a man of intrepid courage, and fully aware of the fate that awaited him, he persisted to his last hour in professing his innocence of any design to assassinate King Charles at the Ryehouse. Mr. Fox gives great importance to this circumstance; and seems disposed to conclude, on the faith of it, that the Ryehouse plot itself was altogether a fabrication of the court party, to transfer to their adversaries the odium which had been thrown upon them with as little justice, by the prosecutions for the Popish plot. It does not appear to us, however, that this conclusion is made out in a manner altogether satisfactory.

with as redundant a fulness as that of Aigyle; The expedition of Monmouth is detailea and the character of its leader still more overrated. Though Mr. Fox has a laudable jealousy of kings, indeed, we are afraid he has rather a partiality for nobles. Monmouth ap pears to have been an idle, handsome, presumptuous, incapable youth, with none of the virtues of a patriot, and none of the talents of an usurper; and we really cannot discover upon what grounds Mr. Fox would exalt him into a hero. He was in arms, indeed, against a tyrant; and that tyrant, though nearly connected with him by the ties of blood, sentenced him with unrelenting cruelty to death. He was plunged at once from the heights of fortune, of youthful pleasure, and of ambition, to the most miserable condition of existence,

to die disgracefully after having stooped to ask his life by abject submission! Mr. Fox dwells a great deal too long, we think, both

upon his wavering and unskilful movements | him; and one of them took that opportunity of in before his defeat, and on some ambiguous words in the letter which he afterwards wrote to King James; but the natural tenderness of his disposition enables him to interest us in the description of his after sufferings. The following extract, we think, is quite characteristic of the author.

forming him, that their controversial altercation were not yet at an end; and that upon the scaffold, he would again be pressed for more explicit and satisfactory declarations of repentance. When ar. rived at the bar, which had been put up for the pur pose of keeping out the multitude, Monmouth descended from the carriage, and mounted the scaffold with a firm step, attended by his spiritual assistants. The sheriffs and executioners were al ready there. The concourse of spectators was in accounts, never was the general compassion more affectingly expressed. The tears, sighs, and groans, which the first sight of this heart-rending spectacle produced, were soon succeeded by an universal and awful silence; a respectful attention, and affectionate anxiety, to hear every syllable that should pass the lips of the sufferer. The Duke began by saying he should speak little; he came to die; and be should die a Protestant of the Church of England. Here he was interrupted by the assistants, and told, that if he was of the Church of England, he must acknowledge the doctrine of Non-resistance to be true. In vain did he reply, that, if he acknowledged the doctrine of the church in general, it included all: they insisted he should own that doctrine particularly with respect to his case, and urged much more concerning their favourite point; upon which, however, they obtained nothing but a repetition, in substance, of former answers.

"In the mean while, the Queen Dowager, who seems to have behaved with a uniformity of kind-numerable, and, if we are to credit traditional ness towards her husband's son that does her great nonour, urgently pressed the King to admit his nephew to an audience. Importuned therefore by entreaties, 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 inex. orably determined, within forty-eight hours, to inflict an ignominious death.

"In Macpherson's extract from King James' 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 cution, 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." pp. 258, 259.

had made this reflection before Monmouth's exe

Being sentenced to die in two days, he made a humble application to the King for some little respite; but met with a positive and stern refusal. The most remarkable thing in the history of his last hours, is the persecution which he suffered from the bishops who had been sent to comfort him. Those reverend persons, it appears, spent the greater part of the time in urging him to profess the orthodox doctrines of passive obedience and non-resistance; without which, they said, he could not De an upright member of the church, nor attain to a proper state of repentance! It must never be forgotten, indeed, as Mr. Fox has remarked, if we would understand the history of this period, "that the orthodox members of the church regarded monarchy, not as a human, but as a divine institution; and passive obedience and non-resistance, not as political measures, but as articles of religion."

The following account of the dying scene of this misguided and unhappy youth, is very striking and pathetic; though a certain tone of sarcasm towards the reverend assistants does not, to our feelings, harmonize entirely with the more tender traits of the picture.

"At ten o'clock on the 15th. Monmouth proceeded, in a carriage of the Lieutenant of the Tower, to Tower Hill, the place destined for his execution. Two bishops were in the carriage with

pp. 265, 266.

After making a public profession of his attachment to his beloved Lady Harriet Wentworth, and his persuasion that their connection was innocent in the sight of God, he made reference to a paper he had signed in the morning, confessing the illegitimacy of his birth, and declaring that the title of King had been forced on him by his followers, much against his own inclination.

"The bishop, however, said, that there was nothing in that paper about resistance; nor, though Monmouth, quite worn out with their importunities, said to one of them in a most affecting manner, I am to die!-pray my lord-I refer to my paper,' would these men think it consistent with their duty to desist. There were only a few words they desired on one point. The substance of these applications on one hand, and answers on the other. was repeated, over and over again, in a manner that could not be believed, if the facts were not attested by the signature of the persons principally concerned. If the Duke, in declaring his sorrow for what had passed, used the word invasion, give it the true name,' said they, and call it rebellion." What name you please,' replied the mild-tempered Monmouth! He was sure he was going to everlasting happiness, and considered the serenity of his mind, in his present circumstances, as a certain earnest of the favour of his Creator. His repentance, he said, must be true, for he had no fear of from natural courage,' was the unfeeling and stupia dying; he should die like a lamb! Much may come reply of one of the assistants. Monmouth, with that modesty inseparable from true bravery, denied that he was in general less fearful than other men, maintaining that his present courage was owing to past transgressions, of all which generally he rehis consciousness that God had forgiven him his pented, with all his soul.

66

'At last the reverend assistants consented to join with him in prayer; but no sooner were they risen from their kneeling posture, than they returned to their charge. Not satisfied with what had passed, they exhorted him to a true and thorough repentance. Would he not pray for the King? and send a dutiful message to his majesty, to recom. mend the duchess and his children? As you