xtract, from his "Memoirs," above cited, that
Monmouth made no discovery of consequence, 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