had high schemes of ambition, than to discover what was his precise object; and those who boldly impute to him the intention of succeeding to the crown, seem to pass by several weighty arguments, which make strongly against their hypothesis; such as his connection with the Duchess of Portsmouth, who, if the succession were to go to the king’s illegitimate children, must naturally have been for her own son; his unqualified support of the Exclusion Bill, which, without indeed mentioning her, most unequivocally settled the crown, in case of a demise, upon the Princess of Orange; and, above all, the circumstance of his having, when driven from England, twice chosen Holland for his asylum.  By his cousins he was received, not so much with the civility and decorum of princes, as with the kind familiarity of near relations, a reception to which he seemed to make every return of reciprocal cordiality.  It is not rashly to be believed, that he, who has never been accused of hardened wickedness, could have been upon such terms with, and so have behaved to, persons whom he purposed to disappoint in their dearest and best grounded hopes, and to defraud of their inheritance.

Whatever his views might be, it is evident that they were of a nature wholly adverse, not only to those of the Duke of York, but to the schemes of power entertained by the king, with which the support of his brother was intimately connected.  Monmouth was therefore, at the suggestion of James, ordered by his father to leave the country, and deprived of all his offices, civil and military.  The pretence for this exile was a sort of principle of impartiality, which obliged the king, at the same time that he ordered his brother to retire to Flanders, to deal equal measure to his son.  Upon the Duke of York’s return (which was soon after), Monmouth thought he might without blame return also; and persevering in his former measures and old connections, became deeply involved in the cabals to which Essex, Russell, and Sidney fell martyrs.  After the death of his friends, he surrendered himself; and upon a promise that nothing said by him should be used to the prejudice of any of his surviving friends, wrote a penitentiary letter to his father, consenting, at the same time, to ask pardon of his uncle.  A great parade was made of this by the court, as if it was designed by all means to goad the feelings of Monmouth:  his majesty was declared to have pardoned him at the request of the Duke of York, and his consent was required to the publication of what was called his confession.  This he resolutely refused at all hazards, and was again obliged to seek refuge abroad, where he had remained to the period of which we are now treating.