has drawn his character in the following terms:  “Monmouth, highly beloved by the populace, was a fit instrument to carry forward his (i.e.  Shaftesbury’s) designs.  To a gracefulness which prejudiced mankind in his favour as soon as seen, he joined an affability which gained their love.  Constant in his friendships, and just to his word, by nature tender, and an utter enemy to severity and cruelty, active and vigorous in his constitution, he excelled in the manly exercises of the field.  He was personally brave.  He loved the pomp and the very dangers of war.  But with these splendid qualities, he was vain to a degree of folly, versatile in his measures, weak in his understanding.  He was ambitious without dignity, busy without consequence, attempting ever to be artful, but always a fool.  Thus, taking the applause of the multitude for a certain mark of merit, he was the dupe of his own vanity, and owed all his misfortunes to that weakness.”—­History of England, vol. i., chap. iii.]

His entrance upon the stage of the world was so brilliant, his ambition had occasioned so many considerable events, and the particulars of his tragical end are so recent, that it were needless to produce any other traits to give a sketch of his character.  By the whole tenor of his life, he appeared to be rash in his undertakings, irresolute in the execution, and dejected in his misfortunes, in which, at least, an undaunted resolution ought to equal the greatness of the attempt.

His figure and the exterior graces of his person were such, that nature perhaps never formed anything more complete:  His face was extremely handsome; and yet it was a manly face, neither inanimate nor effeminate; each feature having its beauty and peculiar delicacy:  He had a wonderful genius for every sort of exercise, an engaging aspect, and an air of grandeur:  in a word, he possessed every personal advantage; but then he was greatly deficient in mental accomplishments.  He had no sentiments but such as others inspired him with; and those who first insinuated themselves into his friendship, took care to inspire him with none but such as were pernicious.  The astonishing beauty of his outward form caused universal admiration:  those who before were looked upon as handsome were now entirely forgotten at court:  and all the gay and beautiful of the fair sex were at his devotion.  He was particularly beloved by the king; but the universal terror of husbands and lovers.  This, however, did not long continue; for nature not having endowed him with qualifications to secure the possession of the heart, the fair sex soon perceived the defect.

The Duchess of Cleveland was out of humour with the king, because the children she had by his majesty were like so many little puppets, compared to this new Adonis.  She was the more particularly hurt, as she might have boasted of being the queen of love, in comparison with the duke’s mother.