l the present age was fabricated to taint the
credit of Ralegh as a virtuous husband. Probably the epistle was
innocently concocted as a literary exercise by an admirer, who wished to
explain or apologise for his temporary loss of self-control.

[Sidenote: _Reasons for Silence._]

Notwithstanding a fire and indignation, occasionally approaching
grandeur, which, it must be admitted, raise another perplexing question,
who, if not Ralegh, had the wit to pen the epistle, it seems necessary
to surrender the letter. But it is too great a leap from repudiation of
it to the disbelief, first insinuated by Mr. Tytler, and more boldly and
absolutely enunciated by Mr. Dixon, in the attempt itself at suicide.
Their theory is that the whole was an invention of Ralegh's enemies. It
may be admitted that the stab, like the letter, has its difficulties. If
he tried to kill himself, it is strange that a practised swordsman
should not have succeeded. Whether he meant death or not, the reserve of
the Crown advocates at Winchester is equally mysterious. They were, it
might have been thought, sure to dwell upon the act in the one case as
contemptible, in the other as presumptive proof of a sense of guilt. The
latter is the obvious way in which it would strike the mind. Sir Toby
Matthew, son of the Bishop who had lately ejected Ralegh from his London
house, described it as 'a guilty blow.' Two centuries later, it
suggested to Hallam, 'a presumption of consciousness that something
could be proved against him.' Why did Ralegh's contemporary and official
adversaries not press the presumption home, if they could? On the other
side, there is the yet weightier evidence of Ralegh's own conduct. He
and his wife and friends must have heard the rumour, and their tongues
were not tied. Whatever reasons counsel and judges had for reticence,
the town had none. If Ralegh could have contradicted the discreditable
tale, it is, as in the case of an earlier scandal, inconceivable that he
should not. The explanation of his absolute silence, and the partial,
not entire, silence of his adversaries, is that he was ashamed of his
despair, and they were ashamed of having brought him to it. Cecil, after
the trial, referred to the matter, after the fashion of Matthew and of
Hallam, as 'suspicious.' At the time of the occurrence he mentioned it
to Sir Thomas Parry in a tone more of apology. He appeared to be afraid
European opinion might imagine that Ralegh had been dri