s scrupulosity which he had often
shown about taking off his hat would not have been altogether out of
place on this occasion. He probably silenced the remonstrances of his
conscience by repeating to himself that none of the money which he
extorted would go into his own pocket; that if he refused to be
the agent of the ladies they would find agents less humane; that by
complying he should increase his influence at the court, and that his
influence at the court had already enabled him, and still might enable
him, to render great services to his oppressed brethren. The maids of
honour were at last forced to content themselves with less than a third
part of what they had demanded. [461]

No English sovereign has ever given stronger proof of a cruel nature
than James the Second. Yet his cruelty was not more odious than his
mercy. Or perhaps it may be more correct to say that his mercy and his
cruelty were such that each reflects infamy on the other. Our horror at
the fate of the simple clowns, the young lads, the delicate women, to
whom he was inexorably severe, is increased when we find to whom and for
what considerations he granted his pardon.

The rule by which a prince ought, after a rebellion, to be guided in
selecting rebels for punishment is perfectly obvious. The ringleaders,
the men of rank, fortune, and education, whose power and whose artifices
have led the multitude into error, are the proper objects of severity.
The deluded populace, when once the slaughter on the field of battle
is over, can scarcely be treated too leniently. This rule, so evidently
agreeable to justice and humanity, was not only not observed: it was
inverted. While those who ought to have been spared were slaughtered by
hundreds, the few who might with propriety have been left to the utmost
rigour of the law were spared. This eccentric clemency has perplexed
some writers, and has drawn forth ludicrous eulogies from others. It was
neither at all mysterious nor at all praiseworthy. It may be distinctly
traced in every case either to a sordid or to a malignant motive, either
to thirst for money or to thirst for blood.

In the case of Grey there was no mitigating circumstance. His parts and
knowledge, the rank which he had inherited in the state, and the high
command which he had borne in the rebel army, would have pointed him out
to a just government as a much fitter object of punishment than Alice
Lisle, than William Hewling, than any of the