Although it is impossible to form any opinion of the _words_ which Mary may have used in these letters, some conclusions may be drawn from the _sentiments_ which the translators of course pretend not to have altered. These are, in many respects, directly contradictory of the character which history proves her to have possessed. Whatever follies Mary may have committed--whatever weaknesses she may have fallen into--it cannot be denied, even by her worst enemies, that she was a woman of a proud spirit, and too much accustomed to admiration and flattery, to consider her esteem a gift of little value. Yet, through all these writings, she is made to evince a degree of ardour and forwardness of affection for Bothwell, at once against every notion of female delicacy, and all probability. She is continually made to express fears that he does not return her love with an equal warmth,--that he loves his wife, the Lady Jane Gordon, better than he does her,--and that he is not so zealous in bringing about their mutual purposes as she could wish. If Bothwell had ever carried on these criminal intrigues with Mary, one of his first objects would have been to remove from her mind all suspicion that he was not in truth devotedly attached to her. Whether he was successful in deceiving her or not, is it likely that Mary Queen of Scots, whose hand had been sought by all the first Princes in Christendom, would have condescended to servility, meanness, and abject cringing in her advances to him? If the letters were forged, Murray would naturally wish to put in as strong a point of view as possible, Mary's anxiety to urge Bothwell on to all the crimes which he perpetrated. But if letters had been really written by her, many compunctious visitings of conscience would surely be apparent in them,--many a fear would be expressed,--many a symptom would be discovered of the reluctance with which she yielded to the overwhelming strength of Bothwell's passion and entreaties. Yet in these letters nothing of the kind is to be found. Passages occur continually, in which, far from there being any of the conscious confusion and hesitation which would necessarily have marked the style of one who was, for the first time, deviating so far from the paths of virtue, nothing is to be discovered but the hardened vice and shameless effrontery of a confirmed and _masculine villain_.