descended to him from Walpole and Pelham. I did him too much honour. Such matters were
The public offices, the church, the courts of beyond his capacity. It was true that his poor
law, the army, the navy, the diplomatic ser- advice about expeditions and treaties was
vice, swarmed with his creatures. The bo-
roughs, which long afterwards made up the
memorable schedules A and B, were repre-
sented by his nominees. The great Whig
families, which during several generations had
been trained in the discipline of party warfare,
and were accustomed to stand together in a
firm phalanx, acknowledged him as their cap-
tain. Pitt, on the other hand, had what New-
castle wanted, an eloquence which stirred the
passions and charmed the imagination, a high
reputation for purity, and the confidence and
ardent love of millions.

of the privy seal. His brother George was treasurer of the navy. They were supposed to be on terms of close friendship with Pitt, who had married their sister, and was the most uxorious of husbands.

The Bedfords, or, as they were called by their enemies, the Bloomsbury gang, professed to be led by John Duke of Bedford, but in truth led him wherever they chose, and very often led him where he never would have gone of his own accord. He had many good qualities of head and heart, and would have been certainly a respectable, and possibly a distinguished man, if he had been less under the influence of his friends, or more fortunate in choosing them. Some of them were indeed, to do them justice, men of parts. But here, we are afraid, eulogy must end. Sandwich and Rigby were able debaters, pleasant boon companions, dexterous intriguers, masters of all the arts of jobbing and electioneering, and, both in public and private life, shamelessly immoral. Weymouth had a natural eloquence, which sometimes astonished those who knew how little he owed to study. But he was indolent and dissolute, and had early impaired a fine estate with the dice-box, and a fine constitution with the bottle. The wealth and power of the duke, and the talents and audacity of some of his retainers, might have seriously annoyed the strongest ministry. But his assistance had been secured. He was Lordlieutenant of Ireland; Rigby was his secretary; and the whole party dutifully supported the measures of the government.

Two men had, a short time before, been thought likely to contest with Pitt the lead of the House of Commons-William Murray and Henry Fox. But Murray had been removed to the Lords, and was Chief-Justice of the King's Bench; Fox was indeed still in the Commons. But means had been found to secure, if not his strenuous support, at least his silent acquiescence. He was a poor man; he was a doting father. The office of PaymasterGeneral during an expensive war was, in that age, perhaps the most lucrative situation in the gift of the government. This office was bestowed on Fox. The prospect of making a noble fortune in a few years, and of providing amply for his darling boy Charles, was irresistibly tempting. To hold a subordinate place, however profitable, after having led the House of Commons, and having been intrusted with the business of forming a ministry, was inleed a great descent. But a punctilious sense of personal dignity was no part of the character of Henry Fox.

We have not time to enumerate all the other men of weight and talents who were, by some tie or other, attached to the government. We may mention Hardwicke, reputed the first lawyer of the age; Legge, reputed the first financer of the age; the acute and ready Oswald; the bold and humerous Nugent; Charles Townshend, the most brilliant and versatile of mankind; Elliot, Barrington, North, Pratt. Indeed, as far as we recollect, there were in the whole House of Commons only two men of distinguished abilities who were not connected with the government; and those two

men stood so low in public estimation, that the only service which they could have ren dered to any government would have been to oppose it. We speak of Lord George Sackville and Bubb Dodington.

Though most of the official men, and all the members of the cabinet, were reputed Whigs, the Tories were by no means excluded from employment. Pitt had gratified many of them with commands in the militia, which increased both their income and their importance in their own counties; and they were therefore in better humour than at any time since the death of Anne. Some of the party still continued to grumble over their punch at the Cocoa-Tree; but in the House of Commons not a single one of the malecontents durst lift his eyes above the buckle of Pitt's shoe.

Thus there was absolutely no opposition. Nay, there was no sign from which it could be guessed in what quarter opposition was likely to arise. Several years passed during which Parliament seemed to have abdicated its chief functions. The Journals of the House of Commons during four sessions contain no trace of a division on a party question. The supplies, though beyond precedent great, were voted without discussion. The most animated debates of that period were on road bills and enclosure bills.

The old king was content; and it mattered little whether he were content or not. It would have been impossible for him to emancipate himself from a ministry so powerful, even if he had been inclined to do so. But he had no such inclination. He had once, indeed, been strongly prejudiced against Pitt, and had repeatedly been ill-used by Newcastle but the vigour and success with which the war had been waged in Germany, and the smoothness with which all public business was carried on, had produced a favourable change in the royal mind.

The

Such was the posture of affairs when, on the 25th of October, 1760, George the Second suddenly died, and George the Third, then twenty-two years old, became king. situation of George the Third differed widely from that of his grandfather and that of his great-grandfather. Many years had now elapsed since a sovereign of England had been an object of affection to any part of his people. The first two kings of the house of Hanover had neither those hereditary rights which have often supplied the defect of merit, nor those personal qualities which have often supplied the defect of title. A prince may be popular with little virtue or capacity, if he reigns by birthright derived from a long line of illus trious predecessors. An usurper may be popular, if his genius has saved or aggrandized the nation which he governs. Perhaps no rulers have in our time had a stronger hold on the affection of subjects than the Emperor Francis, and his son-in-law the Emperor Napoleon. But imagine a ruler with no better title than Napoleon, and no better understanding than Francis. Richard Cromwell was such a ruler; and, as soon as an arm was lifted up against him, he fell without a struggle, amidst universal derision. George the Firs

and George the Second were in a situation | to reproach him with. Even the remaining which bore some resemblance to that of Rich- adherents of the house of Stuart could scarcely ard Cromwell. They were saved from the impute to him the guilt of usurpation. He was fate of Richard Cromwell by the strenuous not responsible for the Revolution, for the Act and able exertion's of the Whig party, and by of Settlement, for the suppression of the risings the general conviction that the nation had no of 1715 and of 1745. He was innocent of the choice but between the house of Brunswick blood of Derwentwater and Kilmarnock, of Baland Popery. But by no class were the Guelphs merino and Cameron. Born more than fifty regarded with that devoted affection, of which years after the old line had been expelled, Charles the First, Charles the Second, and fourth in descent and third in succession of the James the Second, in spite of the greatest Hanoverian dynasty, he might plead some show faults, and in the midst of the greatest misfor- of hereditary right. His age, his appearance, tunes, received innumerable proofs. Those and all that was known of his character, conWhigs who stood by the dynasty so manfully ciliated public favour. He was in the bloom with purse and sword, did so on principles of youth; his person and address were pleasing. independent of, and indeed almost incompati- Scandal imputed to him no vice; and flattery ble with, the sentiment of devoted loyalty. might, without any glaring absurdity, ascribe The moderate Tories regarded the foreign to him many princely virtues. dynasty as a great evil, which must be endured for fear of a greater evil. In the eyes of the high Tories, the elector was the most hateful of robbers and tyrants. The crown of another was on his head; the blood of the brave and loyal was on his hands. Thus, during many years, the kings of England were objects of strong personal aversion to many of their subjects, and of strong personal attachment to none. They found, indeed, firm and cordial | support against the pretender to their throne; but this support was given, not at all for their sake, but for the sake of a religious and political system which would have been endangered by their fall. This support, too, they were compelled to purchase by perpetually sacrificing their private inclinations to the party which had set them on the throne, and which maintained them there.

It is not strange, therefore, that the sentiment of loyalty, a sentiment which had lately seemed to be as much out of date as the belief in witches or the practice of pilgrimage, should, from the day of his accession, have begun to revive. The Tories, in particular, who had always been inclined to king-worship, and who had long felt with pain the want of an idol before whom they could bow themselves down, were as joyful as the priests of Apis, when, after a long interval, they had found a new calf to adore. It was soon clear that George the Third was regarded by a portion of the nation with a very different feeling from that which his two predecessors had inspired. They had been merely first Magistrates, Doges, Stadtholders; he was emphatically a King, the anointed of Heaven, the breath of his people's nostrils. The years of the widowhood and mourning of the Tory party were over. Dido had kept faith long enough to the cold ashes of a former lord; she had at last found a comforter, and recognised the vestiges of the old flame. The golden days of Harley would return; the Somersets, the Lees, and the Wyndhams would again surround the throne. The latitudinarian prelates, who had not been ashamed to correspond with Doddridge and to shake hands with Whiston, would be succeeded by divines of the temper of South and Atterbury. The devotion which had been so signally shown to the house of Stuart-which had been proof against defeats, confiscations, and proscriptions; which perfidy, oppression, ingratitude, could not weary out-was now transferred entire to the house of Brunswick. If George the Third would but accept the homage of the Cavaliers and High-churchmen, he should be to them all that Charles the First and Charles the Second had been.

At the close of the reign of George the Second, the feeling of aversion with which the house of Brunswick had long been regarded by half the nation had died away; but no feeling of affection to that house had yet sprung up. There was little, indeed, in the old king's character to inspire esteem or tenderness. He was not our countryman. He never set foot on our soil till he was more than thirty years old. His speech betrayed his foreign origin and breeding. His love for his native land, though the most amiable part of his character, was not likely to endear him to his British subjects. That he was never so happy as when he could exchange St. James's for Hernhausen; that, year after year, our fleets were employed to convoy him to the Continent; that the interests of his kingdom were as nothing to him when compared with the interests of his electorate, could scarcely be denied. As to the rest, he had neither the qualities which make dulness respectable, nor the qualities which make The prince whose accession was thus hailed libertinism attractive. He had been a bad son by a great party long estranged from his house, and a worse father; an unfaithful husband and had received from nature a strong will, a firman ungraceful lover. Not one magnanimousness of temper to which a harsher name might or humane action is recorded of him; but many instances of meanness, and of a harshness which, but for the strong constitutional restraints under which he was placed, might have made the misery of his people.

perhaps be given, and an understanding not, indeed, acute or enlarged, but such as qualified him to be a good man of business. But his character had not yet fully developed itself. He had been brought up in strict seclusion. The He died; and at once a new world opened. detractors of the Princess Dowager of Wales The young king was a born Englishman. All affirmed that she had kept her children from his tastes and habits, good or bad, were Eng-commerce with society, in order that she might lish. No portion of his subjects had any thing hold an undivided empire over their minds. She VDL V.-90

30%

Scandal represented the Groom of the Stole as the favoured lover of the Princess-Dowager. He was undoubtedly her confidential friend. The influence which the two united exercised over the mind of the king, was for a time unbounded. The princess, a woman and a foreigner, was not likely to be a judicious advi ser about affairs of state; the earl could scarcely be said to have served even a noviciate in poli tics. His notions of government had been ac quired in the society which had been in the habit of assembling round Frederic at Kew and

gave a very different explanation of her con- | royal highness, "you are the very man to be duct. She would gladly, she said, see her sons envoy at some small proud German court where and daughters mix in the world, if they could there is nothing to do." do so without risk to their morals. But the profligacy of the people of quality alarmed her. The young men were all rakes; the young women made love, instead of waiting till it was made to them. She could not bear to expose those whom she loved best to the contaminating influence of such society. The moral advantages of the system of education which formed the Duke of York, the Duke of Cumberland, and the Queen of Denmark, may perhaps be questioned. George the Third was indeed no libertine; but he brought to the throne a mind only half opened, and was for some time en-Leicester House. That society consisted printirely under the influence of his mother and of his Groom of the Stole, John Stuart Earl of Bute.

cipally of Tories, who had been reconciled to the house of Hanover by the civility with which the prince had treated them, and by the hope of obtaining high preferment when he should come to the throne. Their political creed was a peculiar modification of Toryism. It was the creed neither of the Tories of the seventeenth nor of the Tories of the nineteenth century; it was the creed, not of Filmer and Sacheverell, not of Perceval and Eldon, but of the sect of which Bolingbroke may be considered as the chief doctor. This sect deserves commendation for having pointed out and justly reprobated some great abuses which sprang up during the long domination of the Whigs. But it is far easier to point out and reprobate abuses than to propose reforms; and the reforms which Bolingbroke proposed would either have been utterly inefficient, or would have produced much more mischief than they would have removed.

The Earl of Bute was scarcely known, even by name, to the country which he was soon to govern. He had indeed, a short time after he came of age, been chosen to fill a vacancy which, in the middle of a parliament, had taken place among the Scotch representative peers. He had disobliged the Whig ministers by giving some silent votes with the Tories, had consequently lost his seat at the next dissolution, and had never been re-elected. Near twenty years had elapsed since he had borne any part in politics. He had passed some of those years at his seat in one of the Hebrides, and from that retirement he had emerged as one of the household of Prince Frederic. Lord Bute, excluded from public life, had found out many ways of amusing his leisure. He was a tolerable actor in private theatricals, and was particularly successful in the part of Lothario. A The revolution had saved the nation from handsome leg, to which both painters and sa- one class of evils, but had at the same timetirists took care to give prominence, was among such is the imperfection of all things humanhis chief qualifications for the stage. He de- engendered or aggravated another class of vised quaint dresses for masquerades. He evils which required new remedies. Liberty dabbled in geometry, mechanics, and botany. and property were secure from the attacks of He paid some attention to antiquities and works prerogative. Conscience was respected. Nr of art, and was considered in his own circle as government ventured to infringe any of the a judge of painting, architecture, and poetry. rights solemnly recognised by the instrumen! It is said that his spelling was incorrect. But which had called William and Mary to the though, in our time, incorrect spelling is justly throne. But it cannot be denied that, unde: considered as a proof of sordid ignorance, it the new system, the public interests and the would be most unjust to apply the same rule public morals were seriously endangered by to people who lived a century ago. The novel corruption and faction. During the long strugof Sir Charles Grandison was published about gle against the Stuarts, the chief object of the time at which Lord Bute made his appear- the most enlightened statesmen had been to ance at Leicester House. Our readers may strengthen the House of Commons. The strugperhaps remember the account which Char-gle was over, the victory was won, the House lotte Grandison gives of her two lovers. One of Commons was supreme in the state; and of them, a fashionable baronet who talks French all the vices which had till then been latent in and Italian fluently, cannot write a line in his the representative system were rapidly deveown language without some sin against ortho-loped by prosperity and power. Scarcely had graphy; the other, who is represented as a the executive government become really remost respectable specimen of the young aris-sponsible to the House of Commons, when it tocracy, and something of a virtuoso, is described as spelling pretty well for a lord. On the whole, the Earl of Bute might fairly be called a man of cultivated mind. He was also a man of undoubted honour. But his understanding was narrow, and his manners cold and haughty. His qualifications for the part of a statesman were best described by Frederic, who often indulged in the unprincely luxury of sneering at his dependents. "Bute," said his

began to appear that the House of Commons was not really responsible to the nation. Many of the constituent bodies were under the absolute control of individuals; many were notoriously at the command of the highest bidder. The debates were not published; it was very seldom known out of doors how a gentleman had voted. Thus, while the ministry was accountable to the Parliament, the majority of the Parliament was accountable to nobody. Under

such circumstances, nothing could be more na- | upright designs? By what means? Inter. tural than that the members should insist on dicting himself from the use of corrup influbeing paid for their votes, should form them- ence, what motive was he to address to the Dodselves into combinations for the purpose of ingtons and Winningtons? Was cupidity, raising the price of their votes, and should at strengthened by habit, to be laid asleep by a critical conjunctures extort large wages by few fine sentences about virtue and union? threatening a strike. Thus the Whig ministers of George the First and George the Second were compelled to reduce corruption to a system, and to practise it on a gigantic scale.

Absurd as this theory was, it had many admirers, particularly among men of letters. It was now to be reduced to practice; and the result was, as any man of sagacity must have foreseen, the most piteous and ridiculous of failures.

If we are right as to the cause of these abuses, we can scarcely be wrong as to the remedy. The remedy was surely not to de- On the very day of the young king's accesprive the House of Commons of its weight in sion, appeared some signs which indicated the the state. Such a course would undoubtedly approach of a great change. The speech have put an end to parliamentary corruption which he made to his council was not submitand to parliamentary factions: for, when votes ted to the cabinet. It was drawn up by Bute, cease to be of importance, they will cease to and contained some expressions which might be bought, and when knaves can get nothing be construed into reflections on the conduct of by combining, they will cease to combine. affairs during the late reign. Pitt remon But to destroy corruption and faction by in-strated, and begged that these expressions migh troducing despotism, would have been to cure be softened down in the printed copy; but it bad by worse. The proper remedy evidently was not till after some hours of altercation was, to make the House of Commons respon- that Bute yielded; and, even after Bute had sible to the nation; and this was to be effected yielded, the king affected to hold out till the in two ways-first, by giving publicity to par- following afternoon. On the same day on liamentary proceedings, and thus placing which this singular contest took place, Bute every member on his trial before the tribunal was not only sworn of the privy council, but of public opinion; and secondly, by so reform-introduced into the cabinet. ing the constitution of the House, that no man should be able to sit in it who had not been returned by a respectable and independent body of constituents.

Bolingbroke and Bolingbroke's disciples recommended a very different mode of treating the diseases of the state. Their doctrine was, that a vigorous use of the prerogative by a patriot king would at once break all factious combinations, and supersede the pretended necessity of bribing members of Parliament. The king had only to resolve that he would be master, that he would not be held in thraldom by any set of men, that he would take for ministers any persons in whom he had confidence, without distinction of party, and that he would restrain his servants from influencing, by immoral means, either the constituent bodies or the representative body. This childish scheme proved that those who proposed it knew nothing of the nature of the evil with which they pretended to deal. The real cause of the prevalence of corruption and faction was, that a House of Commons, not accountable to the people, was more powerful than the king. Bolingbroke's remedy could be applied only by a king more powerful than the House of Commons. How was the patriot prince to govern in defiance of the body without whose consent he could not equip a sloop, keep a battalion under arms, send an embassy, or defray even the charges of his own household? Was he to dissolve the Parliament? And what was he likely to gain by appealing to Sudbury and Old Sarum against the venality of their representatives? Was he to send out privy seals? Was he to levy ship-money? If so, this boasted reform must commence in all probability by civil war, and, if consummated, must be consummated by the establishment of absolute monarchy. Or was the patriot king to carry the House of Commons with him in his

Soon after this, Lord Holdernesse, one of the secretaries of state, in pursuance of a plan concerted with the court, resigned the seals. Bute was instantly appointed to the vacant place. A general election speedily followed, and the new secretary entered parliament in the only way in which he then could enter it, as one of the sixteen representative peers of Scotland.

Had the ministers been firmly united, it can scarcely be doubted that they would have been able to withstand the court. The parliamentary influence of the Whig aristocracy, combined with the genius, the virtue, and the fame of Pitt, would have been irresistible. But there had been in the cabinet of George the Second latent jealousies and enmities, which now began to show themselves. Pitt had been estranged from his old ally Legge, the chancellor of the exchequer. Some of the ministers were envious of Pitt's popularity; others were, not altogether without cause, disgusted by his imperious and haughty demeanour; others, again, were honestly opposed to some parts of his policy. They admitted that he had found the country in the depths of humiliation, and had raised it to the height of glory; they admitted that he had conducted the war with energy, ability, and splendid success. But they began to hint that the drain on the resources of the state was unexampled, and that the public debt was increasing with a speed at which Montague or Godolphin would have stood aghast. Some of the acquisitions made by our fleets and armies were, it was acknowledged, profitable as well as honourable; but, now that George the Second was dead, a courtier might ven