solicitor to the treasury. These concessions, as it soon appeared, had not the slightest effect on the recluse of Burton Pynsent. Though refusing to take office himself, he was prepared to hurl his lightnings on those who did, and especially growled at the folly of admitting the poor old whimpering duke of Newcastle to a place in the cabinet.
At this period it would puzzle the reader to distinguish the difference betwixt whigs and tories. The tories were no longer Jacobites, all were equally attached to the present dynasty, and the distinguishing marks of conservatism and of a moderate liberalism were no longer to be found. There was little difference discernible in the political principles of whigs and tories; there were no uniform acts or political doctrines by which the two great sections of politicians openly held, except that the whigs declared that they still venerated the principles of the revolution, and the tories said nothing about them.
THE STAMP ACT RIOTS AT BOSTON, IN AMERICA.
The chief distinctions were those of being in or out of office; and the so-called whigs were split into a number of parties, as hostile to each other as whigs and tories had formerly been. In only two things did they really accord—in the adhesion to the great whig houses of Russell, Cavendish, Wentworth, and Grenville, and in the love of office. There was also an indistinct and mysterious party called the king's friends, to whom almost all were averse. At the head of these was Bute, who was still imagined, even by Burke, and Bedford, and Grenville, to sway secretly the king's counsels. Yet the king declared, on the word of a gentleman, that he had now utterly cut off all communication betwixt him and his former favourite, and when George said such things seriously, there might be full reliance on him. He was honest in intention, however much led astray by bad counsellors, and dogged in his error when once committed to it. It would appear that the king's aunt, the princess Amelia, about this time, made an attempt to introduce Bute again to the king; that she invited the king to dine with her at Gunnersbury, near Brentford; and, when there, took him into the garden, saying there was no one there but an old friend of his. This old friend, the king soon perceived, was Bute, who was walking in a neighbouring alley. On seeing him the king turned back, and told the lady that, if she ever attempted such a thing again, it would be the last time she would see him at her house. The story is told differently by different authorities, but, in the main, is propably true. George appears at this period, to be endeavouring to act the best for the country, but to be hopelessly trammelled by party faction.
Just at this time, too, he lost the only relative on whom he appeared to rely for counsel—the duke of Cumberland. This once and most justly unpopular prince appeared by the sufferings of his later years to have been softened and much improved. He lived quietly, and certainly gave the harassed king, his nephew, the best and most earnest assistance that he could. The people, who used in former years to abhor him, had also much softened towards him, and had grown to respect him. The duke died suddenly. On the 30th of October he was playing at piquet, when he grew confused, and mistook the cards. The next morning, however, he appeared at court, but returned to dine, and after dinner died in his chair.
