besides being the intimate friend of the Conyngham family, was basking in the sunshine of the Court, and could have given ample evidence, in the shape of repeated acts of kindness, that it was not all made up of selfishness: 'December 18th, 1821.-I came to town, went to Brighton yesterday for a Council. I was lodged in the Pavilion and dined with the King.' 'March 19th.-17th. I received a message from the King, to tell me that he was sorry, I had not dined with him the last time I was at Windsor, that he had intended to ask me, but finding that all the Ministers dined there except Ellenborough, he had let me go, that Ellenborough might not be the only man not invited, and "he would be damned if Ellenborough ever should dine in his house.” Swearing was then the order of the day, and this act of considerate courtesy was not affected by the expletive, evidently noted down to excite a prejudice, like the incident of the Sailor King remarking, 'This is a d-d bad pen you have given me ;' or that of George IV. asking the Clerk of the Council, aside at the Council table, whether he was for the horse or the maredoing (as His Majesty observed to the Duke of Wellington) 'a bit of Newmarket'-probably whilst some formal document was before the Board. Greville must have heard a story highly creditable to George IV., which better merited a place in his Journal than many which he has set down. When Romeo Coates was in the height of his notoriety, some wag sent him an invitation to a party at Carlton House. He went, unconscious of the trick, of which, fortunately, the Regent got timely notice, and gracefully turned the tables by desiring Coates to be presented, and giving him the most flattering reception as an invited and welcome guest. Mr. Meynell Ingram, of Temple Newsham, was staying with his aunt (the Marchioness of Hertford) at the Pavilion, when a large party was expected from London to dine and sleep. He was taken on a tour of inspection through all the bedrooms by the Regent, who remarked, 'You see, Hugo, my boy, when fellows come all the way from Town to visit one, they expect to be made comfortable."* It was not in idle mockery that George IV., when Prince of Wales, was termed the first gentleman of the age, and His Majesty had been so well abused already, that Greville would have been better employed in defending him than in trying to outdo in prose the poetic virulence of Moore, who, besides direct attacks like the Lines on the Death of Sheridan,' gives vent to it in places where we should least expect to meet with it. *Ex relatione Mr. Meynell Ingram. Few of 6 of the dames or damsels who warble the beautiful melody, When first I met thee, warm and young,' and pour their whole souls into the concluding verse, are aware that they are personifying Erin and apostrophising George IV.: 'Go, go, 'tis vain to curse, "Tis weakness to upbraid thee; Than guilt and shame have made thee.' The scattered accounts of William IV. with the comments on his conduct and estimates of his character, although capricious and contradictory, are so contrived as to leave a bad impression on the whole. The first entry after the accession runs thus: 'Never was elevation like that of King William IV. His life has been hitherto passed in obscurity and neglect, in miserable poverty, surrounded by a numerous progeny of bastards, without consideration or friends, and he was ridiculous from his grotesque ways and little meddling curiosity.' Turning back to an entry of 1827, relating to the formation of Canning's Administration, we find His' (Canning's) 'first measure was, however, very judicious—that of appointing the Duke of Clarence Lord High Admiral; nothing served so much to disconcert his opponents.' How could this be, if the Duke of Clarence was without consideration or friends? In imitation of St. Simon and with questionable taste, for the word sounds coarser in modern English than in the seventeenthcentury French, Greville constantly speaks of the Fitzclarences as the bastards or bâtards. But he was on intimate terms with them, and had no compunction of conscience in laying them under frequent contribution for his diary. Thus, on his way to the Ascot course (June 1835), he overtook Lord Adolphus, who rode with him, and gave him an account of his father's habits and state of mind. As this entry has gone the rounds of the papers, we shall only extract a sentence: 'After breakfast he reads the Times' and 'Morning Post,' commenting aloud on what he reads in very plain terms, and sometimes they hear "That's a damned lie,' or some such remark, without knowing to what it applies.' On July 30th, 1830, Greville writes: "I tremble for him (the King): at present he is only a mountebank, but he bids fair to be a maniac.' Within less than four months, all fears and doubts were seemingly at an end : • November 17th, 1830.-The fact is, he turns out an incomparable King, and deserves all the encomiums that are lavished on him. All the mountebankery which signalised his conduct when he came to the throne has passed away with the excitement which caused it, and he is as dignified as the homeliness and simplicity of his character will allow him to be.' One would have thought that the King's conduct in delaying the creation of peers and accepting Lord Grey's resignation, would have confirmed Greville's passing good opinion of His Majesty. Unluckily it had the contrary effect: 6 May 17th, 1832.-His ignorance, weakness, and levity put him in a miserable light, and prove him to be one of the silliest old gentlemen in his dominions; but I believe he is mad, for yesterday he gave a great dinner to the Jockey Club, at which (notwithstanding his cares) he seemed in excellent spirits; and after dinner he made a number of speeches, so ridiculous and nonsensical, beyond all belief but to those who heard them, rambling from one subject to another, repeating the same thing over and over again, and altogether such a mass of confusion, trash, and imbecility as made one laugh and blush at the same time.' His Majesty may have been too fond of speechifying, and (like all who are so) have said many things that he had better have left unsaid; but we mistrust verbatim reports, especially at secondhand; and it is clear from his own showing that the language Greville puts into the royal mouth is commonly his own; for the King's speeches, as given in the Journal, are anything but rambling and confused. On September 21st, 1836, he undertakes to report, between inverted commas, a speech (or part of a speech) delivered on the 20th of August, from particulars supplied to him the day before (September 20th) by a person who spoke from memory unaided by a note. The scene is Windsor Castle: "Adolphus Fitzclarence went into his (the King's) room on Sunday morning, and found him in a state of great excitement. It was his birthday, and though his celebration was what was called private, there were a hundred people at dinner, either belonging to the Court or from the neighbourhood. The Duchess of Kent sat on one side of the King and one of his sisters on the other, the Princess Victoria opposite. Adolphus Fitzclarence sat two or three from the Duchess and heard every word of what passed. After dinner, by the Queen's desire, "His Majesty's health, and long life to him" was given, and as soon as it was drunk he made a very long speech, in the course of which he poured forth the following extraordinary and foudroyante tirade : "I trust in God that my life may be spared for nine months longer, after which period, in the event of my death, no regency would take place. I should then have the satisfaction of leaving the royal authority to the personal exercise of that young lady (pointing to the Princess), the heiress presumptive to the Crown, and not in the hands of a person now now near me, who is surrounded by evil advisers, and who is herself incompetent to act with propriety in the station in which she would be placed. I have no hesitation in saying that I have been insultedgrossly and continually insulted-by that person, but I am determined to endure no longer a course of behaviour so disrespectful to me. Amongst many other things I have particularly to complain of the manner in which that young lady has been kept away from my Court; she has been repeatedly kept from my drawing-rooms, at which she ought always to have been present, but I am fully resolved that this shall not happen again. I would have her know that I am King, and I am determined to make my authority respected, and for the future I shall insist and command that the Princess do upon all occasions appear at my Court, as it is her duty to do." He terminated his speech by an allusion to the Princess and her future reign in a tone of paternal interest and affection, which was excellent in its way. This awful philippic (with a great deal more which I forget) was uttered with a loud voice and excited manner. The Queen looked in deep distress, the Princess burst into tears, and the whole company were aghast. The Duchess of Kent said not a word. Immediately after they rose and retired, and a terrible scene ensued; the Duchess announced her immediate departure and ordered her carriage, but a sort of reconciliation was patched up, and she was prevailed upon to stay till the next day.' Lord Adolphus Fitzclarence was not the most accurate or discreet of mortals. He was prone to improve upon a story. He did not sit two or three off the Duchess, the whole centre of the table being occupied by the royal family, members of the diplomatic body, the great officers of state, &c.; and a month had elapsed before he made his report to Greville. Against it, we are enabled to set an account of the scene by a highly distinguished person, then a member of the household, who was present, and had, moreover, the best possible opportunities of becoming acquainted with the circumstances which preceded and, in part, led to it. 'The King's constant wish was that the Princess, for whom he entertained the fondest affection, should visit him frequently, in order, as he said, to become acquainted with the details and procedure of public affairs. "I am an old man, and must soon go to my grave. I anxiously wish that the Duchess would let the Princess come to me; but she keeps her away from me." This was not said once or twice; it was constantly before the King's mind, and he referred to it again and again.' Sir Herbert Taylor and our informant expected an explosion on account of this, the fixed idea which possessed their royal master's mind, and waited with corresponding anxiety for the speech. This was delivered in giving the health of the Princess, not, as Greville's report report would imply, in acknowledging the toast of The King' or His Majesty's Health': a toast, we believe, which never is acknowledged. After having uttered, in a voice broken with emotion, a panegyric on his niece's character, and pointed to the great position she must soon be called to fill, he said it had always been his wish to make her acquainted with those rules of conduct by which Sovereigns of the House of Hanover had ever been guided, and also to show her the details of the kingly office, which could only be learnt by personal acquaintance with routine. "But a person that is in my eye," that was his expression, looking the Duchess full in the face, "has taken upon herself to prevent it; but, by God's help, she shan't succeed." Upon this the Duchess looked uncommonly uncomfortable. Somebody (not the Princess) burst into tears; and there was a sort of rustling sound from the whole assembly which drowned the last words of the King's speech. Recovering quickly from his emotion, the King said in his usual firm voice, "Let the band play;" and the band played, and the company recovered its serenity." It will be observed that in Greville's report the essential point is missed. The Princess is made an object of the tirade as well as the Duchess; and the grand grievance or gravamen is, that the Princess had been kept, not from personal communication with the Sovereign, but from his Drawing-rooms. As to the 'terrible scene' that ensued when the royal ladies retired, it existed only in the lively imagination of the narrator, although no doubt they were agitated and distressed. On July 1st, 1835, Greville reports what he terms a most curious burst of eloquence from His Majesty.' It was addressed to Sir Charles Grey, who (we are told by Mr. Reeve in a note) had just been appointed Governor of Jamaica. Unluckily Sir Charles Grey was not appointed Governor of Jamaica till 1843, six years after the King's death. If the speech was delivered at all, it must have been on Sir Charles Grey's appointment to the Canadian mission with Lord Gosford. At a small private dinner, including some foreign guests, the King repeated, as an anecdote, the toast given by a Duke of Brunswick in the last century at a ceremonial dinner at Windsor. It was in verse, and two of the four lines contain words proscribed by modern delicacy or prudery, although frequently used by classical French writers, male and female, like Madame de Sévigné and Voltaire. Greville actually represents the King as giving the toast'a very coarse toast at a great dinner: 'a dinner of ninety guests, all his Ministers, all the great people, Vol. 138.-No. 275. C and |