State announced also that, in consideration of his great public services, his wife had been created a peeress in her own right, and that a pension of three thousand pounds a year, for three lives, had been bestowed on himself. It was doubtless thought that the rewards and honours conferred on the great minister would have a conciliatory effect on the public mind. Perhaps, too, it was thought that his popularity, which had partly arisen from the contempt which he had always shown for money, would be damaged by a pension; and, indeed, a crowd of libels instantly appeared, in which he was accused of having sold his country. Many of his true friends thought that he would have best consulted the dignity of his character by refusing to accept any pecuniary reward from the court. Nevertheless, the general opinion of his talents, virtues, and services, remained unaltered. Addresses were presented to him from several large towns. London showed its admiration and affection in a still more marked manner. Soon after his resignation came the Lord Mayor's day. The King and the royal family dined at Guildhall. Pitt was one of the guests. The young Sovereign, seated by his bride in his state coach, received a remarkable lesson. He was scarcely noticed. All eyes were fixed on the fallen minister; all acclamations directed to him. The streets, the balconies, the chimney tops, burst into a roar of delight as his chariot passed by. The ladies waved their handkerchiefs from the windows. The common people clung to the wheels, shook hands with the footmen, and even kissed the horses. Cries of "No Bute!" "No Newcastle salinon!" were mingled with the shouts of Pitt for ever! When Pitt entered Guildhall, he was welcomed by loud huzzas and clapping of

hands, in which the very magistrates of the city joined. Lord Bute, in the mean time, was hooted and pelted through Cheapside, and would, it was thought, have been in some danger, if he had not taken the precaution of surrounding his carriage with a strong body guard of boxers. Many persons blamed the conduct of Pitt on this occasion as disrespectful to the King. Indeed, Pitt himself afterwards owned that he had done. wrong. He was led into this error, as he was afterwards led into more serious errors, by the influence of his turbulent and mischievous brother-in-law, Temple.

The events which immediately followed Pitt's retirement raised his fame higher than ever. War with Spain proved to be, as he had predicted, inevitable. News came from the West Indies that Martinique had been taken by an expedition which he had sent forth. Havanna fell; and it was known that he had planned an attack on Havanna. Manilla capitulated; and it was believed that he had meditated a blow against Manilla. The American fleet, which he had proposed to intercept, had unloaded an immense cargo of bullion in the haven of Cadiz, before Bute could be convinced that the Court of Madrid really entertained hostile intentions.

The session of Parliament which followed Pitt's retirement passed over without any violent storm. Lord Bute took on himself the most prominent part in the House of Lords. He had become Secretary of State, and indeed prime minister, without having once opened his lips in public except as an actor. There was, therefore, no small curiosity to know how he would acquit himself. Members of the House of Commons crowded the bar of the Lords, and covered the steps of the throne. It was generally expected

this session, assailed with an insolence and malice wh called forth the indignation of men of all parties; he endured the outrage with majestic patience. In younger days he had been but too prompt to retal on those who attacked him; but now, conscious of great services, and of the space which he filled in eyes of all mankind, he would not stoop to pers squabbles. "This is no season," he said, in the del on the Spanish war, "for altercation and recrim tion. A day has arrived when every English should stand forth for his country. Arm the wh be one people; forget every thing but the public. set you the example. Harassed by slanderers, sin under pain and disease, for the public I forget both wrongs and my infirmities!" On a general review his life, we are inclined to think that his genius virtue never shone with so pure an effulgence during the session of 1762.

The session drew towards the close; and B emboldened by the acquiescence of the Houses, solved to strike another great blow, and to bec first minister in name as well as in reality. 1 coalition, which a few months before had seemed powerful, had been dissolved. The retreat of had deprived the government of popularity. N castle had exulted in the fall of the illustrious league whom he envied and dreaded, and had foreseen that his own doom was at hand. He tried to flatter himself that he was at the head of government; but insults heaped on insults at le undeceived him. Places which had always been sidered as in his gift, were bestowed without reference to him. His expostulations only called f significant hints that it was time for him to re