Two men

of the popular mind, and in view of the future. more unhappy than they were at this time could hardly have been found in the dominions of both.

It would indeed be difficult to point to a more unhappy life, through its whole extent, than that of George IV. Nothing went well with him; and as his troubles came chiefly from within, he had none of the compensations which have waited upon the most unfortunate of kings. Kings defeated, captive, dethroned-or diseased in body, or betrayed in their domestic relations-have usually had solace from noble emotions, strenuous acts, or sweet domestic affections. But our unhappy king had none of these. Through life he achieved nothing. He was neither a warrior, nor a statesman, nor a student, nor a domestic man. If he had been even a mechanic, like Louis XVI. the locksmith, it would have been something. He was nothing but the man of pleasure; and, even in an ordinary rank, no one leads such a life of pain as the man of pleasure. In his rank, where real companionship is out of the question, even that life of pain is deprived of its chief solace the fellowship of comrades. The 'first gentleman in Europe' might make himself as vulgar as he would in the pursuits of dissipation; he was still prince, and therefore excluded from the hilarity which cannot exist where there is not equality.

His youth was unhappy. His parents disliked and restricted him, and thus drove him early into distrust and offence. What his married life was is seen in the story of his queen. If he loved his only child, she did not love him; and he lost her. He had no friends; and if he chose to give that name to any of his counsellors, he knew that he had often their disapprobation and their compassion. Between himself and his people there was no tie, nor any pretence of one. He never showed the least desire for their happiness, which involved any personal sacrifice. He showed himself capable of petty resentments; he showed himself incapable of magnanimity. He let it be seen that the best government of his reign took place against his will, while he attempted disgraceful acts which did not succeed. He surrounded himself with persons whom the nation could not respect, while his selfish pro

digality at their expense checked every growth of that loyalty which springs from personal attachment and esteem. Faulty as was his temper, his principles were no better. We have seen in the course of this history that his word was utterly unreliable; and other proofs stood out from the whole surface of his life. If it is asked whether there was no good to set against this amount of evil, the only answer, probably, that could be given by those most disposed in his favour is, that he was kindly and warm in his feelings towards those whom he took for his companions, whatever their deserts; and that he could. be extremely agreeable and winning, and even outwardly dignified, when he chose. Like all princes, he had his flatterers; and while he lived, praises of the sovereign were afloat, as they are in every reign. The glories and blessings which accrued to the nation in his time, naturally appeared to belong more or less to him at the moment. But it is not so after the lapse of twenty years. When we now look back upon the close of the war, the breaking up of the Holy Alliance, the reduction of taxation, the improvement in freedom of speech and the press, the emancipation of the Dissenters and the Catholics, and the establishment of the principle and some of the practice of freetrade, we involuntarily regard these as the acts and experience of a nation without a head. If it is now a conviction very common among us, that besides that irresistible influence which emanates from personal character, the sovereign has, with us, no longer any power but for obstruction, it is certain that no one person has done so much to ripen and extend this conviction as George IV. He declined the noble prerogative of rule over the heart and mind of his people by personal qualities, while using such opportunities as he had of reminding them of his obstructive power; and his death was received by them with an indifference proportioned to such deserts.

He died in the sixty-eighth year of his age, and the eleventh of his reign; previous to which he had held the regency for ten years.

CHAPTER XI.

Character of the Reign-Achievements-Desiderata-State of Operatives-Crimes and Punishments-Accidents-Arts and EdificesHanwell Asylum-Drainage-Railway-Reading for the BlindScott's Novels-Shakspeare Festival-Actors-Irving-Religious Parties Conversions of Catholics-Intolerance of Opinion-Dissenters' Marriages-Press at Calcutta-Stamp Duty-Protector of Slaves-Treaty with Brazil-Spring-guns-Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge-Necrology-Political Deaths-Travellers— Men of Business-Artists-Men of Letters-Philosophers-Philanthropists.

At the close of the first reign since the peace, it is easy to see that a great improvement in the national welfare had taken place, though the period was in itself one of gloom and agitation. The old Tory rule was broken up, like an ice-field in spring, and the winds were all abroad to prevent its reuniting. There were obstacles ahead; but so many were floating away behind, that the expectation of progress was clear and strong. On every account it was a good thing that the old Tory rule was broken up; but chiefly for this-that when the thing was done by the strong compulsion of fact, of necessity, men were beginning to look for the principle of the change, and thereby to obtain some insight into the views of the parties that had governed, or would or might govern the country. Men began to have some practical conception that the Tories thought it their duty to govern the people (for their good) as a disposable property; that the Whigs thought it their duty to govern as trustees of the nation, according to their own discretion; and that there were persons living and effectually moving in the world of politics, who thought that the people ought to govern themselves through the House of Commons. This perception once awakened, a new time had from that moment begun, of which we are at this day very far from seeing the end. With the departure of George IV. into the region of the past, we are taking leave of the old time, and can almost join in even

Lord Eldon's declarations about the passing away of the things that had been, and the incoming of a new and portentous age of the national history, though we do not sympathise in his terrors and regrets, nor agree with him that what had been dropped was that which should have been retained, and that whatever should supervene was to be deprecated because it was new. We have, what the old Tories have not, and cannot conceive of, the deepest satisfaction in every proof that the national soul is alive and awake, that the national mind is up and stirring. There was proof of this, at the close of this reign, in what had been done, and in what was clearly about to be done; and this trumpet-call to advance was heard above loud groans of suffering, and deep sighs of depression; and the nation marshalled itself for the advance accordingly.

As for the facts of what had been done, the old Tory rule by hereditary custom, or an understanding among the 'great families' whom Mr. Canning so mortally offended, was broken up. Exclusion from social right and privilege on account of religious opinion was broken up; that is, the system was, as a whole, though some partial exclusion remained, and remains to this day. In the same manner, the system of commercial restriction was broken up, though in practice monopoly was as yet far more extensive than liberty of commerce. Slavery was brought_up_for trial at the tribunal of the national conscience; and, whatever might be the issue, impunity at least was at an end. The delusion of the perfection of existing law was at an end; and the national conscience was appealed to, to denounce legal vengeance and cruelty, to substitute justice in their place. Hope had dawned for the most miserable classes of society; for, while some of the first men in the nation were contending for an amelioration of the criminal law in parliament, one of the first women of her time was going through the prisons, to watch over and enlighten the victims of sin and ignorance. The admission of a new order of men into the cabinet; the bending of the old order, even of the iron duke himself, to their policy; the emancipation of Dissenters and Catholics; the adoption of some measures on behalf of slaves; the partial adoption of free-trade; the continued ameliorations of the criminal law

through the efforts of Sir S. Romilly, Mr. Peel, and Sir James Mackintosh; and the interest excited in the condition of prisoners by the exertions of Mrs. Fry—are features in the domestic policy of England which must mark for ever as illustrious the first reign succeeding the peace.

Its chief misfortune, perhaps, is that it introduced a method, which some consider a principle of governmentwhich cannot, from its nature, be permanent, and which no one would wish to be so. Now began, with the Catholic relief measure, that practice of granting to clamour and intimidation what would not otherwise have been granted, which has ever since been the most unfavourable feature of our political history. The mischief began with the delay in granting the Catholics their fair claims; and those who caused that delay are answerable for the mischief. They are doubtless right in deprecating the evil, and in calling it a revolutionary symptom or fact; but they are wrong in laying it at any door but their own. It was not till the Whigs came into power that the greatness of the evil was evident to everybody; and then, when the Whigs alone were blamed for it, the censure was unjust. The earlier liberal measures were pushed forward in good time. Mr. Canning's foreign policy, and Mr. Huskisson's free-trade, and all the ameliorations of the, criminal law, were the results of the ideas of the men who offered them; offered before the nation was ready to demand them in a way not to be refused. With Catholic emancipation the change The leading members of the government avowed their disinclination for the measure, and that it was extorted by necessity. In the story which we shall have next to tell, we shall see the consequences. They did not appear immediately; for, though reform of parliament would have been extorted from an unwilling government, there was happily a willing government ready to grant it. It was as much the result of the ideas of the men who gave it as Mr. Canning's foreign policy, and Mr. Huskisson's free-trade; and all the world knew that the members of the government had advocated this reform for long years past, through evil and through good report; and they could, therefore, now bestow the boon with con

came.