ongue was the English tongue; and if
he was Elector of Hanover, that seemed an accident.

The title was as unimportant and trivial to the King of {2} England as
his title of King of France was unreal and theatrical. The remnant of
the Jacobites could not with truth call the heir to the throne a
foreigner, and they could not in reason hope to make such a
demonstration in arms against him as they had made against his
grandfather and his great-grandfather. The young King came to a much
safer throne under much more favorable auspices than either of the two
monarchs, his kinsmen and his namesakes, who had gone before him.

[Sidenote: 1760--Accession of George the Third]

The young King heard the first formal news of his accession to the
throne from the lips of no less stately a personage than the Great
Commoner himself--the foremost Englishman then alive. George the
Third, as he then actually was, had received at Kew Palace some
messages which told him that his grandfather was sinking fast, that he
was dying, that he was dead. George resolved to start for London. On
his way, and not far from Kew, he was met by a coach and six, which,
from the blue and silver liveries, he knew to be that of Mr. Pitt.
George received the congratulations of his great minister--the great
Minister whom, as it was soon to appear, he understood so little and
esteemed so poorly. Then Pitt, turning his horses' heads, followed his
sovereign into London. Never perhaps in English history was a young
king welcomed on his accession by so great a minister. Among the many
auspicious conditions which surrounded the early days of George the
Third's reign not the least auspicious was the presence of such a
bulwark to the throne and to the realm. For the name of Pitt was now
feared and honored in every civilized country in the world. It had
become synonymous with the triumphs and the greatness of England. Pitt
was the greatest War Minister England had yet known. He was the first
English statesman who illustrated in his own person the difference
between a War Minister and a Minister of War.

Truly this journey of the King and the Prime Minister from Kew to
London was what George Meredith calls a "supreme ironic procession,
with laughter of gods in the background." The ignorant, unwise young
King led the {3} way, the greatest living statesman in England followed
after. One can hardly imagine a procession more supremely ironic.
Almost all the who