le range of human intellect was stretched out and
exhausted by the living contrast between the King who went first and
the Minister who meekly went second. Pitt had made for young George
the Third a great empire, which it was the work of George the Third not
long after to destroy, so far as its destruction could be compassed by
the stupidity of a man. Pitt had made the name of England a power all
over the civilized world. Rome at her greatest, Spain at her greatest,
could hardly have surpassed the strength and the fame of England as
Pitt had re-made it. George, from the very first, felt a sort of
coldness towards his superb Minister. He had all the vague pervading
jealousy which dulness naturally shows to genius. It was a displeasure
to him from the first that Pitt should have made England so great,
because the work was the inspiration of the subject and not of the
sovereign. No one can know for certain what thoughts were filling the
mind of George as he rode to London that day in front of William Pitt.
But it may fairly be assumed that he was not particularly sorry for the
death of his grandfather, and that he was pleasing his spirit with the
idea that he would soon emancipate himself from Mr. Pitt. "Be a king,
George," his mother used to say to him. The unsifted youth was
determined, if he could, to be a king.

At the time of his accession George was in his twenty-third year. He
was a decidedly personable young Prince. He had the large regular
features of his race, the warm complexion of good health, and a
vigorous constitution, keen attractive eyes, and a firm, full mouth.
He was tall and strongly made, and carried himself with a carriage that
was dignified or stiff according to the interpretation of those who
observed it. Many of the courtly ladies thought him extremely
handsome, were eagerly gracious to him, did their best to thrust
themselves upon his attention, and received, it would seem, very little
notice in return for their pains. If George showed himself {4}
indifferent and even ungallant to his enthusiastic admirers, his
brother Edward was of a different disposition. But though Edward, like
his brother, was an agreeable-looking youth, and keen to win favor in
women's eyes, he found himself like Benedict: nobody marked him because
he was not the heir to the throne.

In some illustrated histories of the reign two portraits of George the
Third are placed in immediate and pathetic contrast. The