d his friends did, seas and
mountains. Now the time had come to show what they really could do;
and, behold, they could do nothing. An opposition has a safe time of
it which, being directly adverse on some distinct question, principle,
or policy to the party in power, it is able to say, "Let us come into
office and we will do the very opposite; we will try to undo all that
the present ministers have been doing," and is able to carry out the
pledge. But the opposition to Walpole had lived and flourished by
finding {243} fault with everything he did merely because it was he who
did it, and with his way of doing everything merely because it was his
way. Nothing can be easier than for a group of clever and unscrupulous
men to make it hot for even the strongest minister if they will only
adopt such a plan of action. This was the plan of action of the
Patriots, and they carried it out boldly, thoroughly, brilliantly, and
successfully. But now that they had come into office they found that
they had not come into power. The claim to power had still to be
earned for them by the success of their administration; and what was
there for them to do? Nothing--positively nothing--but just what their
defeated opponents had been trying to do. Hanoverian policy,
Hanoverian subsidies, foreign soldiers, standing armies--these were the
crimes for which Walpole's administration had been unsparingly
assailed. But now came Carteret, and Carteret was on the whole rather
more Hanoverian than the King himself. Pulteney? Why, such influence
as Pulteney still had left was given to support Newcastle and Pelham,
Walpole's own pupils and followers, in carrying out Carteret's
Hanoverian policy.

[Sidenote: 1743--An irreparable mistake]

Carteret set up Lord Bath as leader of the Administration. The two
Pelhams--the Duke of Newcastle and his brother, Henry Pelham--were
tremendously strong in family influence, in money, in retainers,
led-captains, and hangers-on of all kinds. Pulteney, who had always
held a seat nominally in the Cabinet, although he had hitherto clung to
his determination not to take office, now suddenly thought fit to
change his mind. Probably he already regretted deeply the fatal
mistake which had made him refuse to accept any office on the fall of
Walpole. Perhaps he had fancied that the country and the Government
never could get on without him, and that he would have been literally
forced to withdraw his petulant sel