ette which announced that Sunderland been appointed Chamberlain
of the Royal Household, sworn of the Privy Council, and named one of the
Lords Justices who were to administer the government during the summer
had caused great uneasiness among plain men who remembered all the
windings and doublings of his long career. In truth, his countrymen
were unjust to him. For they thought him, not only an unprincipled and
faithless politician, which he was, but a deadly enemy of the liberties
of the nation, which he was not. What he wanted was simply to be safe,
rich and great. To these objects he had been constant through all the
vicissitudes of his life. For these objects he had passed from Church
to Church and from faction to faction, had joined the most turbulent
of oppositions without any zeal for freedom, and had served the most
arbitrary of monarchs without any zeal for monarchy; had voted for
the Exclusion Bill without being a Protestant, and had adored the Host
without being a Papist; had sold his country at once to both the great
parties which divided the Continent; had taken money from France, and
had sent intelligence to Holland. As far, however, as he could be said
to have any opinions, his opinions were Whiggish. Since his return from
exile, his influence had been generally exerted in favour of the Whig
party. It was by his counsel that the Great Seal had been entrusted
to Somers, that Nottingham had been sacrificed to Russell, and that
Montague had been preferred to Fox. It was by his dexterous management
that the Princess Anne had been detached from the opposition, and that
Godolphin had been removed from the head of the hoard of Treasury. The
party which Sunderland had done so much to serve now held a new pledge
for his fidelity. His only son, Charles Lord Spencer, was just entering
on public life. The precocious maturity of the young man's intellectual
and moral character had excited hopes which were not destined to
be realized. His knowledge of ancient literature, and his skill in
imitating the styles of the masters of Roman eloquence, were applauded
by veteran scholars. The sedateness of his deportment and the apparent
regularity of his life delighted austere moralists. He was known indeed
to have one expensive taste; but it was a taste of the most respectable
kind. He loved books, and was bent or forming the most magnificent
private library in England. While other heirs of noble houses were
inspecting patterns of