light and ornament
of the age he lived in,--the expectations of the public: in this light I
have lost more than any subject in England; but this is light,--public
advantages confined to myself do not, ought not, to weigh with me. But
we have lost the refuge of private distress--the balm of the afflicted
heart the shelter of the miserable against the fury of private
adversity; the arts, the graces, the anguish, the misfortunes of
society, have lost their patron and their remedy.

'I have lost my companion--my protector--the friend that loved me, that
condescended to hear, to communicate, to share in all the pleasures and
pains of the human heart: where the social affections and emotions of
the mind only presided without regard to the infinite disproportion of
my rank and condition. This is a wound that cannot, ought not to heal.
If I pretended to fortitude here, I should be infamous--a monster of
ingratitude--and unworthy of all consolation, if I was not
inconsolable.'

'Thank you,' writes the shrewd Horace Walpole, addressing Sir Horace
Mann, 'for the transcript from _Bulb de Tristibus_. I will keep your
secret, though I am persuaded that a man who had composed such a funeral
oration on his master had himself fully intended that its flowers should
not bloom and wither in obscurity.'

Well might George II., seeing him go to court say: 'I see Dodington here
sometimes, what does he come for?'

It was, however, clearly seen what he went for, when, in 1753, two years
after the death of his 'benefactor,' Dodington humbly offered His
Majesty his services in the house, and 'five members,' for the rest of
his life, if His Majesty would give Mr. Pelham leave to employ him for
His Majesty's service. Nevertheless he continued to advise with the
Princess of Wales, and to drop into her house as if it had been a
sister's house--sitting on a stool near the fireside, and listening to
her accounts of her children.

In the midst of these intrigues for favour on the part of Dodington, Mr.
Pelham died, and was succeeded by his brother, the Duke of Newcastle,
the issue of whose administration is well known.

In 1760 death again befriended the now veteran wit, beau and politician.
George II. died; and the intimacy which Dodington had always taken care
to preserve between himself and the Princess of Wales, ended
advantageously for him; and he instantly, in spite of all his former
professions to Pelham, joined hand and heart with that mi