the sentence referring to the
exercise of undue influence. His suggestion was accepted, and the
House proceeded to discuss the amendment as so altered. After a
protracted debate the division was called for, when it was found that
155 members had voted for the amendment and 95 against it. This
victory stripped Burgoyne's resolutions of all their sting. Vainly
did a member of his party attempt to restore the battle by moving
that Clive had abused the {209}powers intrusted to him in acting as
he avowedly had acted. The House refused to re-open that question.
Finally, at five o'clock in the morning, the House passed the
following resolution, which consummated the defeat of Burgoyne: 'That
Robert, Lord Clive, did, at the same time, render great and
meritorious services to his country.' On this conclusion to the
violent attacks on Clive, Lord Stanhope, well versed in Parliamentary
procedure, thus wrote: 'Such a vote might be deemed almost a verdict
of acquittal. Certainly, at least, it showed a wise reluctance to
condemn. It closed the whole case, and Clive had no further
Parliamentary attack to fear.'

But though the victory was gained, the struggle affecting the
personal honour and fortune of a proud and sensitive man had made
deep inroads upon the constitution of one who had been long suffering
from the acute agony caused by the malady contracted in India. Freed
from the attack of his enemies, he might, had his health been only
tolerable, have looked forward to a high command in the war just
about to break out with the colonists of North America. There he
would have been in his place; there, under the influence of constant
action, he would have forgotten his troubles; even his oft-recurring
spasms might have disappeared. But, after the Parliamentary contest
was over, with the waning of the ever-present excitement, his health
became worse. In vain did he repair to Bath to try the effect of its
waters. In vain, finding that for him the virtues of the Bath waters
had {210}departed, did he proceed to the Continent for travel. Rest
came not. A complication of disorders prevented sleep, and travel
failed to remedy the evil. His mind had no longer the sustaining
power which in former days had enabled him to meet with tranquillity
the frowns of Fortune. He returned to England in 1774, and shortly
afterwards, in November of that year, when apparently thoroughly
conscious,[7] fell by his own hand. 'To the last,' wrote Lord
Stanhop