least, was not a
worse king than his neighbours. He claimed and took the royal exemption
from doing right which sovereigns assumed. A dull little man of low tastes
he appears to us in England; yet Hervey tells us that this choleric prince
was a great sentimentalist, and that his letters--of which he wrote
prodigious quantities--were quite dangerous in their powers of fascination.
He kept his sentimentalities for his Germans and his queen. With us
English, he never chose to be familiar. He has been accused of avarice,
yet he did not give much money, and did not leave much behind him. He did
not love the fine arts, but he did not pretend to love them. He was no
more a hypocrite about religion than his father. He judged men by a low
standard; yet, with such men as were near him, was he wrong in judging as
he did? He readily detected lying and flattery, and liars and flatterers
were perforce his companions. Had he been more of a dupe he might have
been more amiable. A dismal experience made him cynical. No boon was it to
him to be clear-sighted, and see only selfishness and flattery round about
him. What could Walpole tell him about his Lords and Commons, but that
they were all venal? Did not his clergy, his courtiers, bring him the same
story? Dealing with men and women in his rude, sceptical way, he comes to
doubt about honour, male and female, about patriotism, about religion. "He
is wild, but he fights like a man," George I, the taciturn, said of his
son and successor. Courage George II certainly had. The Electoral Prince,
at the head of his father's contingent, had approved himself a good and
brave soldier under Eugene and Marlborough. At Oudenarde he specially
distinguished himself. At Malplaquet the other claimant to the English
throne won but little honour. There was always a question about James's
courage. Neither then in Flanders, nor afterwards in his own ancient
kingdom of Scotland, did the luckless Pretender show much resolution. But
dapper little George had a famous tough spirit of his own, and fought like
a Trojan. He called out his brother of Prussia, with sword and pistol; and
I wish, for the interest of romancers in general, that that famous duel
could have taken place. The two sovereigns hated each other with all their
might; their seconds were appointed; the place of meeting was settled; and
the duel was only prevented by strong representations made to the two, of
the European laughter which would have been