not listen to him! No wonder that the clergy were corrupt
and indifferent amidst this indifference and corruption. No wonder that
sceptics multiplied and morals degenerated, so far as they depended on the
influence of such a king. No wonder that Whitfield cried out in the
wilderness, that Wesley quitted the insulted temple to pray on the
hillside. I look with reverence on those men at that time. Which is the
sublimer spectacle--the good John Wesley, surrounded by his congregation of
miners at the pit's mouth, or the queen's chaplains mumbling through their
morning office in their ante-room, under the picture of the great Venus,
with the door opened into the adjoining chamber, where the queen is
dressing, talking scandal to Lord Hervey, or uttering sneers at Lady
Suffolk, who is kneeling with the basin at her mistress's side? I say I am
scared as I look round at this society--at this king, at these courtiers,
at these politicians, at these bishops--at this flaunting vice and levity.
Whereabouts in this Court is the honest man? Where is the pure person one
may like? The air stifles one with its sickly perfumes. There are some
old-world follies and some absurd ceremonials about our Court of the
present day, which I laugh at, but as an Englishman, contrasting it with
the past, shall I not acknowledge the change of to-day? As the mistress of
St. James's passes me now, I salute the sovereign, wise, moderate,
exemplary of life; the good mother; the good wife; the accomplished lady;
the enlightened friend of art; the tender sympathizer in her people's
glories and sorrows.

Of all the Court of George and Caroline, I find no one but Lady Suffolk
with whom it seems pleasant and kindly to hold converse. Even the
misogynist Croker, who edited her letters, loves her, and has that regard
for her with which her sweet graciousness seems to have inspired almost
all men and some women who came near her. I have noted many little traits
which go to prove the charms of her character (it is not merely because
she is charming, but because she is characteristic, that I allude to her).
She writes delightfully sober letters. Addressing Mr. Gay at Tunbridge (he
was, you know, a poet, penniless and in disgrace), she says: "The place
you are in, has strangely filled your head with physicians and cures; but,
take my word for it, many a fine lady has gone there to drink the waters
without being sick; and many a man has complained of the loss of his
hea