hing but a great simulacrum. His sire and grandsires were men. One
knows what they were like: what they would do in given circumstances: that
on occasion they fought and demeaned themselves like tough good soldiers.
They had friends whom they liked according to their natures; enemies whom
they hated fiercely; passions, and actions, and individualities of their
own. The sailor king who came after George was a man: the Duke of York was
a man, big, burly, loud, jolly, cursing, courageous. But this George, what
was he? I look through all his life, and recognize but a bow and a grin. I
try and take him to pieces, and find silk stockings, padding, stays, a
coat with frogs and a fur collar, a star and blue ribbon, a
pocket-handkerchief prodigiously scented, one of Truefitt's best nutty
brown wigs reeking with oil, a set of teeth and a huge black stock,
under-waistcoats, more under-waistcoats, and then nothing. I know of no
sentiment that he ever distinctly uttered. Documents are published under
his name, but people wrote them--private letters, but people spelt them. He
put a great "George P." or "George R." at the bottom of the page and
fancied he had written the paper: some bookseller's clerk, some poor
author, some _man_ did the work; saw to the spelling, cleaned up the
slovenly sentences, and gave the lax maudlin slipslop a sort of
consistency. He must have had an individuality: the dancing-master whom he
emulated, nay, surpassed--the wig-maker who curled his toupee for him--the
tailor who cut his coats, had that. But, about George, one can get at
nothing actual. That outside, I am certain, is pad and tailor's work;
there may be something behind, but what? We cannot get at the character;
no doubt never shall. Will men of the future have nothing better to do
than to unswathe and interpret that royal old mummy? I own I once used to
think it would be good sport to pursue him, fasten on him, and pull him
down. But now I am ashamed to mount and lay good dogs on, to summon a full
field, and then to hunt the poor game.

On the 12th August, 1762, the forty-seventh anniversary of the accession
of the House of Brunswick to the English throne, all the bells in London
pealed in gratulation, and announced that an heir to George III was born.
Five days afterwards the king was pleased to pass letters patent under the
great seal, creating H.R.H. the Prince of Great Britain, Electoral Prince
of Brunswick-Lueneburg, Duke of Cornwall and Rothsa