it became
apparent that not much good was any longer to be looked for from George
the Fourth. In 1818 William married the eldest daughter of the Duke of
Saxe-Meiningen, and had two daughters, both of whom died in their
infancy. The Duke of Clarence had been noted, during the greater part
of his career, for his roughness of manner, and many anecdotes of him
were spread about which might have suited well the fun of some
historian belonging to the school of Brantome, or some compiler of
memoirs after the fashion of Saint-Simon. Still he was the Sailor
King, and England had always, and naturally, loved sailors; and "go to
then," as might have been said in the days of Shakespeare, what further
explanation could be needed of the fact that William the Fourth opened
his career of royalty under favoring {98} auspices? It might seem to
the mind of some philosophical observer rather hard to get into
transports of enthusiasm about a new monarch aged sixty-five who during
all his previous career had done nothing of which to be particularly
proud, and had done many things of which a respectable person in
private life would have felt heartily ashamed. Still, the Duke of
Clarence had become William the Fourth, and was on the throne, and
great things might possibly be expected from him even yet, although he
was pretty well stricken in years. At all events, he was not George
the Fourth. So the public of these countries was in the mood to make
the best of him, and give him a loyal welcome, and wait for events with
the comfortable faith that even at sixty-five a man may begin a new
life, and find time and heart and intellect to do things of which no
promise whatever had been given during all his earlier years.

[Sidenote: 1830--The pocket boroughs]

William had been supposed up to the time of his accession to lean
towards the Whig, or what we should now call the Liberal party. His
manners were frank, familiar, and even rough. He cared little for
Court ceremonial of any kind, and was in the habit of walking about the
streets with his umbrella tucked under his arm, like any ordinary
Londoner. All this told rather in his favor, so far as the outer
public were concerned. There was supposed to be something rather
English, something rather typical of John Bull in the easy-going
manners of the new sovereign, which gave people an additional reason
for welcoming him. The new sovereign, however, had come in for times
of popular excite