e been expected from a long and almost unbroken series of
victories, by land and sea, in every part of the world. But the only
effect of Bute's domestic administration was to make faction wilder, and
corruption fouler than ever.

The mutual animosity of the Whig and Tory parties had begun to languish
after the fall of Walpole, and had seemed to be almost extinct at the
close of the reign of George the Second. It now revived in all its
force. Many Whigs, it is true, were still in office. The Duke of Bedford
had signed the treaty with France. The Duke of Devonshire, though much
out of humor, still continued to be Lord Chamberlain. Grenville, who led
the House of Commons, and Fox, who still enjoyed in silence the immense
gains of the Pay Office, had always been regarded as strong Whigs. But
the bulk of the party throughout the country regarded the new minister
with abhorrence. There was, indeed, no want of popular themes for
invective against his character. He was a favorite; and favorites have
always been odious in this country. No mere favorite had been at the
head of the government since the dagger of Felton had reached the heart
of the Duke of Buckingham. After that event, the most arbitrary and the
most frivolous of the Stuarts had felt the necessity of confiding the
chief direction of affairs to men who had given some proof of
parliamentary or official talent. Strafford, Falkland, Clarendon,
Clifford, Shaftesbury, Lauderdale, Danby, Temple, Halifax, Rochester,
Sunderland, whatever their faults might be, were all men of acknowledged
ability. They did not owe their eminence merely to the favor of the
sovereign. On the contrary, they owed the favor of the sovereign to
their eminence: Most of them, indeed, had first attracted the notice of
the court by the capacity and vigor which they had shown in opposition.
The Revolution seemed to have forever secured the state against the
domination of a Carr or a Villiers. Now, however, the personal regard of
the King had at once raised a man who had seen nothing of public
business, who had never opened his lips in Parliament, over the heads of
a crowd of eminent orators, financiers, diplomatists. From a private
gentleman, this fortunate minion had at once been turned into a
Secretary of State. He had made his maiden speech when at the head of
the administration. The vulgar resorted to a simple explanation of the
phenomenon, and the coarsest ribaldry against the Princess Mother was