He was certainly vain, and fond of having women about him, clever women especially, but there cannot be a scintilla of a doubt that he loved his wife devotedly, and, moreover, that she possessed the feminine attribute of attracting him through his senses, and holding him. The surest way of holding a husband. If, therefore, he was devotedly in love with his pretty wife, and she satisfied him in every way, as he admits in his verses to her, that she did, what attraction would two plain women--Lady Archibald Hamilton and Lady Middlesex have for him, one eight years older than himself and the mother of ten children; the other “short and dark like a winter’s day,” and as “yellow as a November morning?” “Ah, yes,” remarks one of his enemies, “beauty in the case of mistresses was never a necessity in the Prince’s family!” This assertion is quite wrong; George the Second’s mistresses, Mrs. Howard, Lady Deloraine, the Walmoden, were all exceedingly pretty, the little man, though coarse and vulgar, had a great eye for beauty, and if he could have got her--but he could not, she was a pure woman--he would have had one of the most beautiful girls in England, Mary Bellenden. In the Prince’s case, Miss Vane, the only mistress he was known to have had, was described as a very pretty girl, therefore he was not unacquainted with beauty. That Lady Archibald, and Lady Middlesex were bright, clever, witty women, useful to have in the Household can be understood; but to say that the Prince had turned his house into a seraglio as his grandfather George the First had done, is absurd. He was not the same kind of person; his tastes, his disposition, his feelings were utterly different. He lived in loose immoral times, and in all probability was not immaculate, but to say that he kept two plain mistresses in the same house as the pretty wife to whom he was absolutely devoted, and among the children he adored, is a vile calumny which emanated from persons who hated him for other reasons, and either could not, or _would_ not, understand his nature. Walpole accuses him of lying, but as usual gives no proof. Where are the lies? We know his father lied; it can be traced in history, but where are Frederick’s lies? In the numerous letters he wrote and which have appeared in these pages, especially those excusing the removal of his wife from Hampton Court, surely there would have been traceable some of these gross falsehoods of which he is accused. But there are none. Excuses, fencing apologies--and we can guess the reason--yes; but lies; no. Let us now turn to the other side, and hear what the impartial witnesses of his life say about him: Here is an extract from a letter written by the Duchess of Somerset to Dr. Doddridge: