“.... The Duke of Newcastle, after his resignation, had a very numerous levée, but somebody observed to him, there were but two bishops, present. He is said to have replied, that bishops like other men, were too apt to forget their maker. I think this has been said for him, or the resignation of power has much brightened his understanding; for of whatever he may be accused, the crime of wit was never laid to his charge.” Walpole states, with regard to the prelates at the old duke’s levée: “As I suppose all bishops are prophets, they foresee that he will never come into place again; for there was but one that had the decency to take leave of him, after crowding his rooms for forty years together: it was Cornwallis.” The duke went out on finding he had no chance of carrying a pecuniary aid to Prussia. If he was almost a fool, as some kind friends said, he had the wisdom to keep in place longer than any of his contemporaries. He was succeeded as Prime Minister by Lord Bute. Cornwallis, Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, reaped the reward of his fidelity. He was promoted to the Archbishopric of Canterbury in 1768. It should be added to the honour of the duke, who, however mentally ill-endowed and eccentric, was a gentleman in practice, that he declined a pension on his retirement. He might be incapable of serving his country, he said, but England should certainly not find him a burthen. Chesterfield cites, as an example of his timidity, the duke’s childish fear at Lord Chesterfield’s bill for correcting the calendar, and, as a proof of his integrity, the fact that “he retired from business above four hundred thousand pounds poorer than when he engaged in it.” The duke left “business” in a considerable amount of confusion. In a letter dated July 27, 1762, Mrs. Scott writes to Mr. Robinson at Rome, after much small talk on babies and jokes on prophesied lyingsin, in these words: “Political disputes never ran so high in print as at present. The periodical papers are numerous and abusive to the greatest degree. By what I hear, the lawyers find it some substitution for the decay of business in the courts; for the minority papers regularly undergo the inspection of council learned in the law before they are published, that the authors who stand on the very verge of treason may not, by some inadvertency, make a _faux pas_ that will throw them down the precipice; and some persons of consequence are under engagements to the printer to indemnify him should the heavy hand of authority oppress him.... “... The king has given Johnson a pension of £300 per annum,—a necessary step for one who wishes to be thought the patron of literature, and what every one must approve.”