Lord George Gordon, shortly before his extraordinary conduct in 1780, said,—“This dunghill of contracts has given an ill air to our whole proceedings. It has got abroad, and proves very offensive to the public nostrils. Our constituents begin to smell a rat. They nose us in the lobby, and call us tailors and shoemakers, cobblers and cabbage-salters, potato forestallers, sour-krout makers, and swine contractors. The dignity, reputation, and fair fame of the Commoners is smothered and sinking in porter and salted cabbage, shoes, sour-krout, and potatoes.” Lords of trade ordered pewter inkstands by the hundred, sold them, and purchased silver ones with the money they produced; or ordered green velvet bags for official papers, and employed the velvet of which they were composed to make court dresses. Under the Pelham administration, members received regular stipends in bank-notes, from £500 to £800 yearly, varying according to the influence or ability of the senator. “This largess I distributed,” added the person who took charge of the delicate department,—and the particulars are worth enumerating,—“in the court of requests on the day of the prorogation of Parliament. I took my stand there; and as the gentlemen passed me, in going to or returning from the House, I conveyed the money in a squeeze of the hand. Whatever person received the ministerial bounty, I entered his name in a book which was preserved in the deepest secrecy, it being never inspected by any one but the king and Mr. Pelham.” This book was afterwards demanded of Mr. Roberts, the almoner, but he resolutely refused to yield it except by the king’s express command, or to his Majesty in person. In consequence of his refusal, the king sent for him to St. James’s, where he was introduced into the closet. He was then ordered to return the book in question, with which injunction Mr. Roberts immediately complied. At the same time, taking the poker in his hand, his Majesty put it into the fire, made it red hot, and, while the ministers and Mr. Roberts stood round him, he thrust the book into the flames, where it was immediately reduced to ashes. These evils were so manifest and manifold, that, after various attempts to pass a measure which should be some check on government, a bill was introduced, by which all contracts were made subject to a species of auction, although the minister was not compelled to accept the lowest offer.