Frederick’s conduct seems to have arisen from a fear of its being supposed that he was governed by others. Had it been the Queen’s interest to rule him by letting him suppose that he was free from the influence of others, she would have done it as readily and as easily as in the case of the King. The Queen considered him so far unambitious that he did not long for his father’s death; but Lord Hervey showed her that if _he_ did not, the creditors who had lent him money, payable with interest at the King’s decease, were less delicate in this matter; and that the demise of the King might be so profitable to many as to make the monarch’s speedy death a consummation devoutly to be wished. The life of the Sovereign was thus put in present peril, and Lord Hervey suggested to the Queen that it would be well were a bill brought into parliament, making it a capital offence for any man to lend money for a premium at the King’s death. ‘To be sure,’ replied the Queen, ‘it ought to be so; and pray talk a little with Sir Robert Walpole about it.’ Meanwhile, Frederick Prince of Wales exhibited a liberality which charmed the public generally, rather than his creditors in particular, by forwarding 500_l._ to the Lord Mayor for the purpose of releasing poor freemen of the City from prison. The act placed the prince in strong contrast with his father, who had been squandering large sums in Germany. The King’s departure from Hanover for England took place in the night of the 7th to the 8th of December, after one of those brilliant and festive farewell suppers which were now given on such occasions by the Circe or the Cynthia of the hour. Wine and tears, no doubt, flowed abundantly; but, as soon as the scene could be decently brought to an end, the royal lover departed, and arrived on the 11th at Helvoetsluys. His daughter Anne was lying sick, almost to death, at the Hague, where her life had with difficulty been purchased by the sacrifice of that of the little daughter she had borne. The King, however, had not leisure for the demonstration of any parental affection, and he hurried on without even enquiring after the condition of his child. Matter-of-fact people are usually tender, and, if not tender, courteously decent people. The King was a matter-of-fact person enough, but even in this he acted like those highly refined and sentimental persons in whom affection is ever on their lips and venom in their hearts.