All the reflections made upon the death of the prince were not so simple of quality as those of the Duchess of Somerset. Horace Walpole cites a preacher at Mayfair Chapel, who ‘improved’ the occasion after this not very satisfactory or conclusive fashion: ‘He had no great parts, but he had great virtues--indeed, they degenerated into vices. He was very generous; but I hear his generosity has ruined a great many people; and then, his condescension was such that he kept very bad company.’ Not less known, and yet claiming a place here, is the smart Jacobite epitaph, so little flattering to the dead, that had all Spartan epitaphs been as little laudatory, the Ephori would have never issued a decree entirely prohibiting them. It was to this effect: Here lies Fred, Who was alive and is dead! Had it been his father, I had much rather. Had it been his brother, Still better than another. Had it been his sister, No one could have missed her. Had it been the whole generation, Still better for the nation: But since ’tis only Fred, Who was alive and is dead, There is no more to be said. I have not mentioned among those who were the frequenters of his court the name of Lady Huntingdon. Frederick had the good sense to appreciate Lady Huntingdon, and he did not despise her because of a little misdirected enthusiasm. On missing her from his circle, he enquired of the gay, but subsequently the godly, Lady Charlotte Edwin, where Lady Huntingdon could be, that he no longer saw her at his court. ‘Oh, I dare say,’ exclaimed the unconcerned Lady Charlotte--‘I dare say she is praying with her beggars!’ Frederick had the good sense and the courage to turn sharply round upon her, and say: ‘Lady Charlotte, when I am dying I think I shall be happy to seize the skirt of Lady Huntingdon’s mantle to lift me up to Heaven.’ This phrase was not forgotten when the adapter of Cibber’s ‘Nonjuror’ turned that play into the ‘Hypocrite,’ and, introducing the fanatic Mawworm, put into his mouth a sentiment uttered for the sake of the laugh which it never failed to raise, but which originated, in sober sadness, with Frederick, Prince of Wales.