The courage of the latter rose, however, as persecution waxed hotter; and the advisers who now stood by her, of whom Mr. Perceval was the chief, were doubly stimulated by political as well as personal feelings. The Princess continued to address vigorous appeals to the King, whose intellect was beginning to be too weak to comprehend, and his eyesight too feeble for him to be able to read them. Their cry was still for justice; they claimed for her a public reception at court, and apartments in some one of the royal palaces, as more befitting her condition. Intimation, too, was made that if the justice demanded were not awarded her, a full detail of the whole affair, taken from the view held of it by the advisers of the Princess, would be forthwith published. It is said that the menace touched even Queen Charlotte herself, who had a dread of ‘THE BOOK,’ as it was emphatically called, upon which Mr. Perceval was known to be busily engaged, and which it was feared he was about to publish. But the temporary triumph of the Princess was at hand. In March 1807 the Grenville administration, the members of which were known to be favourites with the Queen and enemies of the Princess of Wales, retired from office, and within a month the new ministry advised the King that the complete innocence of the Princess had been established, and that it would be well for him to receive her at court in a manner suitable to her rank and station. The ministers present at the meeting of council when this advice was rendered were Lord Chancellor Eldon, Lord President Camden, Lord Privy Seal Westmoreland, the Duke of Portland, the Earl of Chatham, the Earl of Bathurst, Viscount Castlereagh, Lord Mulgrave, Mr. Canning, and Lord Hawkesbury. In May 1807 the Princess was accordingly received at court, at a drawing-room held by Queen Charlotte. The latter illustrious lady exhibited no demeanour by which it could be construed that she was happy to see her daughter-in-law. The utmost honour paid her was a cold and rigid courtesy. The Queen was again ‘civil, but stiff.’ The nobility and gentry present were more expansive in the warmth of their welcome. From them the Princess received a homage of apparently cordial respect. Sir Jonah Barrington, in his ‘Personal Sketches of his own Times,’ gives a rather different description of the scene, at which he was present. From this account we collect that the Princess, leaning on the arm of the Duke of Cumberland, appeared in deep mourning--for her father. She ‘tottered’ up to the Queen, as if fearing a repulsive welcome. The reception of her was ‘kind’ on the Queen’s part, ‘and a paroxysm of spirits seemed to succeed, and mark a strange contrast to the manner of her entry. I thought it was too sudden and too decisive. She spoke much and loud, and rather bold. Her circle was crowded, the presentations numerous, but on the whole she lost ground in my estimation.’