The usual service was then proceeded with, and again the coincidence hunters sought for their favourite spoil. They found abundance of what they desired in the hundred-and-fortieth and the following psalms. But of these the phrases cut both ways, and perhaps there was no passage more personally applicable to the Queen, and some of those friends less in deed than in word, than where it is written, ‘Oh let not my heart be inclined to _any_ evil thing; let me not be occupied in ungodly works with the men that work wickedness, lest I eat such things as please them. Let the righteous rather smite me friendly, and reprove me. _But_ let not their precious balsam break my head; yea, I will pray yet against their wickedness.’ No especial form of thanksgiving was made use of in her Majesty’s name, but this was not needed. It was, however, imperative upon the clergy officiating to read the parenthetical clause in the General Thanksgiving prayer, which has immediate reference to the individual who desires to make an offering of human gratitude to God. This clause, however, was omitted! The Queen-consort of England was upon her knees upon the floor of the Cathedral, but the officiating minister virtually looked up to Him, and standing between Caroline and her Creator, exclaimed, ‘Lord, she is not here!’ The omission of the clause was tantamount to this. The people behaved better than the priests on that day; and yet it was one on which the priests might have found occasion to give valuable instruction to the people. Those of St. Paul’s mistook their mission on the day in question. This spiritual matter ended, the temporal welfare of the Queen had to be looked to. If she could have existed upon good wishes, she would have been wealthy, for never did congratulatory addresses pour in upon her as at the end of this year and the beginning of that which followed. But she needed something more substantial than good wishes, and the King himself acknowledged as much in a speech from the throne, delivered on the re-opening of parliament in January, 1821. His Majesty recommended that a separate provision should be made for the Queen-consort. She instantly declared her refusal of any provision that was not accompanied by the restoration of her name in the Liturgy. The condition was peremptorily declined by the government, and the income of 50,000_l._ a year was then accepted by the Queen. In this step she disappointed numberless friends, who would not have contributed a farthing to her maintenance. But stern necessity broke the pride of the poor lady, who was beginning to feel that a banker without ‘effects’ for her use was a worse thing than a Liturgy without her name. Her increased revenue enabled her to bear the expenses of a town establishment, which she now formed at Cambridge House, South Audley Street, but her favourite residence was still that on the banks of the Thames.