This audacity was also noticed by Addison, in the ‘Freeholder.’ ‘It is impossible,’ he wrote, ‘to reflect with patience on the Folly and Ingratitude of the Men who labour to disturb the King in the midst of his Royal Cares and to misrepresent his generous Endeavours for the Good of his People.’ Under a Stuart, the English people would be in helpless slavery. Under a king like George, there would be freedom――perhaps with some dissensions, but, ‘a disturbed Liberty,’ it had been well said, ‘is better than a quiet Servitude.’ Subsequently, he praised a healthy despotism, and remarked that under Augustus (the Whig poets called George ‘Augustus’), Rome was happier than when she was in possession of her ancient liberty! What a prince Augustus must be, seeing that when he left Hanover, ‘his whole people were in tears!’ All other monarchs sought his counsel and friendship. No man retired from his presence but with admiration of his wisdom and goodness. Addison professed, therefore, to be unable to account for the fact that his royal client should still suffer under the attacks of malicious tongues and more malicious pens. [Sidenote: _ON THE SILVER THAMES._] There seemed nothing but enthusiasm on the part of the people, at all events, of the Whigs, when the Prince and Princess of Wales took the young princesses on the river. The royal barge thus pleasantly freighted, and quite unguarded, was a familiar object between London and Greenwich. The Thames was often the scene of more splendid spectacles than the above. On the 5th of June, the Duke of Newcastle was the giver of one of those gay and gorgeous entertainments. His Grace was early afloat in his new barge, pulled by a dozen rowers, in new liveries. He was soon joined by the Duke of Montague, the Earl of Carnarvon, and other members of ‘the quality,’ in similar state. Last of all came the Prince and Princess in royal barges, scarlet and gold, flags flying, trumpets proclaiming, while cannon and human throats on the shores roared their rough welcome. As the royal barges glided into the space left for them within a half-circle of other brilliant galleys, the Haymarket orchestra, especially engaged, gave to the royal guests a most harmonious welcome. In the simpler record of this aquatic festival we are told that ‘There was a very fine cold Treat consisting of above eighty Dishes, the three principal Barges to be served in Place,’ whatever that may mean. When twilight descended upon the scene, the guests, landing, accompanied the Duke of Newcastle to his house at the north-west corner of Lincoln’s Inn Fields, where a magnificent ball and a sumptuous supper detained them till long after the dawning of another day. About this time, the Scottish gentleman, in lodgings in Rathbone Place, Simon Fraser, who had had public audience of the king, was received by his Majesty, in private. Fraser of Lovat thus wrote of what passed to Mr. Duncan Forbes:―― [Sidenote: _TWO PRETTY FELLOWS._]