of State for a generation, and the brother of the late First Minister. The House of Commons, moreover, consisted mainly of his creatures. His nomination to the premiership was easy and simple enough. But a formidable difficulty at once presented itself. Who should lead the House of Commons? It was not that there was a dearth of capable men; on the contrary, there was a terrible embarrassment of riches; for there were Fox, Pitt, and Murray, all men of the first eminence in their lines. Murray at once let it be known that his views lay in another direction; in any case, he was a Scotsman, which was little recommendation, and suspected of being a Jacobite, which was less. But Fox was on the spot, and, though distracted with anxiety for his child Charles, who lay dangerously ill,[249] prompt, vigilant, and eager. Within a few hours of Pelham's death he had sent three humble messages of apology to Hardwicke, with whom he was on terms of bitter enmity, made energetic advances to Newcastle, and had called at Pitt's London house. Soon afterwards he was closeted with Lord Hartington. It was obvious that no considerations of delicacy would stand in his way. But there were strong prejudices against him. Hardwicke feared his success, for they had quarrelled mortally. He belonged, said the Chancellor, 'to a very narrow clique, many of them of the worst sort.' His claims rested on his abilities, but even more on the friendship of the Duke of Cumberland; perhaps, too, on a presumed pliability.