not sufficient. Next day he must write again to say to Lord Temple, 'that I am more yours than my own, and that I equally love and revere the kindest of brothers and the noblest of men.' Language less ecstatic would better have become a great man accepting a serious pecuniary obligation. In truth Pitt never had any scrupulous idea of personal independence. He had accepted a borough from Newcastle, whom he then suspected and despised. Now it was an allowance from Temple, whom, from close intimacy and kinship, he must have known to be an intriguing politician, who was not likely to give without expecting return. A few years hence it was to be a pension from the Crown. With regard to money indeed he had no very careful or exalted standard. In such matters he was indifferent, reckless, and heedless of any nicety of scruple, except as regards the public. He never seems to have considered how important solvency is to character. He was always, after his marriage, quite unnecessarily, in desperate straits for money. Indifference to the fact that pecuniary independence is a main though not necessary base of moral independence was a flaw in his own life, and was the worst inheritance that he transmitted to his illustrious son. The announcement of Legge's successor at the Exchequer provoked universal hilarity. It was Lyttelton. We have seen that in the last debate Pitt had turned with fierce scorn on his former ally. No doubt he was aware of Lyttelton's approaching elevation. But their historic friendship had been dissolved for a year. In November 1754, at the heedless or mischievous instance of the younger Horace Walpole, Lyttelton, with the best intentions and the most inane execution possible, had hurried off, without consultation with his friend, to effect a reconciliation between Newcastle, Pitt's enemy, and Bedford, who was allied to Pitt by a common hatred of the Minister. Newcastle received the negotiator with his wonted effervescence, and gave or appeared to give full powers. Away sped Lyttelton, bursting with the importance of an amateur diplomatist. But at the mere mention of his mission the other Duke nearly kicked the messenger of peace downstairs, and at once communicated the secret overture to Pitt. The result to Lyttelton was for the moment unmixed disaster. Pitt publicly broke with him, Newcastle of course disowned him, he indeed disowned himself. Henceforth he was banned by the Cousinhood, and incurred a wrath and vengeance as implacable as that of the Carbonari. Now, however, he had his reward, for it can scarcely be doubted that his elevation to the Exchequer was intended partly as a plaster for his diplomatic wounds, partly as an annoyance to the party of Pitt. Any motive indeed but fitness for the office can be suggested for his promotion, to which he was lured by the promise of a peerage.[306] If, however, the annoyance it would cause to his late friends was a reason, it failed in its object.