The Duke of Newcastle, who had conquered every obstacle to power, but the aversion of his master, began to think he might as well add his favour to the other attributes of a Minister; and having overturned Lord Granville for his German adulation, was so equitable as to make the King amends by giving into all excess of it himself. There was one impediment; he had never been out of England, and dreaded the sea. After having consulted his numerous band of physicians[159] and apothecaries, he at last ventured; and himself and his gold plate,[160] and his mad Duchess, under a thousand various convoys, treated Europe with a more ridiculous spectacle than any it had seen since Caligula’s cockle-shell triumph. He was now at the height of his wishes, but was still unsatisfied. The connexion of the Duke with Lord Sandwich, and through him with the Duke of Bedford, had given him the uneasiness that was mentioned at the beginning of these Memoirs; and the Prince’s death having smoothed all opposition, it was determined by the brothers in their Cabinet Council, to dismiss their rivals, whose interest in the House of Commons could now turn no scale into which it might be thrown. The measure was taken to remove Lord Sandwich, and thereby provoke the Duke of Bedford to resign; or to give the latter some more insignificant post, as Master of the Horse, President of the Council, or Master of the Ordnance. Mr. Fox, who saw the insult that was aimed at the Duke, endeavoured as much as possible to save his honour, by persuading the Duke of Bedford to acquiesce in the latter plan, as he would have more opportunities of crossing his enemies while he staid at Court, than probability of returning thither if once totally removed. Lord Sandwich laboured the same point, and even hoped to be overlooked if he could persuade the Duke of Bedford to accept one of the other less obnoxious employments; but the Duke was swayed to the contrary opinion. He was a man of inflexible honesty, and good-will to his country: his great economy was called avarice; if it was so, it was blended with more generosity and goodness than that passion will commonly unite with. His parts were certainly far from shining, and yet he spoke readily, and upon trade, well: his foible was speaking upon every subject, and imagining he understood it, as he must have done, by inspiration. He was always governed; generally by the Duchess,[161] though immeasurably obstinate, when once he had formed or had an opinion instilled into him. His manner was impetuous, of which he was so little sensible, that being told Lord Halifax was to succeed him, he said, “He is too warm and overbearing; the King will never endure him.” If the Duke of Bedford could have thought less well of himself, the world would probably have thought better of him.