the long and bitter persecution he has undergone, and many domestic misfortunes, would extract every sting which exact or necessary justice did not sharpen. The last transaction I am going to mention flowing notoriously from his dispensation, was of a nature not to be palliated or forgotten. To see it in its full force of indignity offered to so mighty a country, the reader must place himself at the moment when England, triumphant over France and Spain, had annihilated their navies, and sat sole arbitress of peace and war, absolutely secure that Europe combined could not wrench her conquests from her, and sure of proving her moderation by consenting to peace on almost whatever terms she should please to dictate. At that moment did a pusillanimous favourite not only make peace, relinquishing the greater and most valuable part of our acquisitions, but (what never entered into the imagination of distress and slavery itself) he purchased that scandalous peace of the envoy of a little prince, who was not even a party in the war! In short, it now came out, that a pension on Ireland of one thousand pounds a year for thirty-one years to Count Virri,[331] the Sardinian Minister, through whose hands the real negotiation[332] had passed, was the price and tribute of that shame which Lord Bute, by the treaty of Paris, heaped on Great Britain! The very day on which the Favourite resigned the reins of government died the man who, of all England, would perhaps have rejoiced the most to behold that event. James Earl Waldegrave was carried off by the small-pox, April 8th. With unbounded benevolence, and of the most flowing courtesy to all men, Lord Waldegrave, whose penetration no weakness could escape, nor art impose upon, though vice he overlooked, and only abstained sometimes from connecting with black and bad men,--Lord Waldegrave, I say, had been so thoroughly fatigued with the insipidity of his pupil the King, and so harassed and unworthily treated by the Princess and Lord Bute, that no one of the most inflammable vengeance, or of the coolest resentment, could harbour more bitter hatred and contempt than he did for the King’s mother and favourite. This aversion carried him to what I scarce believed my eyes when he first showed me--severe satires against them. He has left behind him, too, some Memoirs[333] of the few years in which he was governor to the Prince, that will corroborate many things I have asserted, and will not tend to make these Anecdotes be reckoned unjust and unmerciful.