Rigby, “Conway is Bute’s man.” “Pray,” said Dowdeswell, “is not Charles Townshend Bute’s?” “Ay, but Conway is governed by his brother Hertford, who is Bute’s.” “So is Charles Townshend by his brother,[26] who is Bute’s.” “But Lady Ailesbury[27] is a Scotchwoman.” “So is Lady Dalkeith.[28]” From this dialogue the assembly fell to wrangle, and broke up quarrelling. So high did the heats go, that the Cavendishes ran about the town, publishing the issue of the conference, and taxing the Bedfords with treachery. Notwithstanding this, the same evening the Duke of Bedford sent to desire another interview, to which Lord Rockingham yielded; but the Duke of Richmond refused to be present. So much, however, were the minds on both sides ulcerated by former and recent disputes, and so incompatible were their views, that the second meeting broke up in a final quarrel; and Lord Rockingham released the other party from all their engagements. The Duke of Bedford desired they might still continue friends--that was, at least, agree to oppose together. Lord Rockingham said, No; they were broken for ever.[29] It was at this meeting that the Duke of Newcastle appeared for the last time[30] in a political light. Age and feebleness at length wore out that busy passion for intrigue, which power had not been able to satiate, nor disgrace correct. He languished above a year longer, but was heard of no more on the scene of affairs. Chance and folly having thus dispersed those clouds that were only formidable by their assemblage, the task grew easier to re-establish some serenity; yet the principal actor could not help distinguishing his superior absurdity before the act was closed. The Duke of Richmond acquainted me, on the 22nd, that Lord Rockingham was going to the King to thank his Majesty for his gracious offers, to ask pardon for having dealt with Grenville and the Bedfords, and to acquaint him that he could not undertake the Administration. One should rather have expected that when he confessed his error in applying to them, he would propose to accept without them. I said, not with much ardour, that I hoped they would now accept alone; and I asked what was to become of Conway? The Duke replied, _They had told him he must go on_. “Well, my lord,” said I, “but then you cannot continue to oppose.” “No,” replied the Duke, “if the King should offer us full power, he might be sure now that we could not make use of it against his friends; yet I do not know whether we should undertake. I think we must at least allow our friends to take on with the Court.” I commended this noble behaviour, and approved the admission of their friends; but their first thoughts had been too right to last.