Thus ended the year 1769, leaving a prospect of very gloomy scenes at hand. In the last reign the House of Lords had acquired a great ascendant in the legislature; at the beginning of the present, the Crown had aimed at, and well nigh attained, an increase of the prerogative. The people were now grown formidable both to the King and Lords, and openly attacked the House of Commons, their best real support. Against all the branches of the legislature the contest was certainly unequal, but the vibrations of the balance proved how nicely the constitution was poised. Yet so tremulous an equilibrium made it the more to be feared that one or other of the scales might preponderate. The union of all three against the people, by the Lords and Commons being sold to the King, was still more formidable. I shall conclude the history of the year with what relates to foreign politics. The tide was turned in favour of the Russians. The victorious Grand Vizir, who had checked their success, was removed by an intrigue of the Seraglio; and his successor rashly venturing to give battle, was defeated with great loss: Choczim was taken, and Prince Gallitzin, who had been recalled on a notion of having failed, destroyed the Turkish army before he received the news of his disgrace. France and Spain were tempted to molest the Russian fleet as it should pass through the Mediterranean; and, as it was received and favoured in our ports, it was not improbable but the three powers would be drawn into the vortex of the war. We had actually subsisting with France a quarrel that disposition to a rupture would easily have blown up into very serious discussion. A French ship had come into one of our ports, but refused to lower her pendant. On being fired at, the French captain continued to refuse striking the pendant, but declared himself our prize. France presented a strong memorial, and threatened reprisals. A parallel case had happened in Sir Robert Walpole’s time, who had yielded the point by breaking the captain for one day, and promoting him the next. At this time a vigorous answer was returned, and in harsher terms than Mr. Conway thought necessary, who asking Lord Weymouth at Council if he had looked into the former case, he replied, No--and sent away the memorial without examining it. Lord Weymouth, as will appear hereafter, was not apt to avoid hostile measures.[1] Two thousand sailors were ordered to be raised: but so inattentive were the Ministers to any system, and so impossible was it for naval commanders, or West Indian governors to obtain the shortest moments of audience, that this fervour of flippant resolution seemed a mere tribute to national clamour, not the consequence of any methodical determination.