had retired from the Cabinet Council. “Yes,” cried he, correcting himself, and turning towards Lord Barrington, “I know who has sometimes commanded” (alluding to the slaughter in St. George’s Fields). The contemptible description of Wilkes was in consequence of Lord Shelburne’s plan of annihilating that demagogue, against whom Parson Horne was now waging open, though anonymous, war in the newspapers. The Court had soon afterwards the satisfaction of seeing them worry one another in print by name. Barré’s attack called up Lord Barrington, who uttered the most improper, the most impertinent, and most offensive speech, _in every light_, that could be conceived. He did not know, he declared, an officer in England fit to be commander-in-chief. Could any man name one to him? where was any such man? if there was, if anybody would point him out, he would recommend him to his Majesty. “It was said,” continued he, “in Queen Anne’s reign, that Dr. Ratcliffe and an old woman could cure an ague; so, the Adjutant-General (General Harvey) and he (Barrington) could make the best commander-in-chief.” Disgraceful as such a declaration was, if true,--indiscreet to make to the enemy, a war approaching,--indecent to the Duke of Gloucester, who was sitting in the gallery,--to General Conway, on whom all eyes turned, as on one on whom the choice would of course fall,--and insolent as it was to all our other Generals; yet had not absurdity dictated this public affront to the army--an affront offered by the Secretary at War. Knowingly, nay artfully, had the dirty little creature exposed himself to so much resentment. He knew, in short, that the King was jealous of the command of the army; that he trusted to its attachment against any violence from his subjects; that he would not confide even in his devoted brother, nor in the integrity (because founded on constitutional principles) of General Conway. It was an officious declaration that commander-in-chief there was to be none; it was an indirect method of saving the King the pain, or rather the blush, of refusing the command to his brother; and the King’s ensuing silence, and his continued favour to Barrington, left no doubt but the zeal was kindly accepted.[115] The offence grated the chief officers, men of renowned bravery and service, such particularly as the Generals Amherst and Monckton. Lord Waldegrave and General Howard took up the affront warmly without doors, and happy was the officious tool to escape without a personal quarrel. It was not, perhaps, the least part of his elaborate indecency, that, had a war ensued, the soldiery might have been impressed with contemptuous ideas of their leaders; but servility cares not how much it sacrifices national interest when pursuing its own. General Harvey, the King’s real confidant in military business, pretended to lament that Lord Barrington had pointed him out as responsible for the army--a modesty calculated to enforce the impression.