But his resolution was taken. He thanked his majesty, not with the common-place thanks of courtiers, but with his whole heart and soul he thanked his majesty for this gracious condescension--this testimony of approbation--these proofs of sensibility to his attachment, which paid--overpaid him, in a moment, for the labours of a life. The recollection of them would be the glory, the solace of his age--could never leave his memory while life lasted--would, he thought, be present to him, if he should retain his senses, in his dying moment. But he was, in the midst of this strong feeling, firm to the resolution his reason had taken. He humbly represented, that he had waited for a favourable time when the affairs of the country were in a prosperous train, when there were few difficulties to embarrass those whom his majesty might name to succeed to his place at the head of administration: there were many who were ambitious of that station--zeal, talents, and the activity of youth were at his majesty’s command. For himself, he found it necessary for his health and happiness to retire from public business; and to resign the arduous trust with which he had been honoured. “My lord, if I must accept of your resignation, I must--but I do it with regret. Is there any thing your lordship wishes--any thing you will name for yourself or your friends, that I can do, to show my sense of your services and merit?” “For myself, your majesty’s bounty has left me nothing to wish.” “For your friends, then, my lord?--Let me have the satisfaction of obliging you through them.” Nothing could be more gracious or more gratifying than the whole of this parting audience. It was Lord Oldborough’s last audience. The news of his resignation, quickly whispered at court, was not that day publicly known or announced. The next morning his lordship’s door was crowded beyond example in the memory of ministers. Mr. Temple, by his lordship’s order, announced as soon as possible the minister’s having resigned. All were in astonishment--many in sorrow: some few--a very few of the most insignificant of the crowd, persons incapable of generous sympathy, who thought they could follow their own paltry interests unnoticed--left the room, without paying their farewell respects to this great minister--minister now no more. The moment he appeared, there was sudden silence. All eyes were fixed upon him, every one pressing to get into the circle. “Gentlemen, thank you for these marks of attention--of regard. Mr. Temple has told you--you know, my friends, that I am a man without power.” “We know,” answered a distinguished gentleman, “that you are Lord Oldborough. With or without power, the same in the eyes of your friends, and of the British nation.”