He prorogued parliament a few days before this incident. For some months his mind had been tried severely. His power, which he loved so well and conscientiously believed himself bound to maintain, was at stake in the political conflict. His letters to North prove how eagerly and anxiously he watched the progress of that conflict in which he was really, though not ostensibly, engaged in person. If Chatham and the city had succeeded in forcing him to dissolve parliament on the ground that its authority was vitiated by the nomination of Luttrell as a member for Middlesex, he would have suffered a defeat which even his dogged perseverance would have failed to retrieve. Rather than that, "I will," he said to Conway, "have recourse to this," and he laid his hand on his sword. The opposition had a good cause, but, as we have seen, they played their part badly. Among the reasons of their failure a conspicuous place must be assigned to the displeasure excited by the attacks made on the king by the more violent section, the vile letter of Junius, the rudeness of the city, and the like. The constant references which were made to some secret influence, presumably that of his mother or Bute, which was supposed to guide him were as foolish as they were rude, for George's policy was his own. His anxieties and troubles were almost more than he could bear. "At the [royal] gardening (_sic_) party" on June 2 he burst into tears and talked somewhat strangely; he had, it was believed, "for some time been much agitated and lived (as usual when he is so) on vegetables and fruit".[87] The symptoms happily passed away. He had, indeed, cause for cheerfulness, for the ministry was in a far stronger position at the end of the session than when North took office. [Sidenote: _SPAIN AND THE FALKLAND ISLANDS._]