The wretched reign of George IV. commenced on the 30th January, 1820. Mr. Buckle speaks of "the incredible baseness of that ignoble voluptuary who succeeded George III. on the throne." The coronation was delayed for a considerable period, partly in consequence of the hostility between the King and his unfortunate wife, and partly because of the cost. We find the Right Hon. Thomas Grenville writing of the coronation: "I think it probable that it will be put off, because the King will not like it unless it be expensive, and Vansittart knows not how to pay for it if it is." Generous monarchs, these Brunswicks! Thousands at that moment were in a state of starvation in England, Scotland, and Ireland. Lord Cassilis writes: "There seems nothing but chaos and desolation whatever way a man may turn himself.... the lower orders existing only from the circumstance of the produce of the land being unmarketable.... The weavers are certainly employed, but they cannot earn more than from six to eight shillings a week. Such is our state." When the coronation did ultimately take place, some strange expenses crept in. Diamonds were charged for to the extent, it is said, of £80,000, which found their way to one of the King's favored mistresses. The crown itself was made up with hired jewels, which were kept for twenty-one months after the coronation, and for the hire of which alone the country paid £11,000. The charge for coronation robes was £24,000. It was in consequence of Sir Benjamin Bloom-field having to account for some of the diamonds purchased that he resigned his position in the King's household. Rather than be suspected of dishonesty, he preferred revealing that they had reached the hands of Lady Conyngham. Sir George Naylor, in an infamously servile publication, for which book alone the country paid £3,000, describes "the superb habiliments which his Majesty, not less regardful of the prosperity of the people than of the splendor of his throne, was pleased to enjoin should be worn upon the occasion of his Majesty's sacred coronation." Sir William Knighton declares that on the news of the King's death reaching the Prince Regent, "the fatal tidings were received with a burst of grief that was very affecting." The King had been mad and blind and deaf for ten years, and the Queen, years before, had complained of the Prince's conduct as unfilial, if not inhuman. With the Prince Regent's known character, this sudden burst of grief is really "very affecting."