Newcastle was equally disposed to a reconciliation.  He, too, had profited by his recent experience.  He had found that the Court and the aristocracy, though powerful, were not everything in the State.  A strong oligarchical connection, a great borough interest, ample patronage, and secret-service money, might, in quiet times, be all that a Minister needed; but it was unsafe to trust wholly to such support in time of war, of discontent, and of agitation.  The composition of the House of Commons was not wholly aristocratical; and, whatever he the composition of large deliberative assemblies, their spirit is always in some degree popular.  Where there are free debates, eloquence must have admirers, and reason must make converts.  Where there is a free press, the governors must live in constant awe of the opinions of the governed.

Thus these two men, so unlike in character, so lately mortal enemies, were necessary to each other.  Newcastle had fallen in November, for want of that public confidence which Pitt possessed, and of that parliamentary support which Pitt was better qualified than any man of his time to give.  Pitt had fallen in April, for want of that species of influence which Newcastle had passed his whole life in acquiring and hoarding.  Neither of them had power enough to support himself.  Each of them had power enough to overturn the other.  Their union would be irresistible.  Neither the King nor any party in the State would be able to stand against them.

Under these circumstances, Pitt was not disposed to proceed to extremities against his predecessors in office.  Something, however, was due to consistency; and something was necessary for the preservation of his popularity.  He did little; but that little he did in such manner as to produce great effect.  He came down to the House in all the pomp of gout, his legs swathed in flannels, his arm dangling in a sling.  He kept his seat through several fatiguing days, in spite of pain and langour.  He uttered a few sharp and vehement sentences; but during the greater part of the discussion, his language was unusually gentle.

When the inquiry had terminated without a vote either of approbation or of censure, the great obstacle to a coalition was removed.  Many obstacles, however, remained.  The King was still rejoicing in his deliverance from the proud and aspiring Minister who had been forced on him by the cry of the nation.  His Majesty’s indignation was excited to the highest point when it appeared that Newcastle, who had, during thirty years, been loaded with marks of royal favour, and who had bound himself, by a solemn promise, never to coalesce with Pitt, was meditating a new perfidy.  Of all the statesmen of that age, Fox had the largest share of royal favour.  A coalition between Fox and Newcastle was the arrangement which the King wished to bring about.  But the Duke was too cunning to fall into such a snare.  As a speaker in Parliament, Fox might perhaps be,