to have exchanged the last embrace with Russell on the scaffold in Lincoln’s Inn Fields.  They carried into politics the same high principles of virtue which regulated their private dealings, nor would they stoop to promote even the noblest and most salutary ends by means which honour and probity condemn.  Such men were Lord John Cavendish, Sir George Savile, and others whom we hold in honour as the second founders of the Whig party, as the restorers of its pristine health and energy after half a century of degeneracy.

The chief of this respectable band was the Marquess of Rockingham, a man of splendid fortune, excellent sense, and stainless character.  He was indeed nervous to such a degree that, to the very close of his life, he never rose without great reluctance and embarrassment to address the House of Lords.

But, though not a great orator, he had in a high degree some of the qualities of a statesman.  He chose his friends well; and he had, in an extraordinary degree, the art of attaching them to him by ties of the most honourable kind.  The cheerful fidelity with which they adhered to him through many years of almost hopeless opposition was less admirable than the disinterestedness and delicacy which they showed when he rose to power.

We are inclined to think that the use and the abuse of party cannot be better illustrated than by a parallel between two powerful connections of that time, the Rockinghams and the Bedfords.  The Rockingham party was, in our view, exactly what a party should be.  It consisted of men bound together by common opinions, by common public objects, by mutual esteem.  That they desired to obtain, by honest and constitutional means, the direction of affairs, they openly avowed.  But, though often invited to accept the honours and emoluments of office, they steadily refused to do so on any conditions inconsistent with their principles.  The Bedford party, as a party, had, as far as we can discover, no principle whatever.  Rigby and Sandwich wanted public money, and thought that they should fetch a higher price jointly than singly.  They therefore acted in concert, and prevailed on a much more important and a much better man than themselves to act with them.

It was to Rockingham that the Duke of Cumberland now had recourse.  The Marquess consented to take the Treasury.  Newcastle, so long the recognised chief of the Whigs, could not well be excluded from the ministry.  He was appointed Keeper of the Privy Seal.  A very honest clear-headed country gentleman, of the name of Dowdeswell, became Chancellor of the Exchequer.  General Conway, who had served under the Duke of Cumberland, and was strongly attached to his royal highness, was made Secretary of State, with the lead in the House of Commons.  A great Whig nobleman, in the prime of manhood, from whom much was at that time expected, Augustus, Duke of Grafton, was the other Secretary.

The oldest man living could remember no Government so weak in oratorical talents and in official experience.  The general opinion was, that the ministers might hold office during the recess, but that the first day of debate in Parliament would be the last day of their power.  Charles Townshend was asked what he thought of the new administration.  “It is,” said be, “mere lutestring; pretty summer wear.  It will never do for the winter.”