a still more severe censure on two generations of Granvilles, on two generations of Hydes, and on two generations of Finches.  At last some ingenious Tory thought of a device by which it might be possible to strike the enemy without wounding friends.  The grants of Charles and James had been made in time of peace; and William’s grant to Somers had been made in time of war.  Malice eagerly caught at this childish distinction.  It was moved that any minister who had been concerned in passing a grant for his own benefit while the nation was under the heavy taxes of the late war had violated his trust; as if the expenditure which is necessary to secure to the country a good administration of justice ought to be suspended by war; or as if it were not criminal in a government to squander the resources of the state in time of peace.  The motion was made by James Brydges, eldest son of the Lord Chandos, the James Brydges who afterwards became Duke of Chandos, who raised a gigantic fortune out of war taxes, to squander it in comfortless and tasteless ostentation, and who is still remembered as the Timon of Pope’s keen and brilliant satire.  It was remarked as extraordinary that Brydges brought forward and defended his motion merely as the assertion of an abstract truth, and avoided all mention of the Chancellor.  It seemed still more extraordinary that Howe, whose whole eloquence consisted in cutting personalities, named nobody on this occasion, and contented himself with declaiming in general terms against corruption and profusion.  It was plain that the enemies of Somers were at once urged forward by hatred and kept back by fear.  They knew that they could not carry a resolution directly condemning him.  They, therefore, cunningly brought forward a mere speculative proposition which many members might be willing to affirm without scrutinising it severely.  But, as soon as the major premise had been admitted, the minor would be without difficulty established; and it would be impossible to avoid coming to the conclusion that Somers had violated his trust.  Such tactics, however, have very seldom succeeded in English parliaments; for a little good sense and a little straightforwardness are quite sufficient to confound them.  A sturdy Whig member, Sir Rowland Gwyn, disconcerted the whole scheme of operations.  “Why this reserve?” he said, “Everybody knows your meaning.  Everybody sees that you have not the courage to name the great man whom you are trying to destroy.”  “That is false,” cried Brydges; and a stormy altercation followed.  It soon appeared that innocence would again triumph.  The two parties seemed to have exchanged characters for one day.  The friends of the government, who in the Parliament were generally humble and timorous, took a high tone, and spoke as it becomes men to speak who are defending persecuted genius and virtue.  The malecontents, generally so insolent and turbulent, seemed to be completely cowed.  They abased themselves so low as to protest, what no human being could believe,