admired her bust; and it is, therefore, by royal command, tolerably exposed.  Her fair hair is upraised in full short curls over her brow:  her dress is rich, and distinguished in that respect from that of the Countess of Suffolk.—­’Her good Howard’—­as she was wont to call her, when, before her elevation to the peerage, she was lady of the bedchamber to Caroline, had, when in that capacity, been often subjected to servile offices, which the queen, though apologizing in the sweetest manner, delighted to make her perform.  ‘My good Howard’ having one day placed a handkerchief on the back of her royal mistress, the king, who half worshipped his intellectual wife, pulled it off in a passion, saying, ‘Because you have an ugly neck yourself, you hide the queen’s!’ All, however, that evening was smooth as ice, and perhaps as cold also.  The company are quickly dismissed, and the king, who has scarcely spoken to the queen, retires to his closet, where he is attended by the subservient Caroline, and by two other persons.

Sir Robert Walpole, prime minister, has accompanied the king in his carriage, from the very entrance of London, where the famous statesman met him.  He is now the privileged companion of their majesties, in their seclusion for the rest of the evening.  His cheerful face, in its full evening disguise of wig and tie, his invariable good humour, his frank manners, his wonderful sense, his views, more practical than elevated, sufficiently account for the influence which this celebrated minister obtained over Queen Caroline, and the readiness of King George to submit to the tie.  But Sir Robert’s great source of ascendancy was his temper.  Never was there in the annals of our country a minister so free of access:  so obliging in giving, so unoffending when he refused; so indulgent and kind to those dependent on him; so generous, so faithful to his friends, so forgiving to his foes.  This was his character under one phase:  even his adherents sometimes blamed his easiness of temper; the impossibility in his nature to cherish the remembrance of a wrong, or even to be roused by an insult.  But, whilst such were the amiable traits of his character, history has its lists of accusations against him for corruption of the most shameless description.  The end of this veteran statesman’s career is well known.  The fraudulent contracts which he gave, the peculation and profusion of the secret service money, his undue influence at elections, brought around his later life a storm, from which he retreated into the Upper House, when created Earl of Orford.  It was before this timely retirement from office that he burst forth in these words:  ’I oppose nothing; give in to everything; am said to do everything; and to answer for everything; and yet, God knows, I dare not do what I think is right.’