On the 17th of December the Parliament met. Grenville, apprized of the intention to repeal the Stamp Act, had laboured to form a strong Opposition, giving out that the Ministers were going to rescind all his acts, because his. The very first day of the session he proposed to address the Crown, to know how the Stamp Act had been enforced; and in amendment of the address, proposed to insert the word rebellious in speaking of the Colonies.[191] He professed great readiness to congratulate his Majesty on the birth of a young Prince. With regard to the Duke of Cumberland’s death, he would not, he said, flatter dead whom he had never flattered living. He was answered by Elliot, Lord George Sackville, and Norton, who, though dismissed, showed he had not imputed his disgrace to the Crown; and whatever the intentions of the Crown might be, it was thought proper that a majority should first be secured, lest the Cabinet should again be taken by storm. Charles Townshend spoke for the Ministry,[192] with great encomiums on Conway. Grenville finding so little countenance, withdrew his motion.
In the other House, Lord Suffolk moved for an assurance to the King that the Lords would support his Majesty and the Parliament against the Colonies. He was supported by the Duke of Bedford, the Lords Gower, Halifax, Sandwich, and Temple. The last declared there was no truth in the reports spread of differences between him and Mr. Pitt; they agreed on every point. The first assertion was false; the latter soon proved to be so. Lord Shelburne spoke for the Ministers, though his friend Colonel Barré had declined their offers.[193] But the concurrence of Shelburne and the retiring of Lord Camden spoke sufficiently, that they knew or suspected Mr. Pitt would take part for the repeal.[194] The Chancellor, Lord Pomfret, and the Duke of Grafton opposed the motion. Lord Mansfield, in a timid trimming speech, besought the Ministers to agree to the motion, and retired. The question was rejected by 80 to 24, though the new Opposition had flattered themselves that in the House of Lords lay their greatest strength. But they were sorely disappointed of Lord Bute’s support, which they expected on all the questions relative to America.
Two days after the former motion, the Duke of Bedford moved for all papers that had been sent to America relating to the Stamp Act, and since the passing of it. The Duke of Grafton quashed that proposal, by promising all the papers should be produced. Rigby moved the same question in the Commons, and was severely treated by Beckford, and the motion was rejected, the Duke of Grafton forgetting to acquaint the Ministers in that House that he had granted the demand to the Lords. This obliged the King to send the papers to the House of Commons likewise.
Grenville, the next day, by surprise, proposed that the House should adjourn, but to the 9th instead of the 14th as the Ministers intended, in consideration of the urgent affairs of America—as if five days could make any difference. But the motion was rejected by 77 to 35: so ductile and subservient to present power was that assembly! Alderman Baker called Grenville’s an insolent motion: being called to order, he was silent for some minutes; and then said, he had been trying to find another word—if the House could, he desired them to supply it. Then treating Grenville as the author of all the troubles in America, the latter threw the blame from himself on the Parliament.
Lord Temple, disheartened at so unpromising an outset of the session, had the confidence and meanness to hurry to Mr. Pitt at Bath; and now stooped to solicit the assistance of him whom he had so lately traversed, and whose offers he had so haughtily rejected. Mr. Pitt in his turn was inflexible.
On the 29th of December, died the King’s youngest brother, Prince Frederick, an amiable youth, and the most promising, it was thought, of the family. The hereditary disorder in his blood had fallen on his lungs and turned to a consumption.
I will close the account of this remarkable year with a few observations I made in France.
Louis the Fifteenth did not want sense, and had as much humanity as was consistent with insensibility and indolence. The first prevented him from suspecting evils that did not immediately fall under his eye; and the latter from inquiring what oppressions his people suffered. He was more shy than reserved, and all these qualities tended to make him the slave of habit. He hated new faces rather than loved old servants. Being free from ambition, having no appetite for glory of any kind, and impressed with sentiments of devotion, he preferred peace, and listened to any overtures of treaty, whether victorious or vanquished. To the Queen he had been for many years strictly constant; was always a civil husband, and, in her last illness, a tender one. To his children he was most affectionate.[195] To his mistresses profuse, but capable of harshness whenever he quitted them. Cardinal Fleury governed him with unbounded authority. Madame de Pompadour, by art, and at last by complaisance in procuring other women for him, engrossed him entirely, but with no hold on his affections, for her death made not the slightest impression on him.[196] The Duc de Choiseul having been placed by her, succeeded to the ascendant that habit gives, and thence excluded other favourites, rather than became one himself. The King’s life was regulated by the most mechanic sameness. An hour or two he could not deny to his Ministers: hunting took up the rest of daylight. Women amused his private hours: cards and a supper, with a select company, concluded the evening. All the flattery of that vain and obsequious nation, who love themselves in their kings, gave him no pleasure. It was a negative kind of nature that could neither be totally spoiled nor amended. But the true picture of him was an anecdote, that I learned from good authority. A sensible confident of Cardinal Fleury reproached him with not making the King apply to business. This was the answer of that wise Minister: “I have often endeavoured what you recommend; and one day went so far as to tell the King that there had been kings dethroned in France for their fainéantise.” It seemed to strike him deeply. He made no reply: but two days afterwards said to me, “I have been reflecting on what you told me of some of my predecessors being deposed—pray resolve me: when the nation deposed them, were they allotted large pensions?” “From that moment,” said the Cardinal, “I saw it was in vain to labour at making him a great King.”
The Queen was not only a pious but a good woman. Indifferent to the gallantries of her husband, and free from ambition, she lived well with him, his mistresses, and ministers. Fond of talking and universally obliging, the nation thought her void of any particular attachment; yet she showed an unalterable friendship to the Duchess de Luynes: and her affection to her father, King Stanislas, and the loss of her son the Dauphin undoubtedly hastened her death. Though she could not prevent the expulsion of the Jesuits, the King’s esteem for her mitigated their fall. It was to the honour of both that, though the daughters of Stanislas and Augustus, the Queen and the Dauphiness lived in uninterrupted harmony.
The Dauphin, who died while I was in France, was totally unknown till his death. His great caution of not giving jealousy to his father, and his respectable fear of not alarming the bigotry of his mother and wife, had made him conceal both his good sense and the freedom of his sentiments with such care, that the former was not suspected; and the latter was so unknown, that the nation, now running with their usual vehemence into any new opinion, and, consequently, growing Freethinkers, believed and hated him as an enthusiast. Yet he had a good understanding, had carefully, though secretly, cultivated it, and was a modern philosopher in the largest sense of that term. During his illness, which continued many weeks, he seemed neither to regret his youth nor hopes; was patient, complaisant, and indulgent; and a few days before his death gave proof of his good sense and good nature. A man of quality that attended him had the brutal absurdity to solicit him to ask some favour, on his behalf, of the King, “who,” said the person, “can refuse your Royal Highness nothing in your present condition.” The Dauphin laughed at the indelicacy, but would not divulge the name of the man. To please his family the Prince went through all the ceremonies of the Church, but shewed to his attendants, after they were over, how vain and ridiculous he thought them. Many expressions he dropped in his last hours that spoke the freedom of his opinions; and to the Duc de Nivernois he said, he was glad to leave behind him such a book as Mr. Hume’s Essays.[197]