fe, though courteous in
his manners and kind to those who shared his revels. As dissipated
habits obtained the mastery over him, and the unbounded flattery of his
boon companions stultified his conscience, he became heartless and even
brutal. He was proud and overbearing; was fond of pomp and ceremony, and
ultra-conservative in all his political views. He was outrageously
extravagant and reckless in his expenditures, and then appealed to
Parliament to pay his debts. He liked to visit his favorites, and
received visits from them in return so long as his physical forces
remained; but when these were hopelessly undermined by self-indulgence,
he buried himself in his palaces, and rarely appeared in public. Indeed,
in his latter days he shunned the sight of the people altogether. His
character appears better in his letters than in the verdicts of
historians. Those written to his Chancellor Eldon, to the Duke of
Wellington, to Lord Liverpool, to Sir William Knighton, keeper of the
privy purse, and others, show great cordiality, frankness, and the utter
absence of the stiffness and pride incident to his high rank. They
abound in expressions of kindness and even affection, whether sincere or
not. They are all well written, and would do credit, from a literary
point of view, to any private person. His talents and conversation, his
wit and repartee, and his felicitous description of character are
undeniable. He is said to have had the talent of telling stories to
perfection. His powers of mimicry were remarkable, and he was fond of
singing songs at his banquets. Had he been simply a private person or an
ordinary nobleman, he would have been far from contemptible.

The latter days of George IV. were sad, and for a king he was left
comparatively alone. He had neither wife nor children to lean upon and
to cheer him,--only mercenary courtiers and physicians. His tastes were
refined, his manners affable, and his conversation interesting. He was
intelligent, sagacious, and well-informed; yet no English monarch was
ever more cordially despised. The governing principle of his life was a
love of ease and pleasure, which made him negligent of his duties; and
there never yet lived a man, however exalted his sphere, who had not
imperative duties to perform, without the performance of which his life
was a failure and a reproach. So it was with this unhappy king, who died
like Louis XV. without any one to mourn his departure; and a new king
re