he Jesuitical cabal. No man had taken a more active,
a more hazardous, or a more useful part in effecting the Revolution. It
seemed, therefore, that no man had fairer pretensions to be put at the
head of the naval administration. Yet no man could be more unfit for
such a post. His morals had always been loose, so loose indeed that the
firmness with which in the late reign he had adhered to his religion
had excited much surprise. His glorious disgrace indeed seemed to have
produced a salutary effect on his character. In poverty and exile he
rose from a voluptuary into a hero. But, as soon as prosperity returned,
the hero sank again into a voluptuary; and the lapse was deep and
hopeless. The nerves of his mind, which had been during a short time
braced to a firm tone, were now so much relaxed by vice that he was
utterly incapable of selfdenial or of strenuous exertion. The vulgar
courage of a foremast man he still retained. But both as Admiral and
as First Lord of the Admiralty he was utterly inefficient. Month after
month the fleet which should have been the terror of the seas lay in
harbour while he was diverting himself in London. The sailors, punning
upon his new title, gave him the name of Lord Tarry-in-town. When he
came on shipboard he was accompanied by a bevy of courtesans. There was
scarcely an hour of the day or of the night when he was not under the
influence of claret. Being insatiable of pleasure, he necessarily became
insatiable of wealth. Yet he loved flattery almost as much as either
wealth or pleasure. He had long been in the habit of exacting the most
abject homage from those who were under his command. His flagship was a
little Versailles. He expected his captains to attend him to his cabin
when he went to bed, and to assemble every morning at his levee. He even
suffered them to dress him. One of them combed his flowing wig; another
stood ready with the embroidered coat. Under such a chief there could be
no discipline. His tars passed their time in rioting among the rabble of
Portsmouth. Those officers who won his favour by servility and adulation
easily obtained leave of absence, and spent weeks in London, revelling
in taverns, scouring the streets, or making love to the masked ladies
in the pit of the theatre. The victuallers soon found out with whom they
had to deal, and sent down to the fleet casks of meat which dogs would
not touch, and barrels of beer which smelt worse than bilge water.
Meanwhile t