had
absolutely no conscience and no law of life, and when he talked most
vehemently and loudly about his coronation oath those who were accustomed
to deal with him knew quite well from experience that when he had
exhausted his humor by a {91} sufficient outpouring of eloquence he would
be sure to take the advice given to him and to trouble himself no more
about the question of conscience. In this way, of course, George the
Fourth did less harm to the State than his father had done, but when we
come to compare the moral character of the two men we must admit that the
obstinacy of the father deserves the recognition which we cannot give to
the spasmodic and ephemeral self-assertion of the son. Nobody for a
moment believed that George the Fourth had the slightest idea of actually
abdicating his royal position in England and betaking himself to
perpetual boredom in Hanover rather than consent to the passing of
Catholic Emancipation. But at times of trial those who were around
George the Third had good reason to believe that if he were driven to
choose between his throne and his conscience he would have come down
deliberately from the throne and followed his conscience whithersoever it
might lead him. With George the Fourth the only question was how long he
would stand the wear and tear of having to defend his position, and how
soon he would begin to feel that the inconvenience of giving in would be
less troublesome than the inconvenience of holding out. Even the most
courtly historian would be hard put to it if he were set to find out any
passage in the whole of George the Fourth's matured life which compels
admiration.

George seems to have been an absolutely self-centred man. He was to all
appearance constitutionally unable to import into his mind any
considerations but those which affected his own personal comforts and
likings and indulgences and occasional love of display. There were times
when he evidently thought he was acting a great part, and when it filled
him with joy to believe that he was thus making himself an object of
public admiration; but no higher consideration, no thought beyond him and
the applause he believed himself to be winning, appear to have entered
his mind even at such moments of exaltation. We read in history of
princes who believed themselves qualified by nature to be great actors or
great singers, and who made absurd exhibitions of themselves accordingly
and accepted {92} the courtly a