moderation. The conviction that the duke's government would
only cease with the termination of his public career was so
general, that the moment he was installed in office, the whigs
smiled on him; political conciliation became the slang of the
day, and the fusion of parties the babble of clubs and the
tattle of boudoirs.

How comes it then that so great a man, in so great a position,
should have so signally failed? Should have broken up his
government, wrecked his party, and so completely annihilated
his political position, that, even with his historical
reputation to sustain him, he can since only re-appear in the
councils of his sovereign in a subordinate, not to say
equivocal, character?

With all those great qualities which will secure him a place
in our history not perhaps inferior even to Marlborough, the
Duke of Wellington has one deficiency which has been the
stumbling-block of his civil career. Bishop Burnet, in
speculating on the extraordinary influence of Lord
Shaftesbury, and accounting how a statesman, so inconsistent
in his conduct and so false to his confederates, should have
so powerfully controlled his country, observes, "HIS STRENGTH
LAY IN HIS KNOWLEDGE OF ENGLAND."


Now that is exactly the kind of knowledge which the Duke of
Wellington never possessed.

When the king, finding that in Lord Goderich he had a minister