not, could be. He was by far the handsomest of the Hanoverians, and had
the least amount of their sheepish look. He possessed all their taste
and capacity, for gallantry, with apparently none of the German
coarseness which certain other Princes of Wales exhibited in their
amorous address. _His_ coarseness was of a more sensual, but less
imperious kind. He _had_ his redeeming points, which few of his
ancestors had, and his liberal hand and warm heart won him friends,
where his conduct could win him little else than contempt. Sheridan was
introduced to him by Fox, and Mrs. Sheridan by the Duchess of
Devonshire. The prince had that which always takes with Englishmen--a
readiness of conviviality, and a recklessness of character. He was ready
to chat, drink, and bet with Sheridan, or any new comer equally well
recommended, and an introduction to young George was always followed by
an easy recognition. With all this he managed to keep up a certain
amount of royal dignity under the most trying circumstances, but he had
none of that easy grace which made Charles II. beloved by his
associates. When the George had gone too far, he had no resource but to
cut the individual with whom he had hobbed and nobbed, and he was as
ungrateful in his enmities as he was ready with his friendship. Brummell
had taught him to dress, and Sheridan had given him wiser counsels: he
quarrelled with both for trifles, which, if he had had real dignity,
would never have occurred, and if he had had real friendship, would
easily have been overlooked.

Sheridan's breach with the prince was honourable to him. He could not
wholly approve of the conduct of that personage and his ministers, and
he told him openly that his life was at his service, but his character
was the property of the country. The prince replied that Sheridan 'might
impeach his ministers on the morrow--that would not impair their
friendship;' yet turned on his heel, and was never his friend again.