The peasant's toe did gall the courtier's gibe.

The barber from Eton and his seven daughters elbowed the dean who
rented his back parlour, when he was in the sixth form,--and who now
was crowding to the front rank for a smile of majesty, having heard
that the Bishop of Chester was seriously indisposed. The prime minister
waited quietly amidst the crush, till the royal party should descend
from their dining-room,--smiling at, if not unheeding, the anxious
inquiries of the stock-broker from Change Alley, who wondered if Mr.
Pitt would carry a gold stick before the king. The only time I saw that
minister was under these circumstances. It was the year before he died.
He stood firmly and proudly amongst the crowd for some half-hour till
the king should arrive. The monarch, of course, immediately recognised
him; the contrast in the demeanour of the two personages made a
remarkable impression upon me--and that of the minister first showed me
an example of the perfect self-possession of men of great abilities.

After a year or two of this soil of excitement the king became blind;
and painful was the exhibition of the led horse of the good old man, as
he took his accustomed ride. In a few more years a still heavier
calamity fell upon him--and from that time Windsor Castle became,
comparatively, a mournful place. The terrace was shut up--the ancient
pathway through the park, and under the castle walls, was diverted--and
a somewhat Asiatic state and stillness seemed to usurp the reign of the
old free and familiar intercourse of the sovereign with the people.



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