that singularly feeble administration which met with universal
approval. There could be no question of the intelligence, high
principle, or public services of the great admiral. Mr Addington came
into power under circumstances which would have tried the talents of a
man of first-rate ability. The war had exhausted the patience, though
not the power, of the nation. All our allies had failed. The severity
of the taxes was doubly felt, when the war had necessarily turned into
a blockade on the Continent. We had thus all the exhaustion of
hostilities without the excitement of triumph; and, to increase public
anxieties, the failure of the harvest threatened a comparative famine.
Wheat, which on an average of the preceding ten years had been 54s. a
quarter, was now at 110s., then rose to 139s., and even reached as
high as 180s. At one period the quartern loaf had risen to 1s. 10-1/2d.
The popular cry now arose for peace. France, which with all her
victories had been taught the precariousness of war, by the loss of
Egypt and the capture of her army, was now also eager for peace.
England had but two allies, Portugal and Turkey. At length the peace
was made, and Lord St Vincent's attention was then drawn to an object
which he had long in view, the reformation of the dockyards. This was
indeed the Augean stable, and unexampled clamour arose from the
multitude who had indolently fattened for years on the easy plunder of
the public stores. However, the reform went on: perquisites were
abolished, privileges taken away; and, rough as the operation was,
nothing could be more salutary than its effect. The acuteness of the
gallant old man at the head of the Admiralty could not be evaded, his
vigour could not be defied, and his public spirit gave him an
influence with the country, which enabled him to outlive faction and
put down calumny. Yet this was evidently the most painful, and, to a
certain extent, the most unsuccessful portion of his long career.
Nominally a Whig, but practically a Tory--for his loyalty was