phaeton, flashing past them, and the crimson face of the young prince bending over the horses. There is something absurd in representing George as, even before he came of age, a hardened and cynical profligate, an Elagabalus in trousers. His blood flowed fast enough through his veins. All his escapades were those of a healthful young man of the time. Need we blame him if he sought, every day, to live faster and more fully ?
In a brief essay like this, I cannot attempt to write, as I hope one day to do, in any detail a history of George’s career, during the time when he was successively Prince of Wales and Regent and King. Merely is it my wish at present to examine some of the principal accusations that have been brought against him, and to point out in what ways he has been harshly and hastily judged. Perhaps the greatest indignation against him was, and is to this day, felt by reason of his treatment of his two wives, Mrs. Fitzherbert and Queen Caroline. There are some scandals that never grow old, and I think the story of George’s married life is one of them. I can feel it. It has vitality. Often have I wondered whether the blood with which the young Prince’s shirt was covered when Mrs. Fitzherbert first was induced to visit him at Carlton House, was merely red paint, or if, in a frenzy of love, he had truly gashed himself with a razor. Certain it is that his passion for the virtuous and obdurate lady was a very real one. Lord Holland describes how the Prince used to visit Mrs. Fox, and there indulge in “the most extravagant expressions and actions—rolling on the floor, striking his fore- head, tearing his hair, falling into hysterics, and swearing that he would abandon the country, forego the crown, &c.” He was indeed still a child, for royalties, not being ever brought inco contact with the realities of life, remain young longer than most people. He had a truly royal lack of self-control, andwas
