A change of Ministry now came to flatter his hopes of a return to England. Grenville's interminable harangues in the Royal closet had bored his master into giving him his congé, and Rockingham had taken his place. Wilkes, not unnaturally, expected a free pardon, and something more, when his friends got into power, but he soon learned that an inconvenient friend will only receive his reward when he becomes troublesome. To do that he must brave the terrors of the law and return to England. Amongst other modest proposals for his advancement, he had suggested that he should be made Ambassador at Constantinople, and receive a pension of 1,000l. a year. That post was hardly as important then as now, but it is not surprising that the King and Ministry failed to receive the suggestion with enthusiasm. On the accession of the Duke of Grafton to the leadership, Wilkes thought that he might return with safety, for his Grace had been one of his boon companions, though the experience he had enjoyed in the case of Sandwich might have made him more cautious. The character of Grafton has been drawn for all time

by Junius. 'Sullen and severe without religion, profligate without gaiety, you live like Charles II. without being an amiable companion, and for aught I know, may die as his father did without the reputation of a martyr.' For a long time no effort was made to bring Wilkes before the Courts, for, it must be remembered, he was still an outlaw; nor was any attempt made to conciliate him. The conduct of Grafton exhibited neither generosity nor firmness. Wilkes therefore boldly offered himself as a candidate for the City, and, on his rejection, for the county of Middlesex. The scenes of that election beggar description, and are too well known to need it. One incident is too amusing to escape repetition. The Austrian Ambassador, the Graf von Seilern, most solemn and haughty of the representatives of a solemn Court, was dragged from his carriage by the mob, and '45' chalked on the soles of his boots. His constantly reiterated demands for reparation, which it was impossible to satisfy, only made him the more ridiculous. Wilkes and Liberty' was the one topic of the day in letters and conversation. His head was even adopted as a sign for public-houses, and he himself told the story of the old lady who said, 'There he swings, everywhere but where he ought to be.' He easily headed the poll, and received a complimentary letter from Diderot, who wrote, 'The august Senate of Great Britain will still count a Wilkes among its most illustrious members.' That

was not, however, the view of that illustrious body, and the lawyers, by the mysterious obligations of a capias utlagatum, enforced his presence before Lord Mansfield, who sentenced him to a heavy fine and twenty-two months' imprisonment on the old charge of publishing a libel, but reversed his outlawry on a technical point. His imprisonment was a long triumph. Hampers of game and wine arrived at all hours from all quarters; money poured in from sympathising patriots. Among other effusions of the time, a poem by Lady Temple deserves notice. If her lord was indeed 'Junius,' he can hardly have revised it. It ran thus:

THE JEWEL IN THE TOWER.

If what the Tower of London holds
Is valued more than all its power;
Then, counting what it now enfolds,
How wondrous rich is London Tower.

I think not of the armoury,

Nor of the guns and lions' roar ;

Nor yet the valued library,

But of the Jewel in the Tower.

&c., &c.

The day shall come to make amends,

Of Liberty the exulting power,

When o'er his foes, and 'midst his friends

Shall shine the Jewel of the Tower.

Her ladyship's predictions were better than her verses, for from this time onward Wilkes won victory after victory, and the King and the Ministry floundered deeper and deeper in their efforts to suppress him. The King had urged his expulsion from the House immediately after his election, but ten months elapsed before he was actually expelled. The ostensible ground was a comment made by Wilkes on an official letter of Lord Weymouth, advising the use of soldiers by the magistrates to quell one of the riots arising out of his arrest. The soldiers had killed one man and wounded several, and the special thanks of the King had been given to them afterwards. On this Wilkes wrote that this letter (of Lord Weymouth's) showed 'how long a hellish project can be brooded over by some infernal spirits without one moment's remorse.' The offence, if any, was against a Peer and not the Commons. Nevertheless, on February 3rd, 1769, he was expelled for a scandalous and malicious libel.' Now began that long struggle between the House and the constituencies, in which the former was completely worsted, Wilkes was returned four times,

thrice against a Government candidate, who was at last seated by resolution of the House. This gentleman was a Colonel Luttrell, whose sister, Mrs. Horton, captivated and married the Duke of Cumberland. From these two, it is said, the Prince Regent received the education in the ways of the world, of which he made such good use. Thus does time work its revenges! The scandalous contempt shown by the House for the rights of the electors soon enlisted on behalf of Wilkes every advocate for freedom in the country. No man, whatever his demerits, can help becoming a hero when his enemies persist in thrusting the rôle upon him. Chatham thundered on his behalf, Burke and Rockingham came to visit him in prison, and money poured in upon him; a society was formed to pay his debts, and when he emerged from prison in April 1770, his obligations had all been discharged, to the amount of 20,000l. His connection with the City dates from this period, which gave him an invaluable handle for use against the King and Ministry, and proved of the greatest service to him throughout the remainder of his life. He became an Alderman, and shortly afterwards Sheriff. While serving the latter office he did not disdain to pander to popular prejudice to such an extent as not to permit any French wines to appear at his table.

It was his singular good fortune to be able to strike another blow for freedom while sitting as a magistrate in the City. He released the printers charged with publishing the debates in the House of Commons, and committed the messenger of the House to gaol. After a futile struggle the House had to give way, and the reporting of debates has been ever since an uncontested privilege of the Press. His greatest triumph was to come. After a desperate struggle with the nominees of the Court, he was elected Lord Mayor, and in 1784, for the fifth time, M.P. for Middlesex. No opposition was offered now to his taking his seat. Thus after ten years' struggle against all the influence of the Court and Ministry he had obtained a seat in Parliament, the Chief Magistracy of London, and had established for ever three of the most cherished rights of the subject-freedom from arbitrary arrest, freedom of the Press, and the right of the electors to choose their representatives without dictation from any authority. The day was yet to come when he was to oblige the House to direct that all the records of the resolutions passed against him should be expunged by their Clerk before his eyes; then his victory was complete, for the House had already censured General Warrants.' When, in after years, he held the office of Chamberlain

of the City, and in that capacity welcomed Nelson and other illustrious freemen, he had become a champion of law and order, and even received the thanks of the Privy Council for his exertions during the Gordon Riots.

It is not necessary to assume that he was a vile impostor because, after he had won all he fought for, he did not continue an incendiary; nor to hold with Lord John Russell that he was without opinions or principles, religious or political, and his impudence far exceeded his talents'; nor with Macaulay, that 'his speaking, though pert, was feeble, and by no means interested his hearers so much as to make them forget his face, which was so hideous that the caricaturists were forced, in their own despite, to flatter him.' He made, on the contrary, some very sensible speeches on the American War and the Repeal of the Test Acts, and, let it be remembered to his honour, that he advocated a public library for London, an additional grant to the British Museum, and the purchase of Lord Orford's pictures for the nation, which, for lack of 40,000l., went to Russia, and form the chief glories of the Hermitage. As to his 'demoniac grin and inhuman squint,' on which Brougham gloats, there is no doubt that he was ugly and squinted, but it is hard on public men to judge them by caricatures. Posterity will form a far from accurate conception of Sir William Harcourt if they rely on Mr. Furniss. Whatever his ugliness, it was redeemed by his exquisite urbanity. There are few men who could have turned the laugh on their own side so well as he when writing on Hogarth's famous caricature, by which most people stili judge him. He says, 'Such a pencil should speak to all ages, and not be dipped in the dirt of a day. It must be allowed to be an excellent compound caricature, or rather, a caricature of what nature has already caricatured. I know but one apology to be made for this gentleman, or, to speak more properly, for the person of Mr. Wilkes; it is, that he did not make himself, and that he was never solicitous about the cure of his soul, only so far as to keep clean and in health. . . . I can scarcely imagine he will be one moment peevish about the outside of so precarious and temporary a habitation, or will ever be brought to own ingenium Galba male habitat-Monsieur est mal logé. This is the urbanity which made George III. say that he was the best bred Lord Mayor he had ever known,' and Lord Mansfield that Mr. Wilkes was the pleasantest companion, the politest gentleman, and the best scholar he knew,' and Horace Walpole,

that he used his triumph with moderation, in modern language, with good breeding.' Even Dr. Johnson was won over by his delightful manners, until they were found by Boswell reclined upon their chairs, with their heads leaning almost close to each other, and talking earnestly, in a kind of confidential whisper, of the personal quarrel between George II. and the King of Prussia. It presented to my mind the happy days which are foretold in Scripture when the lion shall lie down with the kid.' When Boswell mentioned this brilliant simile to the Bishop of Killaloe, his Lordship said 'with the goat,' but 'such was the engaging politeness and pleasantry of Mr. Wilkes, and such the social good humour of the Bishop, that, when they dined together at Mr. Dilly's, where I also was, they were mutually agreeable.' According to Boswell, 'when Wilkes and I sat together, each glass of wine produced a flash of wit, like gunpowder thrown into the fire-puff! puff!' But Wilkes hardly confirmed this, for he thought the famous 'Life' the work' of an entertaining madman,' in which much was put down to Boswell which was undoubtedly said by Johnson-what the latter did, and the former could not say.' We can well imagine that an encounter with Boswell would have many charms for Wilkes. No man ever lived who could adapt his wit better to his company. Compare his chaff of the Alderman, formerly a bricklayer, who was trying to carve a turbot with a knife-Use a trowel, brother, use a trowel' with his reply to Madame de Pompadour when she asked him, 'How far it was safe to go in England against the Royal family?' That is what I am trying to find out, Madame.' There are few more really witty replies recorded than that made to the Prince Regent, who asked him at dinner when he drank to the King's health, 'How long have you been so loyal, Wilkes?' 'Ever since I knew your Royal Highness.' His famous retort to Lord Sandwich was too much to the taste of the last century to bear quotation in this.

6

He had no delusions about the capacity or character of his supporters, nor did he spare his friends in the City. Being waited upon on one occasion by a deputation, one of them exclaimed, 'Well, Mr. Wilkes, we must take the sense of the Ward.' With all my heart,' he replied, and I will take the nonsense, and beat you ten to one. Just before presenting a petition to the Speaker, he informed that functionary that it was' from a pack of the greatest scoundrels upon earth.' Later on he began his speech, Sir,—I hold in my hand a petition from a most intelligent, independent, and enlightened body of men.' But such a discrepancy of state