ONE THOUSAND FAMOUS THINGS	251
feel In his pockets and find he had bo money; often ask a man a
hundred questions : about the number of his family, about his oats
and beans* about the rent he paid for his house, and ride on. Our
fathers read these simple tales with fond pleasure ; liked the old man
who poked his nose into every cottage; who lived on plain whole-
some roast and boiled ; who despised your French, kickshaws; who
was a true hearty English gentleman.
Their Majesties were very sociable potentates : and the Court
Chronicler telis of numerous visits which they paid to their subjects*
gentle and simple ; with whom they dined ; at whose great country
houses they stopped; or at whose poorer lodgings they affably
partook of tea and bread-and-butter. Some of the great folk spent
enormous sums In entertaining their sovereigns.
The king rose every morning at six, and had two hours to himself.
He thought it effeminate to have a carpet in his bedroom. Shortly
before eight the queen and the royal family were always ready for
him, and they proceeded to the king's chapel in the castle. There
were no fires in the passages ; the chapel was scarcely alight; prin-
cesses, governesses, equerries grumbled and caught cold ; but, cold
or hot, it was their duty to go ; wet or dry, light or dark, the stout old
George was always in his place to say Amen to the chaplain.
All the world knows the story of his malady. History presents no
sadder figure than that of the old man, blind and deprived of reason,
wandering through the rooms of his palace, addressing imaginary
parliaments, reviewing fancied troops, holding ghostly courts. I
have seen his picture as it was taken at this time hanging in the apart-
ment of Ms daughter. The poor old father is represented in a purple
gown, Ms snowy beard failing over his breast, the star of his famous
Order still idly shining on it. He was not only sightless ; he became
utterly deaf. All light, all reason, all sound of human voices, aE the
pleasures of this world of God, were taken from him. Some slight
lucid moments he had; in one of which the queens desiring to see
him, entered the room and found hrn singing a hymn and accom-
panying himself at the harpsichord. When he had finished he knelt
down and prayed aloud for her, and then for his family, and then
for the nation, concluding with a prayer for himself that it might
please God to avert his heavy calamity from Mm; but, if not, to give
him resignation to submit. He then burst into tears, and his reason
again fled.
0 brothers, I said to those who heard me first in America, 0
brothers ! speaking the same dear mother-tongue, 0 comrades !
enemies no more, let us take a mournful hand together as we stand by
this royal corpse, and call a truce to battle ! Low he lies to whom the
proudest used to kneel* and who was cast lower than the poorest.
Hush! Strife and Quarrel, over the solemn grave! Sound,
trumpets, a mournful march ! Fall, dark curtain, upon his pageant,
his pride, his grief, his awful tragedy 1	W. M. Thackeray