CHRISTOPHER, an English poet, celebrated for his translation of Virgil's Æneid, was born in the year 1699. Having studied four years at New College, Oxford, he was presented to the living of Pimperne, in Dorsetshire, which he held during the remainder of his life. He had so poetical a turn, that whilst he was a school-boy he wrote two large folios of manuscript poems, one of which contained an entire translation of Lucan. He was much esteemed while at the university, particularly by the celebrated Dr Young, who used familiarly to call him his son. Next to his translation of Virgil, Mr Pitt gained the greatest reputation by his excellent English version of Vida's Art of Poetry. This amiable poet died in the year 1748, without leaving, it is said, one enemy behind him.

Pitt, William, first Earl of Chatham, a celebrated British statesman and orator, was born on the 15th of November 1708. He was the youngest son of Mr Robert Pitt of Boconnock, in Cornwall, and grandson of Mr Thomas Pitt, governor of Fort St George in the East Indies in the reign of Queen Anne, who sold an extraordinary diamond to the king of France for L135,000, and thus obtained the name of Diamond Pitt. The subject of this notice was educated at Eton, whence, in January 1726, he was removed to Trinity College, Oxford, which he entered as a gentleman commoner. Here the superiority of his mind soon attracted notice, and he was also remarked for his powers of elocution; but, at the age of sixteen, he experienced the first attacks of an hereditary and incurable gout, which continued at intervals to torment him during the remainder of his life. He quitted the university without taking a degree, and visited France and Italy, whence he returned without having received much benefit from his excursion.

His father was now dead, and as he had left very little to the younger children, it became necessary that William should choose a profession. He decided for the army, and a cornet's commission was procured for him in the Blues. But, small as his fortune was, his family had the power and the inclination to serve him. At the general election of 1734, his elder brother Thomas was chosen both for Old Sarum and for Oakhampton. When parliament met in 1735, Thomas made his election for Oakhampton, and William was returned for Old Sarum. At the time when he obtained a seat in parliament he was not quite twenty-one years of age. The intention of bringing him thus early into parliament was to oppose Sir Robert Walpole, who had now been fourteen years at the head of affairs. In fact, his abilities soon attracted notice, and he spoke with great vehemence against the Spanish convention in 1738. It was on the occasion of the bill for registering seamen in 1740, which he opposed as arbitrary and unjustifiable, that he is said to have made his celebrated reply to Mr Walpole, who had taunted him on account of his youth; but the language of that reply, as it now stands, is not the diction of Pitt, who may have said something like what is ascribed to him, but of Dr Johnson, who then reported, or rather wrote, the debates for the Gentleman's Magazine. In 1746 Pitt was appointed joint vice-treasurer of Ireland, and in the same year treasurer and paymaster-general of the army, and a privy-councillor. The office of paymaster he discharged with such inflexible integrity, even refusing many of the ordinary perquisites of office, that his bitterest enemies could lay nothing to his charge, and he soon became the darling of the people. At this time he was poor enough; but Heaven directed to him a portion of wealth altogether unexpected. The old Duchess of Marlborough, who carried to the grave the reputation of being decidedly the best hater of her time, and who most cordially detested Walpole and his associates, left him a legacy of L10,000, in consideration of "the noble defence he had made for the support of the laws of England, and to prevent the ruin of his country." In the year 1755, Mr Pitt, deeming it necessary to offer a strong opposition to the continental connections then formed by the ministry, resigned his places, and remained some time out of office. But his resignation having alarmed the people, he was, in December 1756, called to fill a higher office, and appointed secretary of state. In this situation, however, he was more successful in obtaining the confidence of the public than in conciliating the favour of the king, some of whose predilections he had conceived himself bound to oppose. The consequence was, that soon afterwards Mr Pitt was removed from office, whilst Mr Legge, with some others of his friends, were at the same time dismissed. But the nation had a mind not to be deprived of his services. The most exalted notion had been formed of him throughout the country; his patriotism was believed to be as pure and disinterested as his abilities and eloquence were confessedly transcendent; and his colleagues shared in the same general favour. In a word, the opinion of the country was so strongly expressed, both directly and indirectly, that the king thought it prudent to yield; and, on the 25th of June 1757, Mr Pitt was again appointed secretary of state, Mr Legge became chancellor of the exchequer, and the other arrangements were made conformably to his wishes. Mr Pitt was now in effect prime minister; and the change which soon took place in the aspect of public affairs evinced the ability of his measures, and the vigour of his administration. His spirit animated the whole nation; and his activity pervaded every department of the public service. His plans were ably conceived, and promptly executed; and the depression, which had been occasioned by want of energy in the cabinet, and ill success in the field, was followed by exertion, confidence, and triumph. The whole fortune of the war was changed. In every quarter of the globe success attended our arms. The boldest attempts were made both by land and by sea, and almost every attempt proved fortunate. In America, the French lost Quebec; in Africa, they were deprived of their principal settlements; their power was abridged in the East Indies; in Europe their armies were defeated; and, to render their humiliation more complete, their navy, their commerce, and their finances were almost ruined. Amidst this full tide of success George II. died, on the 25th of October 1760, and was succeeded by George III., who ascended the throne at a time when the French court had just succeeded in obtaining the cooperation of Spain.

The treaty commonly called family compact had been secretly concluded; but the English minister, correctly informed of the hostile intentions of Spain, determined to anticipate that power, and strike a blow before this new enemy should be fully prepared for action. He therefore proposed in the council an immediate declaration of war against Spain; urging forcibly that the present was the favourable moment for humbling the whole house of Bourbon. But when he stated this opinion in the privy council, the other ministers, averse to so bold a measure, opposed the proposition of the premier, alleging the necessity of mature deliberation before declaring war against so powerful a state. Irritated by the unexpected opposition of his colleagues, Pitt replied, "I will not give them leave to think; this is the time, let us crush the whole house of Bourbon. But if the members of this board are of a different opinion, this is the last time I shall ever mix in its councils. I was called into the ministry by the voice of the people, and to them I hold myself answerable for my conduct. I am to thank the ministers of the late king for their support; I have served my country with success; but I will not be responsible for the conduct of the war any longer than while I have the direction of it." To this declaration the president of the council answered, "I find the gentleman is determined to leave us; nor can I say that I am sorry for it, since he would otherwise have certainly compelled us to leave him. But if he is resolved to assume the right of advising his majesty, and directing the operations of the war, to what purpose are we called to this council?" When he talks of being responsible to the people, he talks the language of the House of Commons, and forgets that at this board he is responsible only to the king. However, though he may possibly have convinced himself of his infallibility, still it remains that we should be equally convinced before we can resign our un- derstandings to his direction, or join with him in the measure he proposes." The opposition he thus encountered the nation attributed to the growing influence of Lord Bute. But however this may have been, Mr Pitt was a man of too high, not to say imperious a temper, to remain as the nominal head of a cabinet which he was no longer able to direct. Accordingly, on the 5th of October 1761, he resigned all his appointments; and, as some reward for his services, his wife was created Baroness Chatham in her own right, whilst a pension of L3000 a year was settled on the lives of himself, his lady, and his eldest son.

No fallen minister, if fallen he could be called, ever carried with him more completely the confidence and regret of the nation, whose affairs he had so successfully administered. But at this time the king was also popular; and the war being continued by his new ministers with vigour and success, no discontent appeared until after the conclusion of the peace. The impulse given by Mr Pitt had carried them forward in the same direction which he had pursued; but they were equally incapable of profiting by the advantages which had been already gained, or of prosecuting the war until the objects for which it was originally undertaken should be accomplished. The victories gained over France and Spain having greatly elated the nation, the feeling which almost universally prevailed amongst the people was, that we should either dictate peace as conquerors, or continue the war until our adversaries were more effectually humbled. This was likewise Mr Pitt's opinion. Accordingly, when the preliminaries of peace came to be discussed in parliament, he went down to the House of Commons, though suffering severely from an attack of the gout, and spoke for nearly three hours in the debate; giving his opinion on each article of the treaty in succession, and, upon the whole, maintaining that it was inadequate to the conquests of our arms, and the just expectations of the country. Peace was, however, concluded on the 10th of February 1763, and Mr Pitt continued unemployed.

After his resignation in 1761, Mr Pitt conducted himself in a manner worthy of his high character. So far from giving a vexatious and undiscriminating opposition to the ministry which had succeeded his own, he maintained his popularity in dignified retirement, and came forward only when questions of great importance were to be discussed. One of these occurred in 1764, on the subject of general warrants, the illegality of which he denounced with all the energy and vigour of his eloquence. Another occasion, when he came forward in all his strength, was the consideration of the discontents which had arisen on account of the stamp-act. In March 1766, the repeal of that act having been proposed by the Rockingham ministry, Mr Pitt, though not connected with them, ably supported the measure, which was carried, but whether prudently or the contrary is still a matter of dispute. About this time Mr Pitt had devised to him by will a considerable estate in Somersetshire, the property of Sir William Pymset of Burton-Pynsent in that county, who, from admiration of his public character, disinherited his own relations, in order to bequeath to him the bulk of his fortune. After the dissolution of the Rockingham ministry, a new administration was formed, and, in 1766, Mr Pitt was appointed lord privy seal. At the same time he was created a peer by the titles of Viscount Pitt of Burton-Pynsent in the county of Somerset, and Earl of Chatham in the county of Kent.

Whatever might be his motives in accepting a peerage, it is certain that it proved very prejudicial to his character, and that in consequence he sank as much in popularity as he rose in nominal dignity. The great commoner, as he was sometimes called, had formed a rank for himself, on the basis of his talents and exertions, which titular honours might obscure, but could not illustrate; and, with the example of Pulteney before him, he should have been careful to preserve it untarnished by empty distinctions, shared by the mean and the worthless as well as by the great, the gifted, and the good. Lord Chatham, however, did not long continue in office after being elevated to the peerage. On the 2d of November 1768, he resigned the place of lord privy seal, and never afterwards held any public employment; nor does he appear to have been at all desirous of returning to office. He was now sixty, and the gout, by which he had so long been afflicted, disabled him, by its frequent and violent attacks, for close and regular application to business. In the intervals of his disorder, however, he failed not to exert himself upon questions of great magnitude; and, in 1775, 1776, and 1777, he most strenuously opposed the measures pursued by the ministers in the contest with America. His last appearance in the House of Lords was on the 2d of April 1778. He was then very ill, and much debilitated; but the question was important, being a motion of the Duke of Richmond to address his majesty to remove the ministers, and to make peace with America on any terms. His lordship made a long speech, in which he summoned up all his remaining strength to pour out his disapprobation of a measure so inglorious. But the effort overcame him; for in attempting to rise a second time, he fell down in a convulsive fit; and though he recovered for the time, his disorder continued to increase until the 11th of May, when he expired at his seat at Hayes. His death was lamented as a national loss. As soon as the news reached the House of Commons, which was then sitting, Colonel Barré made a motion, that an address should be presented to his majesty, requesting that the Earl of Chatham should be buried at the public expense. But Mr Rigby having proposed the erection of a statue to his memory, as more likely to perpetuate the sense of his great merits entertained by the public, this was unanimously agreed to. A bill was soon afterwards passed, by which L4000 a year was settled upon John, now Earl of Chatham, and the heirs of the late earl to whom that title might descend. His lordship was married in 1754 to Lady Hester, sister of Earl Temple, by whom he had three sons and two daughters.

The principal outlines of Pitt's character have been variously sketched, sometimes with, and sometimes without, any depth of shadow. The truth is, that there scarcely ever lived a person who had less claim to be painted altogether en beau, or who so little merited unsparing censure. "That he was a great man cannot for a moment be doubted; but he was not a complete and well-proportioned greatness. The public life of Hampden or of Somers resembles a regular drama, which can be criticised as a whole, and every scene of which is to be viewed in connection with the main action. The public life of Pitt, on the other hand, is a rude though striking piece, abounding in incongruities, and without any unity of plan, but redeemed by some noble passages, the effect of which is increased by the tameness or extravagance of what precedes and of what follows. His opinions were unfixed; and his conduct, at some of the most important conjunctures of his life, was evidently determined by pride and resentment. He had one fault, which of all human faults is most rarely found in company with true greatness. He was extremely affected. He was an almost solitary instance of a man of real genius, and of a brave, lofty, and commanding spirit, without simplicity of character. He was an actor in the closet, an actor in the council, an actor in parliament; and even in private society he could not lay aside his theatrical tones and attitudes. We know that one of the most distinguished of his partisans often complained that he could never obtain admittance to Lord Chatham's room till everything was ready for the representation; till the light was thrown with Rembrandt-like effect on the head of the illustrious performer; till the flannels had been arranged with the air of Grecian drapery, and the crutch placed as gracefully as that of Belisarius or Lear." Yet, with all his faults and affectations, he possessed, in a very extraordinary degree, many of the elements of true greatness. He had splendid talents, strong passions, quick sensibility, and vehement enthusiasm for the grand and the beautiful. There was something about him which ennobled even tergiversation itself. He often went wrong, very far wrong; but, amidst the abasement of error, he still retained what he had received from nature, "an intense and glowing mind." In an age of low and despicable prostitution, the age of Dodington and Sandys, it was something to have a man who might perhaps, under some strong excitement, have been tempted to ruin his country, but who never would have stooped to pilfer from her; a man whose errors arose, not from a sordid desire of gain, but from a fierce thirst of power, glory, and vengeance. "History owes him this attestation, that, at a time when anything short of direct embezzlement of the public money was considered as quite fair in public men, he showed the most scrupulous disinterestedness; that, at a time when it seemed to be generally taken for granted that government could be upheld only by the basest and most immoral arts, he appealed to the better and nobler parts of human nature; that he made a brave and splendid attempt to do, by means of public opinion, what no other statesman of his day thought it possible to do except by means of corruption; that he looked for support, not, like the Pelhams, to a strong aristocratical connection, nor, like Bute, to the personal favour of the sovereign, but to the middle class of Englishmen; that he inspired that class with a firm confidence in his integrity and ability; that, backed by them, he forced an unwilling court and an unwilling oligarchy to admit him to an ample share of power; and that he used his power in such a manner as clearly proved that he had sought it, not for the sake of profit or patronage, but from a wish to establish for himself a great and durable reputation by means of eminent services rendered to the state."

A great many unmeaning phrases have been employed, and much rhetorical exaggeration has been expended, in attempts to characterize Lord Chatham's style of eloquence. The following estimate by Mr Macaulay, from whom we have borrowed some of the foregoing observations, is at once deep, discriminating, and brilliant.

"In our time the audience of a member of parliament is the nation. The three or four hundred persons who may be present when a speech is delivered, may be pleased or disgusted by the voice and action of the orator; but in the reports which are read the next day by hundreds of thousands, the difference between the noblest and the meanest figure, between the richest and the shrillest tones, between the most graceful and the most uncouth gesture, altogether vanishes. A hundred years ago, scarcely any report of what passed within the walls of the House of Commons was suffered to get abroad. In those times, therefore, the impression which a speaker might make on the persons who actually heard him was everything. The impression out of doors was hardly worth a thought. In the parliaments of that time, therefore, as in the ancient commonwealths, those qualifications which enhance the immediate effect of a speech were far more important ingredients in the composition of an orator than they would appear to be in our time. All those qualifications Pitt possessed in the highest degree. On the stage, he would have been the finest Brutus or Coriolanus ever seen. Those who saw him in his decay, when his health was broken, when his mind was jangled, when he had been removed from that stormy assembly of which he thoroughly knew the temper, and over which he possessed unbounded influence, to a small, a torpid, and an unfriendly audience, say that his speaking was then, for the most part, a low monotonous muttering, audible only to those who sat close to him; that, when violently excited, he sometimes raised his voice for a few minutes, but that it soon sank again into an unintelligible murmur. Such was the Earl of Chatham; but such was not William Pitt. His figure, when he first appeared in parliament, was strikingly graceful and commanding, his features high and noble, his eye full of fire. His voice, even when it sank to a whisper, was heard to the remotest benches; when he strained it to its full extent, the sound rose like the swell of the organ of a great cathedral, shook the house with its peal, and was heard through lobbies and down stair-cases, to the court of requests and the precincts of Westminster Hall. He cultivated all these eminent advantages with the most assiduous care. His action is described by a very malignant observer as equal to that of Garrick. His play of countenance was wonderful; he frequently disconcerted a hostile orator by a single glance of indignation or scorn. Every tone, from the impassioned cry to the thrilling aside, was perfectly at his command. It is by no means improbable, that the pains which he took to improve his great personal advantages had, in some respects, a prejudicial operation, and tended to nourish in him that passion for theatrical effect which was one of the most conspicuous blemishes in his character.

"But it was not solely or principally to outward accomplishments that Pitt owed the vast influence which, during nearly thirty years, he exercised over the House of Commons. He was undoubtedly a great orator; and from the descriptions of his contemporaries, and the fragments of his speeches which still remain, it is not difficult to discover the nature and extent of his oratorical powers.

"He was no speaker of set speeches. His few prepared discourses were complete failures. The elaborate panegyric which he pronounced on General Wolfe was considered as the very worst of all his performances. 'No man,' says a critic, who had often heard him, 'ever knew so little what he was going to say.' Indeed, his facility amounted to a vice; he was not the master, but the slave of his own speech. So little self-command had he when once he felt the impulse, that he did not like to take part in a debate when his mind was full of an important secret of state. 'I must sit still,' he once said to Lord Shelburne on such an occasion, 'for when once I am up, everything that is in my mind comes out.'

"Yet he was not a great debater. That he should not have been so when he first entered the House of Commons, is not strange; scarcely any person has ever become so without long practice and many failures. It was by slow degrees, as Burke said, that Mr Fox became the most brilliant and powerful debater that parliament ever saw. Mr Fox himself attributed his own success to the resolution which he formed when very young, of speaking, well or ill, at least once every night. 'During five whole sessions,' he used to say, 'I spoke every night but one; and I regret only that I did not speak that night too.' Indeed it would be difficult to name any great debater who has not made himself a master of his art at the expense of his audience.

"But as this art is one which even the ablest men have seldom acquired without long practice, so it is one which..." men of respectable abilities, with assiduous and intrepid practice, seldom fail to acquire. It is singular that, in such an art, Pitt, a man of splendid talents, great fluency, and dauntless boldness, whose whole life was passed in parliamentary conflict, and who, during several years, was the leading minister of the crown in the House of Commons, should never have attained to high excellence. He spoke without premeditation; but his speech followed the course of his own thoughts, and not that of the previous discussion. He could, indeed, treasure up in his memory some detached expression of an hostile orator, and make it the text for sparkling ridicule or burning invective. Some of the most celebrated bursts of his eloquence were called forth by an unguarded word, a laugh, or a cheer. But this was the only sort of reply in which he appears to have excelled. He was perhaps the only great English orator who did not think it an advantage to have the last word, and who generally spoke by choice before his most formidable opponents. His merit was almost entirely rhetorical. He did not succeed either in exposition or refutation; but his speeches abounded with lively illustrations, striking apophthegms, well-told anecdotes, happy allusions, passionate appeals. His invective and sarcasm were tremendous. Perhaps no English orator was ever so much feared.

"But that which gave most effect to his declamation, was the air of sincerity, of vehement feeling, or moral elevation, which belonged to all that he said. His style was not always in the purest taste. Several contemporary judges pronounced it too florid. Walpole, in the midst of the rapturous eulogy which he pronounces on one of Pitt's greatest orations, owns that some of the metaphors were too forced. The quotations and classical stories of the orator are sometimes too trite for a clever school-boy. But these were niceties for which the audience cared little. The enthusiasm of the orator infected all who were near him; his ardour and his noble bearing put fire into the most frigid conceit, and gave dignity to the most puerile allusion."

Such is the character of this great statesman and orator, as drawn by one masterly hand. It may perhaps both instruct and interest our readers, if we present another, delineated by an artist equally distinguished for the vigour, judgment, and fidelity with which he paints such grand pieces for the gallery of history. The preceding, as we have already said, is from the pen of Mr Macaulay: the following is understood to be from that of Lord Brougham.

"The first place among the great qualities which distinguished Lord Chatham, is unquestionably due to firmness of purpose, resolute determination in the pursuit of his objects. This was the characteristic of the younger Brutus, as he said, who had spared his life to fall by his hand.—Quicquid volu, id valde volu; and although extremely apt to be shown in excess, it must be admitted to be the foundation of all true greatness of character. Everything, however, depends upon the endowments in whose company it is found; and in Lord Chatham these were of a very high order. The quickness with which he could ascertain his object, and discover his road to it, was fully commensurate with his perseverance and his boldness in pursuing it; the firmness of grasp with which he held his advantage was fully equalled by the rapidity of the glance with which he discovered it. Add to this a mind eminently fertile in resources, a courage which nothing could daunt in the choice of his means, a resolution equally indomitable in their application, a genius, in short, original and daring, which bounded over the petty obstacles raised by ordinary men,—their squeamishness, and their precedents, and their forms, and their regularities,—and forced away its path through the entanglements of this base undergrowth to the worthy object ever in his view, the prosperity and the renown of his country. Far superior to the paltry objects of a grovelling ambition, and regardless alike of party and of personal considerations, he constantly set before his eyes the highest duty of a public man, to further the interests of his species. In pursuing his course towards that goal, he disregarded alike the frowns of power and the gales of popular applause; exposed himself undaunted to the vengeance of the court; while he battled against its corruptions, and confronted, unabashed, the rudest shocks of public indignation, while he resisted the dictates of pernicious agitators; and could conscientiously exclaim, with an illustrious statesman of antiquity, 'Ego hoc animo semper fui ut vidiam virtute partam, gloriari non invidiam patarem.'

"Nothing could be more entangled than the foreign policy of this country at the time when he took the supreme direction of her affairs; nothing could be more disastrous than the aspect of her fortunes in every quarter of the globe. With a single ally in Europe, the king of Prussia, and him beset by a combination of all the continental powers in unnatural union to effect his destruction; with an army of insignificant amount, and commanded by men only desirous of grasping at the emoluments, without doing the duties or incurring the risks of their profession; with a navy that could hardly keep the sea, and whose chiefs vied with their comrades on shore in earning the character given them by the new minister, of being utterly unfit to be trusted in any enterprise accompanied with 'the least appearance of danger,' with a generally prevailing dislike of both services, which at once repressed all desire of joining either, and damped all public spirit in the country, by extinguishing all hope of success, and even all love of glory; it was hardly possible for a nation to be placed in circumstances more inauspicious to military exertions; and yet war raged in every quarter of the world where our dominion extended, while the territories of our only ally, as well as those of our own sovereign in Germany, were invaded by France, and her forces by sea and land menaced our shores. In the distant possessions of the crown the same want of enterprise and of spirit prevailed. Armies in the West were paralysed by the inaction of a captain who would hardly take the pains to write a despatch recording the nonentity of his operations; and in the East, while frightful disasters were brought upon our settlements by barbarian powers, the only military capacity that appeared in their defence was the accidental display of genius and valour by a merchant's clerk, who thus raised himself to celebrity. In this forlorn state of affairs, rendering it as impossible to think of peace, as it seemed hopeless to continue the yet inevitable war, the base and sordid views of politicians kept pace with the mean spirit of the military caste; and parties were split or united, not upon any difference or agreement of public principle, but upon mere questions of patronage, and share in the public spoil, while all seemed alike actuated by one only passion, the thirst alternately of power and of gain.

"As soon as Mr Pitt took the helm, the steadiness of the hand that held it came to be felt in every motion of the vessel. There was no more of wavering councils, of torpid inaction, of listless expectancy, of abject despondency. His firmness gave confidence, his spirit roused courage, his vigilance secured exertion, in every department under his sway. Each man, from the first lord of the admiralty down to the most humble clerk in the victualling office; each soldier, from the commander-in-chief to the most obscure contractor or commissary; now felt assured that he was acting or indolent under the eye of one who knew his duties and his means as well as his own, and who would very certainly make all defaulters, whether through misfeasance or through nonfeasance, accountable for whatever detriment the commonwealth might sustain at their hands. Over his immediate coadjutors, his influence swiftly obtained an ascendant which it ever after retained uninterrupted. Upon his first proposition for changing the conduct of the war, he stood single among his colleagues, and tendered his resignation should they persist in their dissent; they at once succumbed, and from that hour ceased to have an opinion of their own upon any branch of the public affairs. Nay, so absolutely was he determined to have the control of those measures, of which he knew the responsibility rested upon him alone, that he insisted upon the first lord of the admiralty not having the correspondence of his own department; and no less eminent a naval character than Lord Anson, with his junior lords, were obliged to sign the orders issued by Mr Pitt, while the writing was covered over from their eyes.

"The effects of this change in the whole management of the public business, and in all the plans of the government, as well as in their execution, were speedily made manifest to all the world. The German troops were sent home, and a well-regulated militia being established to defend the country, a large disposable force was distributed over the various points whence the enemy might be annoyed. France, attacked on some points and menaced on others, was compelled to retire from Germany, soon afterwards suffered the most disastrous defeats, and, instead of threatening England and her allies with invasion, had to defend herself against attack, suffering severely in several of her most important naval stations. No less than sixteen islands, and settlements, and fortresses of importance were taken from her in America, and Asia, and Africa, including all her West Indian colonies except St Domingo, and all her settlements in the East. The whole important province of Canada was likewise conquered; and the Havannah was taken from Spain. Beside this, the seas were swept clear of the fleets that had so lately been insulting all our colonies, and even all our coasts. Many general actions were fought and gained; one among them the most decisive that had ever been fought by our navy. Thirty-six sail of the line were taken or destroyed, fifty frigates, forty-five sloops of war. So brilliant a course of uninterrupted success had never, in modern times, attended the arms of any nation carrying on war with other states equal to it in civilization, and nearly a match in power. But it is a more glorious feature in this unexampled administration which history has to record, when it adds, that all public distress had disappeared; all discontent in any quarter, both of the colonies and parent state, had ceased; that no oppression was anywhere practised, no abuse suffered to prevail; that no encroachments were made upon the rights of the subject, no malversations tolerated in the possessors of power; and that England, for the first time and for the last time, presented the astonishing picture of a nation supporting without murmur a widely extended and costly war, and a people hitherto torn with conflicting parties, so united in the service of the commonwealth that the voice of faction had ceased in the land, and any discordant whisper was heard no more. 'These,' said the son of his first and most formidable adversary, Walpole, when informing his correspondent abroad, that the session, as usual, had ended without any kind of opposition, or even of debate, 'These are the doings of Mr Pitt, and they are wondrous in our eyes.'

"To genius irregularity is incident, and the greatest genius is often marked by eccentricity, as if it disdained to move in the vulgar orbit. Hence he who is fitted by his nature, and trained by his habits, to be an accomplished pilot in extremity, and whose inclinations carry him forth to seek the deep when the waves run high, may be found, if not 'to steer too near the shore,' yet to despise the sunken rocks which they that can only be trusted in calm weather would have more surely avoided. To this rule it cannot be said that Lord Chatham afforded any exception; and although a plot had certainly been formed to eject him from the ministry, leaving the chief control of affairs in the feeble hands of Lord Bute, whose only support was court favour, and whose only talent lay in an expertise at intrigue, yet there can be little doubt that this scheme was only rendered practicable by the hostility which the great minister's unbending habits, his contempt of ordinary men, and his neglect of everyday matters, had raised against him among all the creatures both of Downing Street and St James's. In fact, his colleagues, who necessarily felt humbled by his superiority, were needlessly mortified by the constant display of it; and it would have betokened a still higher reach of understanding, as well as a purer fabric of patriotism, if he whose great capacity threw those subordinates into the shade, and before whose vigour in action they were sufficiently willing to yield, had united a little suavity in his demeanour with his extraordinary powers, nor made it always necessary for them to acknowledge as well as to feel their inferiority. It is certain that the insulting arrangement of the admiralty, to which reference has been already made, while it lowered that department in the public opinion, rendered all connected with him his personal enemies; and, indeed, though there have, since his days, been prime ministers whom he would never have suffered to sit even as puny lords at his boards, yet were one like himself again to govern the country, the admiralty chief who might be far inferior to Lord Anson would never submit to the humiliation inflicted upon that gallant and skilful captain. Mr Pitt's policy seemed formed upon the assumption that either each public functionary was equal to himself in boldness, activity, and resource, or that he was to preside over and animate each department in person; and his confidence was such in his own powers, that he reversed the maxim of governing, never to force your way where you can win it; and always disdained to insinuate where he could dash in, or to persuade where he could command. It thus happened that his colleagues were but nominally coadjutors, and though they durst not thwart him, yet rendered no heart-service to aid his schemes. Indeed it has clearly appeared since his time, that they were chiefly induced to yield him implicit obedience, and leave the undivided direction of all operations in his hands, by the expectation that the failure of what they were wont to sneer at as 'Mr Pitt's visions,' would turn the tide of public opinion against him, and prepare his downfall from a height of which they felt that there was no one but himself able to dispossess him."

The same powerful writer, having thus sketched the character of the statesman, proceeds next to delineate that of the orator, as far as this can now be done from the extremely scanty and imperfect materials which have been preserved. The fame of Lord Chatham's eloquence is, in truth, almost wholly traditional.

"There is indeed hardly any eloquence, of ancient or of modern times, of which so little that can be relied on as authentic has been preserved; unless perhaps that of Pericles, Julius Caesar, and Lord Bolingbroke. Of the actions of the two first we have sufficient records, as we have of Lord Chatham's; of their speeches we have little that can be regarded as genuine; although, by unquestionable tradition, we know that each of them was second only to the greatest orator of their respective countries; while of Bolingbroke we only know, from Dean Swift, that he was the most accomplished speaker of his time; and it is related of Mr Pitt (the younger), that when the conversation rolled upon lost works, and some said they should prefer restoring the books of Livy, some of Tacitus, and some a Latin tragedy, he at once decided for a speech of Bolingbroke. What we know of his own father's oratory is much more to be gleaned from contemporary panegyrics, and accounts of its effects, than from the scanty, and for the most part doubtful, remains which have reached us.

"All accounts, however, concur in representing those effects to have been prodigious. The spirit and vehemence which animated its greater passages, their perfect application to the subject-matter of debate, the appositeness of his invective to the individual assailed, the boldness of the feats which he ventured upon, the grandeur of the ideas which he unfolded, the heart-stirring nature of his appeals, are all confessed by the united testimony of all his contemporaries; and the fragments which remain bear out to a considerable extent such representations; nor are we likely to be misled by those fragments, for the more striking portions were certainly the ones least likely to be either forgotten or fabricated. To these mighty attractions was added the imposing, the animating, the commanding power of a countenance singularly expressive; an eye so piercing that hardly any one could stand its glare; and a manner altogether singularly striking, original, and characteristic, notwithstanding a peculiarly defective and even awkward action. Latterly, indeed, his infirmities precluded all action; and he is described as standing in the House of Lords, leaning upon his crutch, and speaking for ten minutes together in an under-tone of voice scarcely audible, but raising his notes to their full pitch when he broke out into one of his grand bursts of invective or exclamation. But in his earlier time, his whole manner is represented as having been beyond conception animated and imposing. Indeed the things which he effected by it principally, or at least which nothing but a most striking and commanding tone could have made it possible to attempt, almost exceed belief. Some of these salutes are indeed examples of that approach made to the ludicrous by the sublime, which has been charged upon him as a prevailing fault, and represented under the name of charlatanerie,—a favourite phrase with his adversaries, as it in later times has been with the ignorant undervaluers of Lord Erskine. It is related, that once in the House of Commons he began a speech with the words, 'Sugar, Mr Speaker,'—and then, observing a smile to prevail in the audience, he paused, looking fiercely around, and with a loud voice, rising in its notes, and swelling into vehement anger, he is said to have pronounced again the word 'Sugar!' three times,—and having thus quelled the house, and extinguished every appearance of levity or laughter, turned round and disdainfully asked, 'Who will laugh at sugar now?' We have this anecdote on good traditional authority; that it was believed by those who had the best means of knowing Lord Chatham, is certain; and this of itself shows their sense of the extraordinary powers of his manner, and the reach of his audacity in trusting to those powers.

"There can be no doubt that of reasoning,—of sustained and close argument,—his speeches had but little. His statements were desultory, though striking, perhaps not very distinct, certainly not at all detailed, and as certainly every way inferior to those of his celebrated son. If he did not reason cogently, he assuredly did not compress his matter vigorously. He was anything rather than a concise or a short speaker; not that his great passages were at all diffuse, or in the least degree loaded with superfluous words; but he was prolix in the whole texture of his discourse, and he was certainly the first who introduced into our senate the practice, adopted in the American war by Mr Burke, and continued by others, of long speeches—speeches of two and three hours, by which oratory has gained little, and business less. His discourse was, however, fully informed with matter—his allusions to analogous subjects, and his reference to the history of past events, were frequent—his expression of his own opinions was copious and free, and stood very generally in the place of any elaborate reasoning in their support. A noble statement of enlarged views, a generous avowal of dignified sentiments, a manly and somewhat severe contempt for all petty or mean views, whether their baseness proceeded from narrow understanding or from corrupt bias, always pervaded his whole discourse; and, more than any other orator since Demosthenes, he was distinguished by the nobleness of feeling with which he regarded, and the amplitude of survey which he cast upon, the subject-matters of debate. His invective was unsparing, and hard to be endured, although he was a less eminent master of sarcasm than his son, and rather overwhelmed his antagonist with the burst of words and vehement indignation, than wounded him by the edge of ridicule, or tortured him with the gall of bitter scorn, or fixed his arrow in the wound by the barb of epigram. These things seemed, as it were, to be taken too much labour and too much art, more labour than was consistent with absolute scorn, more art than could stand with heartfelt rage, or entire contempt inspired by the occasion, at the moment, and on the spot. But his great passages, those by which he has come down to us, those which gave his eloquence its peculiar character, and to which its dazzling success was owing, were as sudden and unexpected as they were natural. Every one was taken by surprise when they rolled forth; every one felt them to be so natural, that he could hardly understand why he had not thought of them himself although into no one's imagination had they ever entered. If the quality of being natural without being obvious is a pretty correct description of felicitous expression, or what is called fine writing; it is a yet more accurate representation of fine passages, or felicitous hits in speaking. In these all popular assemblies take boundless delight; by these, above all others, are the minds of an audience at pleasure moved or controlled. They form the grand charm of Lord Chatham's oratory; they were the distinguishing excellence of his great predecessor, and gave him at will to wield the fierce democracy of Athens, and to fulminate over Greece."

Many years ago, a small volume was published by Lord Grenville, containing letters written by the Earl of Chatham to his nephew, Thomas Pitt, Lord Camelford. They are replete with excellent advice, conveyed in an easy, affectionate, and not inelegant style, having all of them been penned evidently without effort, under the simple impulse of the kindly feelings and anxious interest which they manifest throughout. At the same time they might have been written by a person vastly inferior to Lord Chatham; and indeed one can scarcely avoid surprise at the absence of every trace of that genius, power, and originality, for which the writer was so greatly distinguished. We may add, that amidst the different conjectures which have at various times been entertained and abandoned, respecting the authorship of Junius, Lord Chatham has once and again been pointed to as the writer of these celebrated and still unclaimed letters; nor can it be doubted by one who has made himself master of the question, that there are circumstances of a very striking kind which appear to give a certain colour of probability to this supposition. Indeed it would not be difficult, we think, to make out as strong a case in his favour as any that has yet been offered.

Edinburgh Review, vol. lxviii., p. 438, et seq. to the public in behalf of others, none of whom had his "motive and cue for action." But as time, the great revealer of all mysteries, will most likely, ere long, remove the veil by which this is covered, we shall not add to the mass of doubtful speculation by reviving a discussion which, by a sort of tacit consent, has for some time been abandoned as unprofitable and nugatory.

Pitt, William, the second son of the preceding, and his legitimate successor in talents and celebrity as a statesman and orator, was born on the 28th of May 1759. His father, having confided the care of his eldest and youngest sons to others, took William under his own inspection; and the rapid progress of the son cheered the solitude and brightened the declining days of this illustrious statesman. The school exercises of the youth were performed under the direction of a private tutor well qualified for the task assigned him; whilst his father, finding in him a capacity above his years, embraced every opportunity of conversing freely with him upon topics of interest, calculated to expand his mind and mature his judgment. It is even said that he also made him declaim from a chair or table; well knowing the importance of an easy, natural, and dignified elocution, which, in his own case, had helped to supply the deficiencies of fortune. The proficiency of the youth was such that, at the age of fourteen, he was found qualified for being sent to the university; and Cambridge was preferred to Oxford, from a decided opinion entertained by many, that the political doctrines inculcated at the former place were more liberal than those usually promulgated at the latter. He was accordingly entered at Pembroke Hall, where he was placed under the tuition of Dr Turner; whilst Dr Prettyman, afterwards Tomline, and successively bishop of Lincoln and of Winchester, officiated as his private instructor. During his residence at Cambridge, Mr Pitt was distinguished alike for the assiduity of his application, and the success that attended his efforts to acquire those branches of knowledge to which his studies were more particularly directed; nor have many young men of rank ever passed through the ordeal of an university, exposed to the contaminating influence of seductive example, with a higher character for morals, abilities, industry, and regularity. Here young Pitt took his bachelor's degree, and also that of master of arts, both in a creditable manner; and acquired a reputation for talents, diligence, and propriety of deportment, which proved eminently serviceable to him in after life. Being intended by his father for the bar and the senate, his education was regulated so as to embrace both these objects; and it is certain that his early acquisitions in various branches of knowledge must have far exceeded those of almost any of his contemporaries.

After quitting the university, he went to the Continent, and passed a short time at Rheims, the capital of Champagne. The death of his father, however, whilst he was only in his nineteenth year, could scarcely fail to throw a cloud over the prospects of the younger son; but the foundation of future distinction had been firmly laid, and it only remained for him to clear the path to eminence by his own exertions. He had already entered himself a student of Lincoln's Inn; and as soon as he came of age he was called to the bar, having received some favour on account of his degree. He made choice of the western circuit, and appeared in several causes as junior counsel; in which capacity, of course, he had few or no opportunities of distinguishing himself. The result of this short experiment, however, was thought sufficient to encourage him to pursue the career of the law, and rendered it almost certain that he would ultimately attain a high rank in his profession; but a seat in parliament, which he soon afterwards obtained, gave his ambition its proper direction, and placed him in the arena where he was best calculated to excel. At the general election in 1780, he had been induced to offer himself as a candidate for the representation of the university of Cambridge; but finding that, from want of sufficient influence, he had no chance of success, he declined the contest, and in the following year was returned for the borough of Appleby, through the interest of Sir James Lowther, afterwards Earl of Lonsdale.

This, be it observed, was during the period of most violent political opposition to the American war; which, it may be supposed, Mr Pitt regarded with hereditary aversion, and reprobed as one of the most disgraceful and ruinous contests in which the country could have engaged. He was also ardently attached to the cause of political reform, particularly in the representation of the people; which he conceived to be the best safeguard of constitutional liberty, and the only security against the recurrence of such wars as that which he so much deplored and condemned. On the 26th of February 1781, Mr Pitt made his first speech in the British senate. At the commencement of the session Mr Burke had brought forward his bill for effecting great retrenchments in the civil list; and it was in reference to this measure that Mr Pitt made his debut in the House of Commons. The attention of the house was naturally fixed upon the son of the great Chatham; but in a few moments the regards of the audience were directed to him on his own account. Unembarrassed by the novelty of his position, and master alike of his feelings and his subject, he delivered himself with an ease and grace, a richness of expression, a closeness of argument, and a classical precision of language, which not only answered, but exceeded all the expectations that had been formed of him, and elicited great applause from both sides of the house. During the same and the subsequent session, he spoke several times, particularly in favour of parliamentary reform, of which, as we have just stated, he was a zealous advocate; and, from his talents as a public speaker, it soon became evident that he was destined to perform a prominent part upon the political stage.

But although, for the most part, he ostensibly went along with the party in opposition to Lord North, yet he had not formed any decided connection with them; and hence, when his lordship was driven from power, and a new administration formed, with the Marquis of Rockingham at its head, Mr Pitt's name was not included in the list. This cabinet, however, was of short endurance. Lord Rockingham died suddenly; and his death having occasioned a fatal difference as to the choice of a new head, the Earl of Shelburne, profiting by the circumstance, formed a junction with several members of the former cabinet, and having (in July 1782) been appointed first lord of the treasury, associated with himself Mr Pitt, who had just completed his twenty-third year, as chancellor of the exchequer. A general peace with America, and the powers in alliance with the Transatlantic republic, followed soon afterwards; but this having been made a ground of severe censure by a powerful opposition, a coalition was formed between Lord North and Mr Fox, and, in April 1783, the Shelburne administration was forced to give way to this extraordinary confederacy, which had in some measure dictated its own terms to the sovereign. During his continuance in office, Mr Pitt had found but little opportunity of distinguishing himself, except as an able defender of the measures of administration, and a vigorous assailant of the principles and conduct of his antagonists. But a circumstance soon occurred which constitutes an important era in his life, and not only proved the eventual cause of his return to office, but secured to him a degree of authority with the king, and of popularity with the nation, which has seldom fallen to the lot of any minister, and which he preserved with but little diminution till the close of his life.

The coalition ministry was, both in its formation and in its character, odious to the country at large. It was regarded as an unprincipled combination for purposes purely selfish; in its formation all the old landmarks and distinctions of party had been thrown down; and as its composition was such as to afford no hopes of future benefit to the nation, its proceedings were watched with the jealous vigilance of suspicion and hatred. Whilst matters were in this state, Mr Fox introduced his bill for regulating the affairs of India. The leading provision of this famous project was to vest the whole management of Indian affairs in seven commissioners named in the bill, and to be appointed by the ministry; or, in other words, to transfer the whole patronage of India from the Crown and the Company, to the administration for the time being. In vain was it represented that this measure would prove alike advantageous to the Company and the nation; that it would introduce responsibility where there was none, or next to none; and that it would serve to prevent abuses, which were described as equally flagrant and notorious. The public generally considered it as trenching too much upon the prerogative, as creating a mass of ministerial influence which would be irresistible, and as rendering the ministry too strong for the crown. In opposing it, therefore, Mr Pitt had rather to follow than to lead public opinion, to obey the impulse already given, than to endeavour to excite and stimulate opposition; and this he did with so much skill and ability, that although the bill passed the House of Commons, it was thrown out in the Lords. This defeat decided the fate of the coalition ministry. For although it were true, as the partisans of the ministers alleged, that the rejection of the bill had been caused by secret intrigue and undue influence, this made no difference in regard to public opinion, which was decidedly adverse to the measure; and hence the country was not disposed to find fault with the means by which the end desired had been obtained. The ministry therefore resigned, and in the new arrangement Mr Pitt was made first lord of the treasury and chancellor of the exchequer.

Having thus become prime minister at the early age of twenty-four, Mr Pitt's appearance in that high and difficult station was greatly applauded by his friends, and at the same time ridiculed by his opponents, who represented it as the arrogant assumption of a stripling, indebted to accident or intrigue for a position from which he would be driven in a few months, perhaps even sooner. And at first it seemed by no means improbable that this prognostication would be fulfilled. In the House of Commons, the adherents of the coalition ministry were still so numerous, that, when Mr Pitt introduced his bill for the regulation of Indian affairs, it was rejected by a majority of eight (222 to 214); and in this state matters remained for some months. In the mean time several meetings were held by the leading men of both parties, and various projects of accommodation discussed; but Mr Pitt's previous resignation being demanded as a conditio sine qua non, all these attempts failed. Resolved to stand by the sovereign who confided in, and the people who supported him, Mr Pitt now took a step, the very boldness of which, perhaps, conduced to his success, we mean, dissolving parliament. This took place in March 1784, and was speedily followed by a general election, in which thirty coalitionists, including some of the leading men of the party, lost their seats; so that the minister was enabled to meet the new parliament with a decided majority, and an opposition more weakened in talent than in numbers. His India bill, which the last parliament had thrown out, was now re-introduced and passed; an addition was made to the window-tax, in order to supply the deficiency occasioned by a reduction of the principal duties upon tea; and various plans were proposed for the more effectual prevention of smuggling.

At this period, indeed, the grand object of Mr Pitt's ambition seems to have been, to acquire the reputation of an able and successful minister of finance. In 1786, he brought in and carried through a bill for establishing his famous sinking fund, upon a plan which, it seems, had been suggested to him by Dr Richard Price, and which, as modified in the bill, was long regarded by his friends and partisans as the ne plus ultra of financial skill and ingenuity. But all this ignorant admiration was at length dissipated by the masterly work of Dr Hamilton; and even Lord Grenville, the friend and colleague of Mr Pitt, found himself constrained to admit, in a pamphlet which he published on the subject, after his retirement from public life, that the whole scheme was bottomed upon delusion. In the year 1787, Mr Pitt concluded a commercial treaty with France; and amongst the subsequent measures in which he was personally concerned, may be mentioned his accession to the impeachment of Warren Hastings, his opposing the repeal of the corporation and test acts, his interference in behalf of the stadtholder, the affair of Oczakow, and the dispute with Spain respecting the fur-trade at Nootka Sound, several of which were extremely unpopular.

But the most important epoch of Mr Pitt's political life was now approaching. His reforming and patriotic zeal had already been sensibly cooled. Instead of seeking to strengthen himself in the affections of the people, he began to think only of establishing himself firmly in the favour of the court; and, whilst pursuing this object, a circumstance occurred which raised him to the summit of power, and enabled him, as prime minister, to exercise every function of his office without check or control. This was the illness of the king, which took place in the autumn of 1788, and incapacitated his majesty for the exercise of the royal functions. Parliament had been prorogued to the 20th of November; and as the sovereign, by whom alone it could be further prorogued, was not in a condition to exercise his prerogative, it became necessary that it should meet upon that day. A question of great nicety and delicacy now arose; namely, in whom the office of regent was to be vested. The Prince of Wales being then connected with the party in opposition, Mr Fox strenuously contended that the regency devolved upon him as a matter of course, without restriction or limitation; whilst Mr Pitt, on the other hand, maintained that it belonged to the two remaining branches of the legislature to fill up the office as they should judge proper, and impose such restrictions as they might deem necessary; at the same time admitting that, under actual circumstances, no other person than the prince could be thought of for the regency, thus limited by the two houses of parliament. The view of the prime minister prevailed, and a bill was in consequence passed, greatly restricting the power of the regent. But its provisions were soon rendered inoperative, by the convalescence of his majesty in the beginning of 1789. It is certain, however, that, upon recovering the use of his reason, the king greatly approved of the course which Mr Pitt had pursued; and the latter was in consequence established in power more firmly than ever. We may add, that on the recurrence of a similar visitation, with still more melancholy circumstances, the precedent of 1788-1789 served as a guide to the minister of the day, Mr Percival, and the Prince of Wales became regent, subject to restrictions analogous to those which had formerly been imposed by Mr Pitt.

The next great epoch in Mr Pitt's political life, and which, beyond all the preceding portions of his conduct, will determine his character as a statesman with posterity, was the French Revolution; taken in connection with the policy which the government of this country, under the sole guidance of Mr Pitt, pursued in reference to that mighty convulsion, and the astounding events to which it gave birth. But as Mr Pitt, considered individually, cannot be separated from the history of the long and sanguinary war with France, in which, principally through his means, the country became involved; and as the most ample details, both of the policy of this country, and the strange vicissitudes of the contest, have already been given under the article BRITAIN, it is only necessary to refer the reader to that head for the fullest information on these points, as well as respecting the most important domestic events of Mr Pitt's long administration, the rebellion in Ireland, and the subsequent union of that country with Great Britain. Suffice it to say, that having held the reins of government for eighteen years, Mr Pitt, and all the members of his cabinet, retired from office in 1801. The French armies had been victorious all over the continent; Prussia had, at an early period, prudently withdrawn from the contest; Austria had been completely humbled; and a successful soldier, under the denomination of First Consul, had assumed the reins of government in France. All Mr Pitt's plans for humbling that country, and, as it were, rolling back the Revolution, had most signal success; the cry for peace was now become general; and a breathing-time, at least, had become indispensably necessary. But it was left to Mr Addington to make the experiment, and, under his auspices, the treaty of Amiens was concluded with the French government.

But, as every reflecting person had foreseen, this armistice (for it was nothing more) proved of short duration. The war broke out again in the year 1803; and Mr Pitt, having gradually withdrawn his support from the Addington administration, it fell to pieces from its own inherent fragility. In 1804, Mr Pitt, having resumed the reins of government, exerted all his ability to give a successful turn to the contest, and organized a new coalition against France. But the thunder-stroke of Austerlitz blasted all his hopes, again placed Austria at the feet of the conqueror, and left Prussia exposed to that vengeance which soon afterwards descended upon her, as a just retribution for her treachery. The prime minister was at this time in a state of health ill calculated to bear up under such a blow. A gouty habit, the predisposing causes of which appear to have been hereditary, and a too liberal use of wine as part of his ordinary regimen, undermined a constitution which had never been very robust; and these, added to the cares and anxieties of office, at a period of so great excitement, brought on a premature exhaustion of the vital powers. In December 1805 he went to Bath; but the change afforded him no permanent relief. On the 11th of January 1806, he returned to his seat at Putney, much debilitated, and there lingered on till the 23rd of the same month, when he expired, in the forty-seventh year of his age. A public funeral was decreed to him by parliament, and forty thousand pounds were voted to discharge those debts which he was said to have incurred in the service of the state.

Though Mr Pitt possessed no particular advantages of person or of physiognomy, yet as a speaker he was considered by many as of surpassing eminence. Happy in the choice of his words, judicious in the arrangement of his subject, and gifted with a natural flow of eloquence, his wonderful powers were acknowledged even by those who dissented from his doctrines, and remained unmoved by his arguments. When employed in a good cause, he was irresistible; in defending a bad one, he could dazzle the judgment, mislead the imagination, and seduce the heart, even when he could not overcome the understanding. In statement or exposition he was clear, perspicuous, and singularly adroit, not to say artful; in sarcasm and invective he was tremendous. But although ambition and the love of power were his ruling passions, his mind was elevated above the meanness of avarice; his personal integrity remained unimpeached; and though he died involved in debts, these are to be ascribed to negligence, and the demands of his public station, rather than to extravagance, or any fondness for splendour and parade. Though his manner, in his public deportment, was distant and reserved, nay, to say haughty, yet few men were ever more successful in fixing the attachment of their private and personal friends. By all those who shared his intimacy he seems to have been esteemed and beloved. "They saw the all-powerful energies of his character," says Mr Rose, "softened into the most perfect complacency and sweetness of disposition in the circles of private life, the pleasures of which no one more cheerfully enjoyed, or more agreeably promoted, when the paramount duties which he conceived himself to owe to the public admitted of his mixing in them. That indignant severity with which he met and subdued what he considered unfounded opposition, that keenness of sarcasm with which he expelled and withered, as it might be said, the powers of most of his assailants in debate, were exchanged, in the society of his intimate friends, for a kindness of heart, a gentleness of demeanour, and a playfulness of good humour, which no one ever witnessed without interest, or participated without delight." Mr Wilberforce, who knew him intimately, entertained the same opinion of his social qualities, when he moved in the circle of his particular friends. "Though less formed for general popularity than Fox," says he, "Pitt, when free from shyness, and amongst his intimate companions, was the very soul of merriment and conversation. He was the wittiest man I ever knew, and, what was quite peculiar to himself, he had at all times his wit under entire control. Others appeared struck by the unwonted association of brilliant images; but every possible combination of ideas seemed always present to his mind, and he could at once produce whatever he desired. I was one of those who met to spend an evening in memory of Shakspeare, at the Boar's Head, East Cheape. Many professed wits were present, but Pitt was the most amusing of the party, and the readiest and most apt in the required allusions."

This, it will be observed, applies to an early period of his career, when his faculties were in all the freshness and vigour of youth. But from other accounts we learn, that amidst all the anxieties and disappointments of his public life, he retained to the last the reputation of being a most amiable companion in the circle of his private friends. The Marquis of Wellesley's character of him, which we subjoin, is perhaps a little overdrawn, and has something of a controversial character about it, having been written in refutation of certain statements of Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, who, amongst other things, had said that "Pitt's manners were stiff, retired, and without unction or grace;" but, making every allowance for the partialities of friendship, considerable weight must be given to the deliberate estimate of one who, himself a great statesman, an elegant scholar, and an accomplished man, enjoyed the best opportunities of appreciating the character and attainments of his friend.

"In attempting to convey to you my recollection of Mr Pitt's character in private society," says his lordship, "I cannot separate those qualities which raised him to the highest public eminence from those which rendered him a most amiable companion. Both proceeded from the same origin, and both were happily blended in the noble structure of his temper and disposition.

"Mr Pitt's mind was naturally inaccessible to any approach of dark, or low, or ignoble passion. His commanding genius and magnanimous spirit were destined to move in a region far above the reach of those jealousies, and suspicions, and animosities, which disturb the course of ordinary life. Under the eye of his illustrious father he had received that complete and generous education which fits a man to perform justly, skilfully, and magnanimously,

Life of Wilberforce, vol. ii. p. 18. all the offices, both private and public, of peace and war. Such an education, acting on such a natural disposition, not only qualified him to adorn the most elevated stations in the councils of his country, but furnished him with abundant resources to sustain the tranquillity and cheerfulness of his mind.

He had received regular and systematic instruction in the principles of the Christian religion, and in the doctrine and discipline of the Church of England, and in every branch of general ecclesiastical history. His knowledge in those subjects was accurate and extensive. He was completely armed against all sceptical assaults, as well as against all fanatical illusion; and, in truth, he was not merely a faithful and dutiful, but a learned member of our established church; to which he was most sincerely attached, with the most charitable indulgence for all dissenting sects. No doubt can exist in any rational mind that this early and firm settlement of his religious opinions and principles was a main cause of that cheerful equanimity which formed the great characteristic of his social intercourse, and which was never affected by adversities nor troubles.

He was perfectly accomplished in classical literature, both Latin and Greek. The accuracy and strength of his memory surpassed every example which I have observed; but the intrinsic vigour of his understanding carried him far beyond the mere recollection of the great models of antiquity in oratory, poetry, history, and philosophy; he had drawn their essence into his own thoughts and language; and, with astonishing facility, he applied the whole spirit of ancient learning to his daily use.

Those studies were his constant delight and resort; at Holwood, in Kent (his favourite residence), and at Walmer Castle, his apartments were strewed with Latin and Greek classics; and his conversation with those friends who delighted in similar studies frequently turned on that most attractive branch of literature; but he was so adverse to pedantry or affectation of superior knowledge, that he carefully abstained from such topics in the presence of those who could not take pleasure in them. In these pursuits his constant and congenial companion was Lord Grenville, who has often declared to me that Mr Pitt was the best Greek scholar he ever conversed with. Mr Pitt was also as complete a master of all English literature as he was undoubtedly of the English language. I have dwelt on this branch of Mr Pitt's accomplishments because I know not any source from which more salutary assistance can be derived, to chase from the spirits those clouds and vapours which infest vacant minds, and, by self-weariness, render retirement melancholy and intolerable.

But Mr Pitt amply possessed every resource which could enliven retirement. No person had a more exquisite sense of the beauties of the country. He took the greatest delight in his residence at Holwood, which he enlarged and improved (it may be truly said) with his own hands. Often have I seen him working in his woods and gardens with his labourers for whole days together, undergoing considerable bodily fatigue, and with so much eagerness and assiduity, that you would suppose the cultivation of his villa to be the principal occupation of his life.

He was very fond of exercise on horseback, and when in the country frequently joined the hounds of his neighbourhood, both at Holwood and Walmer Castle.

At the latter place he lived most hospitably, entertaining all his neighbours, as well as the officers of the neighbouring garrisons, and of the ships in the Downs; and he was most attentive to his duties of lord warden of the cinque ports, which called him frequently to Dover, and sometimes to the other ports.

But in all places, and at all times, his constant delight was society. There he shone with a degree of calm and steady lustre which often astonished me more than his most splendid efforts in parliament. His manners were perfectly plain, without any affectation; not only was he without presumption or arrogance, or any air of authority, but he seemed utterly unconscious of his own superiority, and much more disposed to listen than to talk. He never betrayed any symptom of anxiety to usurp the lead or to display his own powers, but rather inclined to draw forth others, and to take merely an equal share in the general conversation: then he plunged heedlessly into the mirth of the hour, with no more care than to promote the general good humour and happiness of the company. His wit was quick and ready, but it was rather lively than sharp, and never envenomed with the least taint of malignity; so that, instead of exciting admiration or terror, it was an additional ingredient in the common enjoyment. He was endowed, beyond any man of his time whom I knew, with a gay heart and a social spirit. With these qualities he was the life and soul of his own society. His appearance dispelled all care; his brow was never clouded, even in the severest public trials; and joy, and hope, and confidence beamed from his countenance in every crisis of difficulty and danger.

He was a most affectionate, indulgent, and benevolent friend, and so easy of access, that all his acquaintance, in any embarrassment, would rather resort to him for advice than to any person who might be supposed to have more leisure. His heart was always at leisure to receive the communications of his friends, and always open to give the best advice in the most gentle and pleasant manner.

It is a melancholy but a grateful task to pay this tribute to the memory of my departed friend. 'Aut me amor negotii suscepti fallit,' or the character which I have endeavoured to draw is not less just and true than it is amiable and excellent; and I cannot resist the conclusion, that a pure and clear conscience must have been the original source of such uniform cheerfulness and gaiety of spirit. The truth which I have asserted I possessed ample means of knowing. From the year 1783 to 1797 I lived in habits of the most confidential friendship with Mr Pitt.

In the year 1797 I was appointed governor-general of India, and in the month of September in that year I went to Walmer Castle to meet Mr Pitt and Mr Dundas, and to receive my last instructions. I found Mr Pitt in the highest spirits, entertaining officers and country gentlemen with his usual hospitality. Amongst others, Admiral Duncan was his constant and favourite guest. His fleet was then in the Downs, preparing for the memorable victory of Camperdown. The admiral was a lively and jovial companion, and seemed to be quite delighted with Mr Pitt's society. I embarked for India early in the month of November 1797, and I returned to England in January 1806.

Not wishing to state anything beyond my own personal knowledge, I will not attempt to relate the history of Mr Pitt's social habits during the period of my absence; but I cannot believe that, during that time, the whole frame of his magnificent mind had been so broken and disjointed, that he could not endure the temporary loss of power, nor reconcile himself to that retirement, and to those recreations, which were his relief from the labour of official business, and his consolation in the hour of political solicitude and care. But I know that the first summer after his resignation was passed with Mr Addington at Wimbledon, and that soon afterwards Mr Pitt was closely occupied at Walmer Castle in forming a corps of volunteer cavalry, living with his officers, and passing the greater part of his time on horseback, under the firm expectation of a French invasion. This does not well agree with the story which represents him wrapped in sullen seclusion, sunk in despondency, shunning all society, and yet unable to relieve the gloom of solitude by any mental resource.

"On my arrival in England in January 1806, Mr Pitt was at Bath; I wrote to him, and I received from him a very kind invitation to meet him at Putney Hill. I met him accordingly, in the second week in January, and I was received by him with his usual kindness and good humour. His spirits appeared to be as high as I had ever seen them, and his understanding quite as vigorous and clear.

"Amongst other topics, he told me, with great kindness and feeling, that, since he had seen me, he had been happy to become acquainted with my brother Arthur, of whom he spoke in the warmest terms of commendation. He said, 'I never met any military officer with whom it was so satisfactory to converse. He states every difficulty before he undertakes any service, but none after he has undertaken it.'

"But notwithstanding Mr Pitt's kindness and cheerfulness, I saw that the hand of death was fixed upon him. This melancholy truth was not known nor believed by either his friends or opponents. In the number of the latter, to my deep affliction, I found my highly respected and esteemed friend Lord Grenville, and I collected that measures of the utmost hostility to Mr Pitt were to be proposed in both houses at the meeting of parliament. I warned Lord Grenville of Mr Pitt's approaching death. He received the fatal intelligence with the utmost feeling, in an agony of tears, and immediately determined that all hostility in parliament should be suspended. Mr Pitt's death soon followed."

In a character of Lord Chatham, lately published, and which is generally ascribed to Lord Brougham, that great orator and powerful writer thus contrasts the elder and younger Pitt as public men and ministers:

"The true test of a great man,—that at least which must determine his place among the highest order of great men,—is his having been in advance of his age. This it is which decides whether or not he has carried forward the grand plan of human improvement, has conformed his views, and adapted his conduct, to the existing circumstances of society; or changed those so as to better its condition; has been one of the lights of the world, or only reflected the borrowed rays of former luminaries, and sat in the same shade at the same twilight or the same dawn with the rest of his generation. Tried by this test, the younger Pitt cannot certainly be said to have lived before his time, or shed upon the age to which he belonged the illumination of a more advanced civilization and more inspired philosophy. He came far too early into public life, and was too suddenly plunged into the pool of office, to give him time for the study and the reflection which can alone open to any mind, how vigorous soever be its natural constitution, the views of a deep and original wisdom. Accordingly, it would be difficult to glean, from all his measures and all his speeches, any thing like the fruits of inventive genius; or to mark any token of his mind having gone before the very ordinary routine of the day, as if familiar with any ideas that did not pass through the most vulgar understandings. His father's intellect was of a higher order."

Lord Brougham's opinion of the oratory of the younger Pitt is recorded in the conclusion of the following passage:

"Some have compared Mr Fox's eloquence to that of Demosthenes; but it resembled Lord Chatham's just as much, if not more. It was incomparably more argumentative than either the Greek or the English orator's, neither of whom carried on chains of close reasoning as he did, though both kept close to their subject. It was, however, exceedingly the reverse of the Attic oration, either in method, in diction, or in conciseness. It had nothing like arrangement of any kind. Except in the more vehement passages, its diction was perhaps as slovenly, certainly as careless, as possible,—betokening indeed a contempt of all accurate composition. It was diffuse in the highest degree, and abounded in repetitions. While the Greek was concise, almost to being jejune, the Englishman was diffuse, almost to being prolix. How the notion of comparing the two together ever could have prevailed, seems unaccountable, unless it be that men have supposed them alike because they were both vehement, and both kept the subject in view rather than run after ornament. But that the most elaborate and artificial compositions in the world should have been likened to the most careless, and natural, and unprepared that ever were delivered in public, would seem wholly incredible if it were not true. The bursts of Mr Fox, however, though less tersely and concisely composed, certainly have some resemblance to Lord Chatham's,—only that they betray far less fancy,—and, however vehement and fiery, are incomparably less bold. Mr Pitt's oratory, though admirably suited to its purpose, and as perfect a business kind of speaking as ever was heard, certainly resembled none of the three others who have been named. In point of genius, unless perhaps for sarcasm, he was greatly their inferior; although, from the unbroken fluency of his appropriate language, and the power of a most sonorous voice, he produced the most prodigious effect."

PITTS ISLAND, a small mountainous island in the South Pacific Ocean, covered with wood. Long. 193.14. E. Lat. 11.50. S.

PITT'S STRAITS, in the Eastern Seas, separate the islands of Salwatty and Battanta, at the western extremity of Papua or New Guinea, and extend from west-south-west to east-south-east about thirty miles, being about six in average breadth. No bottom is found in the middle with seventy-five fathoms of line.