when he commenced his administration of sixteen or seventeen years
during times the most stormy and dangerous almost ever experienced
by this country, it may be no improper occasion for describing his
character, and specifying the leading talents, dispositions, and
qualifications by which he was distinguished. But before I proceed to
this delineation it may be right to mention that seldom has any man had
a better opportunity of knowing another than I have possessed of being
thoroughly acquainted with Mr. Pitt. For weeks and months together I
have spent hours with him every morning while he was transacting his
common business with his secretaries. Hundreds of times, probably,
I have called him out of bed, and have, in short, seen him in every
situation and in his most unreserved moments. As he knew I should not
ask anything of him, and as he reposed so much confidence in me as to
be persuaded that I should never use any information I might obtain
from him for any unfair purpose, he talked freely before me of men and
things, of actual, meditated, or questionable appointments and plans,
projects, speculations, &c., &c. No man, it has been said, is a hero to
his _valet de chambre_, and if, with all the opportunities I enjoyed
of seeing Mr. Pitt in his most inartificial and unguarded moments, he
nevertheless appeared to me to be a man of extraordinary intellectual
and moral powers, it is due to him that it should be known that this
opinion was formed by one in whose instance Mr. Pitt's character was
subjected to its most severe test, which Rochefoucault appeared to
think could be stood by no human hero.
Mr. Pitt's intellectual powers were of the highest order, and in
private no less than in public, when he was explaining his sentiments
in any complicated question and stating the arguments on both sides,
it was impossible not to admire the clearness of his conceptions, the
precision with which he contemplated every particular object, and a
variety of objects, without confusion. They who have had occasion
to discuss political questions with him in private will acknowledge
that there never was a fairer reasoner, never anyone more promptly
recognising, and allowing its full weight to every consideration and
argument which was urged against the opinion he had embraced. You
always saw _where_ you differed from him and _why_. The difference
arose commonly from his sanguine temper leading him to give credit to
information which others might distrust, and to expect that doubtful
contingencies would have a more favourable issue than others might
venture to anticipate. I never met with any man who combined in an
equal degree this extraordinary precision of understanding with the
same intuitive apprehension of every shade of opinion, or of feeling,
which might be indicated by those with whom he was conversant. In
taking an estimate of Mr. Pitt's intellectual powers, his extraordinary
memory ought to be specially noticed. It was indeed remarkable for
two excellencies which are seldom found united in the same person--a
facility of receiving impressions, and a firmness and precision in
retaining them. His great rival, Mr. Fox, was also endowed with a
memory which to myself used to appear perfectly wonderful. Often in
the earlier part of my Parliamentary life I have heard him (Fox) at a
very late hour speak, without having taken any notes, for two or three
hours, noticing every material argument that had been urged by every
speaker of the opposite party: this he commonly did in the order in
which those arguments had been delivered, whereas it was rather Mr.
Pitt's habit to form the plan of a speech in his mind while the debate
was going forward, and to distribute his comments on the various
statements and remarks of his opponents according to the arrangement
which he had made. Such was his (Pitt's) recollection of the great
classical authors of antiquity that scarcely a passage could be
quoted of their works, whether in verse or prose, with which he was
not so familiar as to be able to take up the clue and go on with what
immediately followed. This was particularly the case in the works of
Virgil, Horace, and Cicero, and I am assured that he was also scarcely
less familiar with Homer and Thucydides.
He had considerable powers of imagination and much ready wit, but this
quality appeared more to arise from every idea, and every expression
that belonged to it, being at once present to his mind, so as to enable
him at will to make such combinations as suited the purpose of the
moment, than as if his mind was only conscious at the time of that
particular coruscation which the collision of objects caused to flash
before the mental eye. It arose out of this distinctive peculiarity
that he was not carried away by his own wit, though he could at any
time command its exercise, and no man, perhaps, at proper seasons
ever indulged more freely or happily in that playful facetiousness
which gratifies all without wounding any. He had great natural courage
and fortitude, and though always of a disordered stomach and gouty
tendencies (on account of which port wine had been recommended to him
in his earliest youth, and drinking French wine for a day or two would
at any time produce gouty pains in the extremities), yet his bodily
temperament never produced the smallest appearance of mental weakness
or sinking. I think it was from this source, combined with that of his
naturally sanguine temper, that though manifestly showing how deeply he
felt on public affairs, he never was harassed or distressed by them,
and till his last illness, when his bodily powers were almost utterly
exhausted, his inward emotions never appeared to cloud his spirits, or
affect his temper. Always he was ready in the little intervals of a
busy man to indulge in those sallies of wit and good humour which were
naturally called forth.
Excepting only the cases of those who have had reason to apprehend the
loss of life or liberty, never was a public man in circumstances more
harassing than those of Mr. Pitt in 1784: for several weeks the fate
of his administration and that of his opponents were trembling on the
beam, sometimes one scale preponderating, sometimes the other; almost
daily it appeared doubtful whether he was to continue Prime Minister
or retire into private life. Yet though then not five-and-twenty I do
not believe that the anxiety of his situation ever kept him awake for
a single minute, or ever appeared to sadden or cast a gloom over his
hours of relaxation.
It cannot perhaps be affirmed that he was altogether free from
pride, but great natural shyness,[18] and even awkwardness (French
_gaucherie_), often produced effects for which pride was falsely
charged on him; and really that confidence which might be justly
placed in his own powers by a man who could not but be conscious of
their superiority might sometimes appear like pride, though not fairly
deserving that appellation; and this should be the rather conceded,
because from most of the acknowledged effects of pride upon the
character he was eminently free. No man, as I have already remarked,
ever listened more attentively to what was stated against his own
opinions; no man appeared to feel more for others when in distress; no
man was ever more kind and indulgent to his inferiors and dependents
of every class, and never were there any of those little acts of
superciliousness, or indifference to the feelings and comforts of
others, by which secret pride is sometimes betrayed. But if Mr. Pitt
was not wholly free from pride, it may truly be affirmed that no man
was perhaps ever more devoid of vanity in all its forms. One particular
more in Mr. Pitt's character, scarcely ever found in a proud man, was
the extraordinary good humour and candour with which he explained and
discussed any plan or measure, of which he had formed the outline
in his mind, with those professional men who were necessarily to be
employed in giving it a Parliamentary form and language. I do not
believe that there is a single professional man or the head of any
board who ever did business with him, who would not acknowledge that
he was on such occasions the most easy and accommodable man with whom
they ever carried on official intercourse. One instance of this kind
shall be mentioned as a specimen of the others. He had formed a plan of
importance (I think in some Revenue matter) on which it was necessary
for him to consult with the Attorney-General of the day, I believe
Chief Baron Macdonald; Mr. Pitt had been for some time ruminating
on the measure, his mind had been occupied for perhaps a month in
moulding it into form and in devising expedients for its more complete
execution. It may here be not out of place to mention as a peculiarity
of his character that he was habitually apt to have almost his whole
thoughts and attention and time occupied with the particular object
or plan which he was then devising and wishing to introduce into
practice. He was as usual full of his scheme, and detailed it to his
professional friend with the warmth and ability natural to him on such
occasions. But the Attorney-General soon became convinced that there
were legal objections to the measure, which must be decisive against
its adoption. These therefore he explained to Mr. Pitt, who immediately
gave up his plan with the most unruffled good-humour, without
attempting to hang by it, or to devise methods of propping it up, but,
casting it at once aside, he pursued his other business as cheerfully
and pleasantly as usual.
But there are many who with undisturbed composure and with a good grace
can on _important_ occasions thus change their line of conduct and
assume a course contrary to that which they would have preferred. It
is, however, far more rare to find men who on little occasions, which
are not of sufficient moment to call a man's dignity into action, and
which are not under the public eye, can bear to have their opinions
opposed and their plans set aside, without manifesting some irritation
or momentary fretfulness. But on the lesser scale as well as on the
greater Mr. Pitt's good-humour was preserved. This same disposition of
mind was attended with the most important advantages, and in truth was
one which eminently qualified him to be the Minister of a free country.
If towards the latter end of his life his temper was not so entirely
free from those occasional approaches to fretfulness which continued
disease and the necessity of struggling against it too often produce,
it ought to be taken into account that another powerful cause
besides human infirmity might have tended to lessen that kindness
and good-humour for which he was for the greater part of his life
so remarkable. The deference that was paid to him was justly great,
but though no man less than himself exacted anything like servility
from his companions, it is impossible to deny that there were those
who attempted to cultivate his favour by this species of adulation.
Another particular in Mr. Pitt, seldom connected with pride, was the
kind interest he took in the rising talents of every young public man
of any promise whose politics were congenial with his own; as well as
the justice which he did to the powers of his opponents--a quality
which it is but fair to say was no less apparent in Mr. Fox also. If he
sometimes appeared to be desirous of letting a debate come to a close
without hearing some friends who wished to take a part in it, this
arose in some degree in his wishing to get away, from his being tired
out with Parliamentary speaking and hearing, or from thinking that the
debate would close more advantageously at the point at which he stopped.
In society he was remarkably cheerful and pleasant, full of wit and
playfulness, neither, like Mr. Fox, fond of arguing a question, nor yet
holding forth, like some others.[19] He was always ready to hear others
as well as to talk himself. In very early life he now and then engaged
in games of chance, and the vehemence with which he was animated was
certainly very great; but finding that he was too much interested by
them, all at once he entirely and for life desisted from gambling.
His regard for truth was greater than I ever saw in any man who was
not strongly under the influence of a powerful principle of religion:
he appeared to adhere to it out of respect to himself, from a certain
moral purity which appeared to be a part of his nature. A little
incident may afford an example of his delicacy in this respect. A
common friend of ours, a member of the House of Lords, was reflected
upon with considerable acrimony in the House of Commons by one of Mr.
Pitt's political opponents. Being with him, as often happened, the next
morning, while he was at breakfast, I told him that the animadversions
which had been made on our friend the night before were stated in
the newspaper, and I expressed some surprise that he himself had not
contradicted the fact which was the ground of the reprehension. "This,"
said he, "I might have done, but you will remember that it was a
circumstance in which, if I deviated from strict truth, no other man
could know of it, and in such a case it is peculiarly requisite to keep
within the strictest limits of veracity."
The remark I am about to make may deserve the more attention on account
of its general application, and because it may probably tend to
illustrate other characters. It may, I believe, be truly affirmed that
the imputations which were sometimes thrown out against Mr. Pitt, that
he was wanting in simplicity and frankness, and the answers he made to
questions put to him concerning his future conduct, or the principles
which were regulating the course of measures he pursued, were in truth
a direct consequence of that very strictness and veracity for which
he was so remarkable. When men are not very scrupulous as to truth,
they naturally deal in broad assertions, especially in cases in which
their feelings are at all warmly engaged; but it seldom happens that
a political man can thus assume a principle and apply it to all the
cases, which, in the use he is about to make of it, it may be supposed
to comprehend, without some qualifications and distinctions; and a man
of strict veracity therefore makes a conditional declaration or gives
a qualified assurance. The same remark applies to the judgments we
may express of the character and conduct of public men. In order to
be strictly correct we cannot always use broad and strong colouring,
but there must be shades and gradations in our draught. Yet such is
the natural and even commendable love which men generally have of
truth and honesty, that we feel an instinctive preference of simple
and strong affirmations or negations as indicating more blunt and
straightforward principles and dispositions, than where men express
themselves in measured and qualified and conditional propositions. No
man, I believe, ever loved his country with a warmer or more sincere
affection; it was highly gratifying to converse familiarly with him
on the plans he was forming for the public good; or to witness the
pleasure he experienced from indulging speculations of the benefits
which his country might derive from the realising of such or such a
hope.
But notwithstanding all my admiration of Mr. Pitt's extraordinary
powers, and still more, with the deepest and most assured conviction
of his public spirit and patriotism, I cannot but think that even his
uncommon excellencies were not without some alloy of human infirmity.
In particular he appeared to me to be defective in his knowledge of
human nature, or that from some cause or other he was less sagacious
than might have been expected from his superior talents, in his
estimate of future events, and sometimes in his judgment of character.
This might probably arise in part from his naturally sanguine temper,
which in estimating future contingencies might lead him to assign
too little weight to those probabilities which were opposed to his
ultimate conclusion. But if I must be honest in delineating Mr. Pitt's
character and qualities, I must also confess that in considering their
practical influence on the fortunes of his country, I have sometimes
been almost ready to believe that powers far inferior to his, under
the direction of a mind equally sincere and equally warm in its zeal
for the public good, might have been the instrument of conferring far
greater benefits on his country. His great qualities, under the impulse
and guidance of true religion, would probably have been the means of
obtaining for his country much greater temporal blessings, together
with others of a far higher order, and more durable effects. The
circumstances of the period at which he first came into the situation
of Prime Minister were such as almost to invest him with absolute
power. All his faculties then possessed the bloom of youthful beauty
as well as the full vigour of maturer age: his mind was ardent, his
principles were pure, his patriotism warm, his mind as yet altogether
unsullied by habitually associating with men of worldly ways of
thinking and acting, in short, with a class which may be not unfitly
termed trading politicians; this is a class with which perhaps no
one, however originally pure, can habitually associate, especially in
the hours of friendly intercourse and of social recreation, without
contracting insensibly more or less defilement. No one who had not
been an eye-witness could conceive the ascendency which Mr. Pitt then
possessed over the House of Commons, and if he had then generously
adopted the resolution to govern his country by _principle_ rather
than by _influence_, it was a resolution which he could then have
carried into execution with success, and the full effects of which,
both on the national character, interests, and happiness, it is
scarcely possible perhaps to estimate; but it would be a curious
and no unprofitable speculation to trace the probable effects which
would have resulted from the assumption of this high moral tone, in
the actual circumstances of this country, in reference both to our
internal interests and our foreign relations. This is a task I cannot
now undertake, but I may remind the reader that the principles were
then beginning to propagate themselves with the greatest success which
not long after exhibited their true nature and ruinous effects in the
French Revolution. Such a spirit of patriotism would have been kindled,
such a generous confidence in the King's government would have been
diffused throughout all classes, that the very idea of the danger of
our being infected with the principles of French licentiousness, which
might have produced among our people a general taint of disloyalty,
would have been an apprehension not to be admitted into the bosom of
the most timid politician; while the various reforms which would have
taken place, and the manifest independence of Parliament would have
generated and ensured in the minds of all reasonable men a continually
increasing gratitude and affection for the constitution and laws of our
country. On the other hand, the French, infatuated as they were, and
wicked as were the men who then possessed the chief influence in the
counsels of that country, could never have been so blind to their own
manifest interest, as to have engaged their people in a war with Great
Britain from any idea of our confederating with the Crowned Heads of
Europe to crush the rising spirit of liberty in France. Hence we should
have escaped that long and bloody war, which, however, in its ultimate
issue justly deserving the epithet of glorious, is nevertheless the
cause of all our present dangers and sufferings, from the insupportable
burdens with which it has loaded us. Nor is it only _Financial_ evils
of which our long protracted warfare has been the cause; to this
source also we must probably trace much of that _Moral_ evil, which
in so many different forms has been of late beginning to manifest
itself, especially among the lower orders of our people. The gracious
Providence of God has indeed abundantly answered the prayers of many
among us, who I trust have all along been looking up to the Giver of
all Good for their country's safety and prosperity; and while those
causes were in operation which were hereafter to manifest themselves
in various forms of social and domestic evil, it pleased God to
diffuse a spirit of an opposite kind, which began to display its love
of God and love of man by the formation of societies of a religious
and moral nature, which have already contributed in no small degree
to bless almost all nations, while they have invested our own country
with a moral glory never before enjoyed by any nation upon earth. The
diffusion of the Sacred Scriptures, the establishment of societies for
spreading throughout the world the blessings of religious light and
of moral improvement, the growing attention to the education of our
people, with societies and institutions for relieving every species
of suffering which vice and misery can ever produce among the human
race,--what would have been the effects of all this, if not obstructed
and counteracted in all the various ways by which war, that greatest
scourge of the human race, carries on its baleful and wide wasting
operations.[20]
Is it not a melancholy consideration that this very country, the
constitution and laws of which have been the objects of the highest
possible admiration of the wisest men, should be in such a state
that but too large a part of the great body of our people, instead of
looking up to Heaven with gratitude for being favoured with blessings
never before enjoyed by any nation, should be led by their sufferings
to regard that very constitution and those very laws with disgust and
aversion? Of this unhappy state of things the war, as having been
the cause of our financial distresses and difficulties, is in fact
the source. But there is nothing in which we are so apt to deceive
ourselves as in conceiving that we are capable of estimating the
full amount of moral good or evil; short-sighted as we are, there is
nothing in which our views are more manifestly narrow and contracted;
an important, nay, an awful consideration, which, while it may well
encourage to activity in all good, should make us tremble to admit
(the slightest speck) the smallest seed of moral evil to pollute our
country's soil. But I have been led to expatiate more than I intended
on this topic, though merely glancing at some of the most important
of the considerations which it presents to the view even of the most
superficial observer.
Returning to the consideration of the effect of true religion on the
character and conduct of the great man who has been the subject of this
inquiry, I am naturally led to remark that there can be no possible
occasion on which the application of the principle on which I have been
lately speaking would suggest wider scope for our reflection. But if
we consider the effect which true religion would have produced either
in himself or in others around him, how immense would appear the mass
of benefits, in the employment of his time, in the application of his
faculties, in the selection of his companions, perhaps, above all, in
his giving their just weight to religious and moral principles and
character in the exercise of his unlimited patronage, both in Church
and State; and considering that every religious and good man, who by
him should have been invested with power and influence, would _himself_
have selected others of similar principles and character, throughout
the descending series of official appointments, and through all the
variety of social occupations, who can say what would have been the
effect of these religious and moral secretions, if they may be so
termed, which throughout the whole political body would have been
gradually producing their blessed effects in augmenting its fulness,
symmetry, and strength?[21] And these effects, remember, would have
been of a merely public, still less of a merely political character.
They would have been, to say the least, full as manifest, and even more
fertile in the production of happiness in all the walks of private
life and all the varieties of social combination.