He saw that the great body of the House of Commons was divided into

three parties, his own, that of North, and that of Shelburne; that none

of those three parties was large enough to stand alone; that,

therefore, unless two of them united, there must be a miserably feeble

administration, or more probably, a rapid succession of miserably

feeble administrations, and this at a time when a strong government was

essential to the prosperity and respectability of the nation. It was

then necessary and right that there should be a coalition. To every

possible coalition there were objections. But, of all possible

coalitions, that to which there were the fewest objections was

undoubtedly a coalition between Shelburne and Fox. It would have been

generally applauded by the followers of both. It might have been

made without any sacrifice of public principle on the part of either.

Unhappily, recent bickerings had left in the mind of Fox a profound

dislike and distrust of Shelburne. Pitt attempted to mediate, and was

authorised to invite Fox to return to the service of the Crown. "Is Lord

Shelburne," said Fox, "to remain prime minister?" Pitt answered in the

affirmative. "It is impossible that I can act under him," said Fox.

"Then negotiation is at an end," said Pitt; "for I cannot betray him."

Thus the two statesmen parted. They were never again in a private room

together.

As Fox and his friends would not treat with Shelburne, nothing

remained to them but to treat with North. That fatal coalition which is

emphatically called "The Coalition" was formed. Not three quarters of

a year had elapsed since Fox and Burke had threatened North with

impeachment, and had described him, night after night, as the most

arbitrary, the most corrupt, the most incapable of ministers. They now

allied themselves with him for the purpose of driving from office a

statesman with whom they cannot be said to have differed as to any

important question. Nor had they even the prudence and the patience to

wait for some occasion on which they might, without inconsistency, have

combined with their old enemies in opposition to the government. That

nothing might be wanting to the scandal, the great orators, who had,

during seven years, thundered against the war, determined to join with

the authors of that war in passing a vote of censure on the peace.

The Parliament met before Christmas 1782. But it was not till January

1783 that the preliminary treaties were signed. On the 17th of February

they were taken into consideration by the House of Commons. There

had been, during some days, floating rumours that Fox and North had

coalesced; and the debate indicated but too clearly that those rumours

were not unfounded. Pit was suffering from indisposition: he did not

rise till his own strength and that of his hearers were exhausted; and

he was consequently less successful than on any former occasion. His

admirers owned that his speech was feeble and petulant. He so far forgot

himself as to advise Sheridan to confine himself to amusing theatrical

audiences. This ignoble sarcasm gave Sheridan an opportunity of

retorting with great felicity. "After what I have seen and heard

to-night," he said, "I really feel strongly tempted to venture on a

competition with so great an artist as Ben Jonson, and to bring on the

stage a second Angry Boy." On a division, the address proposed by the

supporters of the government was rejected by a majority of sixteen.

But Pitt was not a man to be disheartened by a single failure, or to

be put down by the most lively repartee. When a few days later, the

opposition proposed a resolution directly censuring the treaties, he

spoke with an eloquence, energy, and dignity which raised his fame

and popularity higher than ever. To the coalition of Fox and North

he alluded in language which drew forth tumultuous applause from his

followers. "If," he said, "this ill-omened and unnatural marriage be

not yet consummated, I know of a just and lawful impediment; and, in the

name of the public weal, I forbid the banns."

The ministers were again left in a minority; and Shelburne consequently

tendered his resignation. It was accepted; but the King struggled long

and hard before he submitted to the terms dictated by Fox, whose faults

he detested, and whose high spirit and powerful intellect he detested

still more. The first place at the board of Treasury was repeatedly

offered to Pitt; but the offer, though tempting, was steadfastly

declined. The young man, whose judgment was as precocious as his

eloquence, saw that his time was coming, but was not come, and was deaf

to royal importunities and reproaches. His Majesty, bitterly complaining

of Pitt's faintheartedness, tried to break the coalition. Every art of

seduction was practised on North, but in vain. During several weeks the

country remained without a government. It was not till all devices had

failed, and till the aspect of the House of Commons became threatening,

that the King gave way. The Duke of Portland was declared First Lord of

the Treasury. Thurlow was dismissed. Fox and North became Secretaries of

State, with power ostensibly equal. But Fox was the real prime minister.

The year was far advanced before the new arrangements were completed;

and nothing very important was done during the remainder of the session.

Pitt, now seated on the opposition bench, brought the question of

parliamentary reform a second time under the consideration of the

Commons. He proposed to add to the House at once a hundred county

members and several members for metropolitan districts, and to enact

that every borough of which an election committee should report that the

majority of voters appeared to be corrupt should lose the franchise. The

motion was rejected by 293 votes to 149.

After the prorogation, Pitt visited the Continent for the first and last

time. His travelling companion was one of his most intimate friends,

a young man of his own age, who had already distinguished himself in

Parliament by an engaging natural eloquence, set off by the sweetest

and most exquisitely modulated of human voices, and whose affectionate

heart, caressing manners, and brilliant wit, made him the most

delightful of companions, William Wilberforce. That was the time of

Anglomania in France; and at Paris the son of the great Chatham was

absolutely hunted by men of letters and women of fashion, and forced,

much against his will, into political disputation. One remarkable saying

which dropped from him during this tour has been preserved. A French

gentleman expressed some surprise at the immense influence which Fox, a

man of pleasure, ruined by the dice-box and the turf, exercised over the

English nation. "You have not," said Pitt, "been under the wand of the

magician."

In November 1783 the Parliament met again. The government had

irresistible strength in the House of Commons, and seemed to be scarcely

less strong in the House of Lords, but was, in truth, surrounded on

every side by dangers. The King was impatiently waiting for the moment

at which he could emancipate himself from a yoke which galled him so

severely that he had more than once seriously thought of retiring to

Hanover; and the King was scarcely more eager for a change than the

nation. Fox and North had committed a fatal error. They ought to have

known that coalitions between parties which have long been hostile can

succeed only when the wish for coalition pervades the lower ranks of

both. If the leaders unite before there is any disposition to union

among the followers, the probability is that there will be a mutiny in

both camps, and that the two revolted armies will make a truce with each

other, in order to be revenged on those by whom they think that they

have been betrayed. Thus it was in 1783. At the beginning of that

eventful year, North had been the recognised head of the old Tory party,

which, though for a moment prostrated by the disastrous issue of the

American war, was still a great power in the state. To him the clergy,

the universities, and that large body of country gentlemen whose

rallying cry was "Church and King," had long looked up with respect and

confidence. Fox had, on the other hand, been the idol of the Whigs,

and of the whole body of Protestant dissenters. The coalition at once

alienated the most zealous Tories from North, and the most zealous Whigs

from Fox. The University of Oxford, which had marked its approbation of

North's orthodoxy by electing him chancellor, the city of London, which

had been during two and twenty years at war with the Court, were equally

disgusted. Squires and rectors, who had inherited the principles of the

cavaliers of the preceding century, could not forgive their old leader

for combining with disloyal subjects in order to put a force on the

sovereign. The members of the Bill of Rights Society and of the Reform

Associations were enraged by learning that their favourite orator now

called the great champion of tyranny and corruption his noble friend.

Two great multitudes were at once left without any head, and both at

once turned their eyes on Pitt. One party saw in him the only man who

could rescue the King; the other saw in him the only man who could

purify the Parliament. He was supported on one side by Archbishop

Markham, the preacher of divine right, and by Jenkinson, the captain of

the Praetorian band of the King's friends; on the other side by Jebb and

Priestley, Sawbridge and Cartwright, Jack Wilkes and Horne Tooke. On the

benches of the House of Commons, however, the ranks of the ministerial

majority were unbroken; and that any statesman would venture to brave

such a majority was thought impossible. No prince of the Hanoverian

line had ever, under any provocation, ventured to appeal from the

representative body to the constituent body. The ministers, therefore,

notwithstanding the sullen looks and muttered words of displeasure with

which their suggestions were received in the closet, notwithstanding the

roar of obloquy which was rising louder and louder every day from every

corner of the island, thought themselves secure.

Such was their confidence in their strength that, as soon as the

Parliament had met, they brought forward a singularly bold and original

plan for the government of the British territories in India. What was

proposed was that the whole authority, which till that time had been

exercised over those territories by the East India Company, should be

transferred to seven Commissioners who were to be named by Parliament,

and were not to be removable at the pleasure of the Crown. Earl

Fitzwilliam, the most intimate personal friend of Fox, was to be

chairman of this board; and the eldest son of North was to be one of the

members.

As soon as the outlines of the scheme were known, all the hatred which

the coalition had excited burst forth with an astounding explosion. The

question which ought undoubtedly to have been considered as paramount to

every other was, whether the proposed change was likely to be beneficial

or injurious to the thirty millions of people who were subject to the

Company. But that question cannot be said to have been even seriously

discussed. Burke, who, whether right or wrong in the conclusions to

which he came, had at least the merit of looking at the subject in

the right point of view, vainly reminded his hearers of that mighty

population whose daily rice might depend on a vote of the British

Parliament. He spoke, with even more than his wonted power of thought

and language, about the desolation of Rohilcund, about the spoliation

of Benares, about the evil policy which had suffered the tanks of the

Carnatic to go to ruin; but he could scarcely obtain a hearing. The

contending parties, to their shame it must be said, would listen to none

but English topics. Out of doors the cry against the ministry was almost

universal. Town and country were united. Corporations exclaimed against

the violation of the charter of the greatest corporation in the realm.

Tories and democrats joined in pronouncing the proposed board an

unconstitutional body. It was to consist of Fox's nominees. The effect

of his bill was to give, not to the Crown, but to him personally,

whether in office or in opposition, an enormous power, a patronage

sufficient to counterbalance the patronage of the Treasury and of the

Admiralty, and to decide the elections for fifty boroughs. He knew,

it was said, that he was hateful alike to King and people; and he had

devised a plan which would make him independent of both. Some nicknamed

him Cromwell, and some Carlo Khan. Wilberforce, with his usual felicity

of expression, and with very unusual bitterness of feeling, described

the scheme as the genuine offspring of the coalition, as marked by the

features of both its parents, the corruption of one and the violence of

the other. In spite of all opposition, however, the bill was supported

in every stage by great majorities, was rapidly passed and was sent up

to the Lords. To the general astonishment, when the second reading was

moved in the Upper House, the opposition proposed an adjournment, and

carried it by eighty-seven votes to seventy-nine. The cause of this

strange turn of fortune was soon known. Pitt's cousin, Earl Temple, had

been in the royal closet, and had there been authorised to let it be

known that His Majesty would consider all who voted for the bill as his

enemies. The ignominious commission was performed; and instantly a troop

of Lords of the Bedchamber, of Bishops who wished to be translated, and

of Scotch peers who wished to be re-elected, made haste to change

sides. On a later day, the Lords rejected the bill. Fox and North were

immediately directed to send their seals to the palace by their Under

Secretaries; and Pitt was appointed First Lord of the Treasury and

Chancellor of the Exchequer.

The general opinion was, that there would be an immediate dissolution.

But Pitt wisely determined to give the public feeling time to gather

strength. On this point he differed from his kinsman Temple. The

consequence was, that Temple, who had been appointed one of the

Secretaries of State, resigned his office forty-eight hours after he had

accepted it, and thus relieved the new government from a great load of

unpopularity; for all men of sense and honour, however strong might be

their dislike of the India Bill, disapproved of the manner in which that

bill had been thrown out. Temple carried away with him the scandal which

the best friends of the new government could not but lament. The fame of

the young prime minister preserved its whiteness. He could declare with

perfect truth that, if unconstitutional machinations had been employed,

he had been no party to them.

He was, however, surrounded by difficulties and dangers. In the House of

Lords, indeed, he had a majority; nor could any orator of the opposition

in that assembly be considered as a match for Thurlow, who was now again

Chancellor, or for Camden, who cordially supported the son of his old

friend Chatham. But in the other House there was not a single eminent

speaker among the official men who sate round Pitt. His most useful

assistant was Dundas, who, though he had not eloquence, had sense,

knowledge, readiness, and boldness. On the opposite benches was a

powerful majority, led by Fox, who was supported by Burke, North, and

Sheridan. The heart of the young minister, stout as it was, almost died

within him. He could not once close his eyes on the night which followed

Temple's resignation. But, whatever his internal emotions might be, his

language and deportment indicated nothing but unconquerable firmness and

haughty confidence in his own powers. His contest against the House of

Commons lasted from the 17th of December 1783, to the 8th of March 1784.

In sixteen divisions the opposition triumphed. Again and again the King

was requested to dismiss his ministers. But he was determined to go to

Germany rather than yield. Pitt's resolution never wavered. The cry of

the nation in his favour became vehement and almost furious. Addresses

assuring him of public support came up daily from every part of the

kingdom. The freedom of the city of London was presented to him in a

gold box. He went in state to receive this mark of distinction. He was

sumptuously feasted in Grocers' Hall; and the shopkeepers of the Strand

and Fleet Street illuminated their houses in his honour. These things

could not but produce an effect within the walls of Parliament. The

ranks of the majority began to waver; a few passed over to the enemy;

some skulked away; many were for capitulating while it was still

possible to capitulate with the honours of war. Negotiations were opened

with the view of forming an administration on a wide basis; but they had

scarcely been opened when they were closed. The opposition demanded,

as a preliminary article of the treaty, that Pitt should resign the

Treasury; and with this demand Pit steadfastly refused to comply. While

the contest was raging, the Clerkship of the Pells, a sinecure place for

life, worth three thousand a year, and tenable with a seat in the House

of Commons, became vacant. The appointment was with the Chancellor of

the Exchequer: nobody doubted that he would appoint himself; and nobody

could have blamed him if he had done so: for such sinecure offices

had always been defended on the ground that they enabled a few men of

eminent abilities and small incomes to live without any profession, and

to devote themselves to the service of the state. Pitt, in spite of

the remonstrances of his friends, gave the Pells to his father's old

adherent, Colonel Barre, a man distinguished by talent and eloquence,

but poor and afflicted with blindness. By this arrangement a pension

which the Rockingham administration had granted to Barre was saved to

the public. Never was there a happier stroke of policy. About treaties,

wars, expeditions, tariffs, budgets, there will always be room for

dispute. The policy which is applauded by half the nation may be

condemned by the other half. But pecuniary disinterestedness everybody

comprehends. It is a great thing for a man who has only three hundred a

year to be able to show that he considers three thousand a year as mere

dirt beneath his feet, when compared with the public interest and

the public esteem. Pitt had his reward. No minister was ever more

rancorously libelled; but, even when he was known to be overwhelmed with

debt, when millions were passing through his hands, when the wealthiest

magnates of the realm were soliciting him for marquisates and garters,

his bitterest enemies did not dare to accuse him of touching unlawful

gain.

At length the hard fought fight ended. A final remonstrance, drawn up by

Burke with admirable skill, was carried on the 8th of March by a single

vote in a full House. Had the experiment been repeated, the supporters

of the coalition would probably have been in a minority. But the

supplies had been voted; the Mutiny Bill had been passed; and the

Parliament was dissolved.

The popular constituent bodies all over the country were in general

enthusiastic on the side of the new government. A hundred and sixty of

the supporters of the coalition lost their seats. The First Lord of the

Treasury himself came in at the head of the poll for the University

of Cambridge. His young friend, Wilberforce, was elected knight of

the great shire of York, in opposition to the whole influence of the

Fitzwilliams, Cavendishes, Dundases, and Saviles. In the midst of such

triumphs Pitt completed his twenty-fifth year. He was now the greatest

subject that England had seen during many generations. He domineered

absolutely over the cabinet, and was the favourite at once of the

Sovereign, of the Parliament, and of the nation. His father had never

been so powerful, nor Walpole, nor Marlborough.

This narrative has now reached a point, beyond which a full history of

the life of Pitt would be a history of England, or rather of the whole

civilised world; and for such a history this is not the proper place.

Here a very slight sketch must suffice; and in that sketch prominence

will be given to such points as may enable a reader who is already

acquainted with the general course of events to form a just notion of

the character of the man on whom so much depended.

If we wish to arrive at a correct judgment of Pitt's merits and defects,

we must never forget that he belonged to a peculiar class of statesmen,

and that he must be tried by a peculiar standard. It is not easy to

compare him fairly with such men as Ximenes and Sully, Richelieu and

Oxenstiern, John de Witt, and Warren Hastings. The means by which those

politicians governed great communities were of quite a different

kind from those which Pitt was under the necessity of employing. Some

talents, which they never had any opportunity of showing that they

possessed, were developed in him to an extraordinary degree. In some

qualities, on the other hand, to which they owe a large part of their

fame, he was decidedly their inferior. They transacted business in their

closets, or at boards where a few confidential councillors sate. It was

his lot to be born in an age and in a country in which parliamentary

government was completely established. His whole training from infancy

was such as fitted him to bear a part in parliamentary government;

and, from the prime of his manhood to his death, all the powers of

his vigorous mind were almost constantly exerted in the work of

parliamentary government. He accordingly became the greatest master

of the whole art of parliamentary government that has ever existed, a

greater than Montague or Walpole, a greater than his father Chatham,

or his rival Fox, a greater than either of his illustrious successors,

Canning and Peel.

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