Note 135 — HOGARTH ILLUSTRATED. (continued 3)

Hogarth seems to have thought that Mr. Pitt wished to be a perpetual dictator; and, in truth, the Secretary's own assertion in some degree justified the supposition: "He would not be responsible for measures which he was no longer allowed to guide." Whether the artist was right or wrong in his opinion, I do not presume to assert: I have endeavoured to describe characters as he has delineated them; but with respect to this great man, the safest way will be to quote his contemporaries. I have subjoined two portraits, drawn in his own day; let the reader adopt that which pleases him best. They prove how difficult it is to ascertain what were the abilities of a statesman from any accounts given during his life. One party assert that Mr. Pitt unites, with the eloquence of Cicero and the force of Demosthenes, the conciseness of Sallust and the polished periods of Isocrates! Another,—but to extract a part is not doing justice to the writers.

Chatham.

"As this lord has long been dead to the world, we shall speak of him as a man that has been.

"A remarkable reflection, arising from the character of Lord Chatham, strikes us: No statesman was ever more successful, and no statesman ever deserved less to have been so.

"This man entered into the army very early in life, and there he ought to have remained. His enterprise, his rashness, and his scrupulous sense of honour, were qualities extremely proper in the profession of arms, and would have adorned any military station, except that of a chief commander. But the field he renounced for the Cabinet, and ceased to be a good soldier that he might be a bad statesman. In nature, he was rash, impetuous, haughty, and uncontrollable; and these dangerous properties were neither tempered nor improved by education. To those advantages which are acquired by study, and those great views which are communicated by habits of reflection, he was entirely a stranger. His quickness was not corrected by judgment, and his mind frequently was tired of the objects presented to it before it could perceive or comprehend them. In a country where eloquence is little known, his noise and vociferation acquired that name; and without the experience of common sense, he was extolled as superior to Demosthenes or Tully. His speeches were not wanting in fire, but they were innocent of thought. He was perhaps the only man of his time who could harangue for many hours without communicating one distinct and well-digested idea to his audience. In estimating his own merit he knew no bounds. His vanity was excessive: he saw every man inferior to himself: on every man, therefore, he lavished his contempt. Capricious to the most boyish excess, he was perpetually forming resolutions, which he abandoned before he could put them in execution. Yet his instability, through a fortuitous and whimsical concurrence of circumstances, generally led the way to success. The happy blunders of his administration procured him a reputation to which he had no title. Every scheme he planned ought to have miscarried. We admire his good fortune, not his wisdom. Popularity was the idol to which he bowed—a certain proof that his conduct was not influenced by those superior ideas which arise in high, liberal, and virtuous minds. Yet to this idol he would have sacrificed everything: it would have sacrificed everything to him. He possessed that intemperate pride which, instead of guarding him from indecent errors, led him to indiscretions; and a respectable character was seldom a security from the licentious fury of his tongue. In private life he was restless, fretful, unsocial, and perpetually affecting complaints which he did not feel: in public life he was weak, headstrong, imprudent, and had no quality of a good minister but enterprise. If he had continued in his first profession, he might have served his country with honour; but his ambition prompted him to assume the character of a statesman, and he abused it.

"On the whole, he possessed virtues; but his passions hurried them into excess, and he did not even wish to restrain them."

Hear the other side:—

Character of the late Earl of Chatham.

"The Secretary stood alone; modern degeneracy had not reached him; original and unaccommodating—the features of his character had the hardihood of antiquity. No State chicanery, no narrow system of vicious politics, no idle contest for ministerial victories, sunk him to the vulgar level of the great; but overbearing and persuasive, his object was—England; his ambition—fame! Without dividing, he destroyed party; without corrupting, he made a venal age unanimous. France sunk beneath him. With one hand he smote the house of Bourbon, and wielded with the other the democracy of England. The sight of his mind was infinite; and his schemes were to affect, not England and the present age only, but Europe and posterity. Wonderful were the means by which these schemes were accomplished; always seasonable, always adequate, the suggestion of an understanding animated by ardour, and enlightened by prophecy. The ordinary feelings which make life amiable and indolent—those sensations which allure and vulgarize—were unknown to him. A character so exalted, so strenuous, so various, so authoritative, astonished a corrupt age, and the Treasury trembled at the name of Pitt through all her classes of venality. Corruption imagined, indeed, that she found defects in this statesman, and talked much of the inconsistency of his glory, and much of the ruin of his victories; but the history of his country and the calamity of his enemies answered and refuted her. Nor were his political abilities his only talents; his eloquence was an era in the senate, peculiar and spontaneous, familiarly expressing gigantic sentiments and instinctive wisdom: not like the torrent of Demosthenes, or the conflagration of Tully; it resembled sometimes the thunder and sometimes the music of the spheres. He did not conduct the understanding through the painful subtlety of argumentation; nor was he for ever on the rack of exertion, but rather lightened on the subject, and reached the point by the flashings of the mind, which, like those of his eye, were felt, but could not be followed. Upon the whole, there was in this man something that could create, reform, or subvert; an understanding, a spirit, and an eloquence to summon mankind to society, or to break the bonds of slavery asunder, and rule the wildness of free minds with unbounded authority: something that could establish or overwhelm empire, and strike a blow in the world that should resound through the universe."

At the time of Lord Chatham being interred, it was intimated in the public prints that an epitaph descriptive of his talents and services was to be inscribed on his tombstone; and that any one writing such an epitaph would render an acceptable service to the committee who had the management of his monument. The following was sent, but as it was unkindly rejected by them, it is here inserted:—

"HERE LIES THE BODY OF WILLIAM PITT, EARL OF CHATHAM; A GREAT AND ELOQUENT STATESMAN, WHOM THE KING DID NOT CONSULT OR EMPLOY, AND WHOM THE KING WAS RESOLVED NEVER TO CONSULT OR EMPLOY; A MOST INFORMED AND ENLIGHTENED SENATOR, A MOST CONVINCING AND PERSUASIVE ORATOR, WHOSE OPINIONS AND ADVICE THE PARLIAMENT HEARD WITH MOST ILLIBERAL IMPATIENCE, AND WHOSE ARGUMENTS THEY TREATED WITH MOST SOVEREIGN CONTEMPT. THESE WERE THE SENTIMENTS, AND THIS THE CONDUCT, OF BOTH KING AND PARLIAMENT. TO PERPETUATE THE MEMORY OF HIS ABILITIES, AND THEIR WISDOM, THAT KING AND THAT PARLIAMENT HAVE ERECTED THIS MONUMENT."