Note 15 — Chapter IV

Though the character of Mr Windham, as a statesman and orator, was less developed at that time, than it has been since, it seems to have been justly appreciated by our author. He considered him as the disciple of Mr Burke; and it is certainly some distinction to be able to understand the arguments, and follow the enthusiastic flights of that great, but irregular mind. He is at present (with one exception) the ablest speaker in the House of Commons: but he is still, and ever will be nothing more than an imitator of Burke. There is in all his speeches, an infinite fund of wit, of information, of reading, of ingenuity, of taste, of refinement, of every thing but force and originality: but of these last, there is a total absence. All is borrowed, artificial, cast like plaster figures in a mould. The creations of his mind are as multiplied, and they are as brittle. Perhaps it may be thought that the want of originality is the last thing which should be objected to this delightful speaker, all whose sentences sparkle with singularity and paradox. But this effect is equally mechanical with the rest. Real originality produces occasional, not systematic paradox. He who always waits to contradict others, has no opinion of his own. It is as easy to predict the side which Mr Windham will take on any question as to guess what the first old woman you meet, would think on the same subject; for you may be sure that his opinion will be the contrary of hers. His creed is a sort of antithesis to common sense, and he is as much the slave of vulgar prejudices in always opposing, as if he always yielded to them. Originality consists in considering things as they are, independently of what others think, singularity is mere common-place transposed. The one requires the utmost exercise of the judgment, the other suspends the use of it altogether. [These remarks were written in 1810, before Mr Windham’s death.]