landers by methods of conciliation. Instead of cautiously shutting them out from all participation in the duties and privileges of their fellow-subjects; instead of continuing to tell the highlander that he had and always would have the spirit of disaffection, and that he must therefore be watched with never-sleeping jealousy, fettered with endless restrictions, and terrified into a love for his legitimate sovereign,-Lord Chatham boldly threw the defence of the country upon him, gave him rights to maintain, and taught him to identify his objects, his hopes, and his prejudices, with those of his fellow-countrymen. A more decisive and more successful policy was never adopted. From that period, the highlanders have been regarded as the very flower of the British army; and we believe, that the success of the last great battle, in which the troops of this country were engaged, is in no small degree attributable to the descendants of those who, before the time of Lord Chatham, were branded with the stigma of hopeless and eternal disaffection.

Great, however, as we seriously believe Lord Chatham's merits, as a minister, to have been, we turn with still higher pleasure to his efforts as a leader of opposition. He was, indeed and emphatically, the man of the people. He was their constant, sincere, and most able advocate-their warm and zealous friend; ready to ward off any danger which might threaten their true interests, whether proceeding from ministerial encroachment, or their own imprudence. And never, certainly, were the people of this country in greater need of such a friend than during the first ten years of George the Third. Administration succeeded to administration with a rapidity quite unparalleled; each heterogeneous, discordant, and weak; all the alternate tools and victims of a single favourite's caprice. Lord Bute-whose influence was the curse of Britain for so many years-precipitated the court into many acts, so arbitrary and wilful, as to exasperate the country almost into rebellion. On the other hand, there were not wanting public writers to take advantage of the popular discontents, and to point out the most unconstitutional means of redress. Smollett, Mallett, Francis, Home, Murphy, Mauduit, on one side, and the North Briton and Junius on the other, dealt largely in language the most gross and inflammatory; the former seeking to goad the ministers into absolute despotism, the latter aiming to subvert the very foundations of the monarchy. At such a time, Lord Chatham stood forward to repress the violence of both parties; and while he vindicated the rights of the people in language the boldest and most eloquent, and with a zeal and manner to which (as contemporary writers tell us) no description could do justice, he rebuked the revolutionary spirit, and rescued multitudes from its unholy domination.

The very austerity which partly disqualified him for a minister, rendered his efforts, as the people's advocate, only more impressive and successful. Corruption, impudent as it was in those days, not unfrequently trembled before him. He kept apostacy and tyranny in seasonable awe. The scoffer at patriotism, the derider of human

rights, the ignorant or interested partisan of intolerance, rarely ventured to encounter the thunder and lightning of his indignation.

In opposition, as well as in office, he supported all measures which had a tendency to make his country respected abroad, and happy within herself. Several instances are recorded in these volumes, of his seconding even those who had supplanted him, when their propositions were of such a nature.

He was contented with the constitution as he found it; and though he believed that many abuses had vitiated it, and that some disorders had crept in, which, if not reformed in due season, would bring about its dissolution, he yet resisted every proposal to take away even one of the principles on which it was built. He thought that, so long as the influence of the crown was kept within moderate bounds, so long as justice was administered in purity, so long as the voice of the people could make itself heard in those deliberations which involved their interests, the constitution was a good one, and ought to be affectionately cherished.

He was no innovator: but neither would he submit to innovation upon the country's rights. His loyalty was unblemished-but it comprehended the people as well as the king. He discountenanced every thing like wanton resistance to any public authority; but, at the same time, he believed, with Lord Somers, that the highest authority might act in a way which would justify resist

ance.

*

Before we conclude this article, we shall say a few words upon Lord Chatham's eloquence. We have to lament, that not one of his speeches has come down to us without mutilation and disguise. Some of those which are generally regarded as his, were written by Johnson, during the connexion of that author with the Gentleman's Magazine; others by Gordon, who succeeded Johnson as reporter. Many, of scarcely higher authority, we believe, are to be found in Chandler's and Debrett's Collections of Parliamentary Debates. Unfortunately, in the days of Lord Chatham, reporting was an art which had attained very little of its present comprehensiveness and accuracy; and unless a speaker wrote out his own speech, either before or after delivery, and gave it to the world under his own auspices, he had a very bad chance of being represented with tolerable fairness to posterity. We regret that Lord Chatham never did this; and the consequence is, that though we have many striking passages preserved in the volumes before us, and though Horace Walpole furnishes a few more, we must despair of ever beholding a complete specimen of that eloquence, to

* How far Gordon's reports are likely to be accurate, may be judged of from the manner in which he obtained them: "His practice was to go to the coffeehouses contiguous to Westminster Hall, where he frequently heard the members conversing with each other upon what had passed in the house; and sometimes he gained admission into the gallery; and as he was known to a few of the gentlemen, two or three of them, upon particular occasions, furnished him with some information."i. 131.

the great success of which men of all parties have borne the most unqualified testimony.

The specimens, however, which have been preserved, are sufficient to make us understand the praises that have been heaped upon Lord Chatham's oratory; and, perhaps, this is all. For we cannot help thinking, that it is impossible to perceive, in any of them, even a probable resemblance to those wonder-working speeches of which they profess to give us a just notion. True, many limbs of fine orations are scattered up and down these volumes, which, taken separately, are worthy of the highest admiration; but when bound up and knitted together into bodies by the unskilful hands of the compilers, it is not easy to conceive figures more heterogeneous and distorted.

Lord Chatham seems to have been the only eloquent man of his time-at least of the earlier part of it. Sir William Wyndham, indeed, and Lord Bolingbroke, are said to have been clever and impressive declaimers; Sir Robert Walpole, Sir William Yonge, Pulteney, Hume Campbell, Henry Fox, and, above all, Murray, were very able debaters; but Mr. Pitt was the only man who was always and unquestionably the orator. This is expressly acknowledged by Horace Walpole, who had often heard all the eminent speakers of his day. During the few last years of Lord Chatham's life, indeed, there were not wanting in the Lower House of Parliament men of the most splendid oratorical talents; for, in the language of one of those to whom we are alluding-" before this splendid orb was entirely set, and while the western horizon was in a blaze with his descending glory, on the opposite quarter of the heavens arose other luminaries, and for their hour, became lords of the ascendant."

Perhaps no orator ever possessed a more absolute dominion over his audience than Lord Chatham. He owed it, no doubt, to the united influence of his great talents, and of the universal (in many cases, the involuntary) belief in his sincerity. Horace Walpole, who professed to disbelieve in his honesty, gives us some anecdotes of the effect produced by his speeches-some of them of such a nature, as to make us doubt whether Walpole himself could attribute effects so striking to any merits purely oratorical. We shall borrow from his work a single anecdote, which we select, rather because it is, the shortest, than because it illustrates our meaning with the greatest clearness:

“1754. Nov. 25. Another petition being in agitation, the house thin and idle, a younger Delaval had spoken pompously and abusively against the petition, and had thrown the house into a laughter on the topics of bribery and corruption. Pitt, who was in the gallery, started, and came down with impetuosity, and with all his former fire said, 'He had asked what occasioned such an uproar: lamented to hear a laugh on such a subject as bribery! Did we try within the house to diminish our own dignity, when such attacks were made upon it from without? That it was almost lost! That it wanted spirit! That it had long been vanishing! Scarce possible to recover it! That he hoped the Speaker would extend a saving hand to raise it! He only could do it-yet scarce he! He called on all to assist, or eise we should only sit to register the arbitrary edicts of one too powerful a subject" This

thunderbolt, thrown in a sky so long serene, confounded the audience. Murray crouched silent and terrified. Legge scarce rose to say, with great humility, 'that he had been raised solely by the Whigs, and if he fell, sooner or later, he should pride himself in nothing but in being a Whig.'"-Memoires, i. 353.

A good deal, too, of the success which attended his eloquence, was probably attributable to his fine voice and person, and his most expressive and graceful action. In the latter part of his life, his very infirmities became subservient to the purposes of his oratory. It is well known, that he was a perfect martyr to the gout. He would often come to the house from a bed of sickness and pain; and, swathed in bandages, and propped by a crutch, he would make his most eloquent, and by far his most impressive speeches. Horace Walpole gives a striking description of his appearance on one of these occasions; though, as will be seen, he has the hardihood to pretend that the gout was all a fiction. "The weather," he says, 66 was unseasonably warm, yet he was dressed in an old coat and waistcoat of beaver laced with gold; over that, a red surtout, the right arm lined with fur, and appendant with many black ribbons, to indicate his inability of drawing it over his right arm, which hung in a crape sling, but which, in the warmth of speaking, he drew out with unlucky activity, and brandished as usual. On his legs were riding stockings. In short, no aspiring cardinal ever coughed for the tiara with more specious debility.' We need not point

out the falsehood of this insinuation; it is as improbable that a man like Lord Chatham should have been guilty of such a piece of quackery, as it is that Horace Walpole should ever have deviated into candour. Moreover, he was unquestionably disabled for years by this disease, and died of it at last.

The great characters of his eloquence seem to have been plainness, boldness, sententiousness, dignity, and strength. His language corresponded with his mind; it was lofty and austere. He was not so fluent a talker as his son: it would never have been said of him," that he could speak a king's speech off hand.' He had all the impetuosity and force which distinguished Fox (Charles Fox we mean) without ever reasoning so accurately, or speaking with so little art. To Burke the resemblance is still more faint; though, in the brevity and point which characterized Lord Chatham, he sometimes reminds us of what may be called the philosophical parts of Burke's great orations. We believe that Demosthenes would have thought him superior to any of the three whose names we have mentioned-even to Fox; Cicero, perhaps, would have ranked him the lowest.

We had intended to lay before our readers several extracts from those speeches which appear to be the best reported; and also to enter into a much fuller examination of their merits. But we have left ourselves no space to do so.

We have suggested, in the course of this article, some reasons which we thought likely to inspire a seasonable distrust of the

doubts that had been cast upon Lord Chatham's patriotism. But the speeches from which we have now been quoting suggest another reason quite as powerful as any of those already stated. Nobody can fail to perceive how strongly he spoke upon any measure which he disapproved, and with how very little qualification his censures were delivered. That he would necessarily excite the bitterest animosity in the minds of those to whom he stood politically opposed, by the manner and the success with which he held up their conduct to public reprobation, cannot be doubted for a single moment; and we have already adduced some reasons for believing, that the austerity of his character must have inspired his own adherents with occasional disgust. Such, then, being the case, we beg to ask, what is the inevitable inference from the proceedings which took place in parliament immediately after his death, and which are narrated in the following quotation?

"Intelligence of his death being sent to London, Colonel Barre (a principal member of opposition), the moment he heard it, hastened to the House of Commons, who were then sitting, and communicated the melancholy information. Although it was an event, that had, in some measure, been expected for several days, yet the house were affected with the deepest sensibility. Even the adherents of the court joined in the general sorrow, which was apparent in every countenance. The old members indulged a fond remembrance of the energy and melody of his voice; his commanding eye, his graceful action. The new members lamented, they should hear no more the precepts of his experience, nor feel the powers of his eloquence. A deep grief prevailed. The public loss was acknowledged on all sides. Every one bore testimony to the abilities and virtues of the deceased. On this occasion, all appearance of party was extinguished. There was but one sense throughout the house.

"Colonel Barre moved, 'That an humble address be presented to his majesty, requesting that his majesty will be graciously pleased to give directions that the remains of William Pitt, Earl of Chatham, be interred at the public expense; and that a monument be erected in the collegiate church of St. Peter, Westminster, to the memory of that great and excellent statesman, and an inscription expressive of the sentiments of the people on so great and irreparable a loss; and to assure his majesty that this house would make good the expense attending the same.'

"While this motion was reading, Lord North (then prime minister) came into the house, and as soon as he was informed of the business, he gave it his most hearty concurrence; lamenting that he had not come in sooner, that he might have had the honour to have made the motion himself.

"The motion was agreed to UNANIMOUSLY.

"Lord John Cavendish said, that he hoped the public gratitude would not stop here. As that invaluable man had, whilst in the nation's service, neglected his own affairs, and though he had the greatest opportunity of enriching himself, had never made any provision for his family, he hoped an ample provision would be made for the descendants of so honest and able a minister.

"Lord North coincided warmly in the noble lord's wish; and Lord Nugent, Mr. Fox, Mr. Montagu, Mr. Byng, and several other gentlemen, expressed the most sincere affection for the deceased peer, and pronounced the highest eulogiums on his virtue and talents; adding, that he had neglected his private interests by directing his whole attention to national objects. Mr. T. Townshend, now Lord Sidney, moved, That an humble address be presented to the king, expressing the wishes of the house, that his majesty would confer some signal and lasting mark of his royal favour on the family of the deceased earl, and that whatever bounty he should think proper to bestow, the house would cheerfully make good the same. The motion was agreed to UNANIMOUSLY."*

* As far as we know, a similar tribute of respect has never been paid to any other statesman. A motion to the same effect was made on the death of Mr. W. Pitt in 1806; but the house was by no means unanimous, and a division actually took place.