most timid and irresolute of men, afraid though it derived some color from that of disobliging the King, afraid of being weakness which was the most striking blemabused in the newspapers, afraid of being ish of his character, was certainly unthought factious if he went out, afraid of founded. His mind, before he became first being thought interested if he stayed in, minister, had been, as we have said, in an afraid of every thing, and afraid of being unsound state; and physical and moral known to be afraid of any thing, was beat- causes now concurred to make the derangeen backwards and forwards like a shuttle- ment of his faculties complete. The gout, cock between Horace Walpole who wished which had been the torment of his whole to make him prime minister, and Lord life, had been suppressed by strong remeJohn Cavendish who wished to draw him dies. For the first time since he was a boy into opposition. Charles Townshend, a at Oxford, he passed several months withman of splendid talents, of lax principles, out a twinge. But his hand and foot had and of boundless vanity and presumption, been relieved at the expense of his nerves. would submit to no control. The full ex- He became melancholy, fanciful, irritable. tent of his parts, of his ambition, and of The embarrassing state of public affairs, his arrogance, had not yet been made man- the grave responsibility which lay on him, ifest; for he had always quailed before the the consciousness of his errors, the disgenius and the lofty character of Pitt. But putes of his colleagues, the savage clamors now that Pitt had quitted the House of raised by his detractors, bewildered his enCommons, and seemed to have abdicated feebled mind. One thing alone, he said, the part of chief minister, Townshend could save him. He must repurchase broke loose from all restraint. Hayes. The unwilling consent of the new While things were in this state, Chat- occupant was extorted by Lady Chatham's ham at length returned to London. He entreaties and tears; and her lord was might as well have remained at Marlbo- somewhat easier. But if business were rough. He would see nobody. He would mentioned to him, he, once the proudest give no opinion on any public matter. The and boldest of mankind, behaved like an Duke of Grafton begged piteously for an hysterical girl, trembled from head to foot, interview, for an hour, for half an hour, and burst into a flood of tears. for five minutes. The answer was, that it His colleagues for a time continued to was impossible. The King himself re-entertain the expectation that his health peatedly condescended to expostulate and would soon be restored, and that he would implore. Your duty,' he wrote, your emerge from his retirement. But month own honor, require you to make an effort.' The answers to these appeals were commonly written in Lady Chatham's hand, from her lord's dictation; for he had not energy even to use a pen. He flings him self at the King's feet. He is penetrated by the Royal goodness, so signally shown to the most unhappy of men. He im- they knew to be diametrically opposed to plores a little more indulgence. He cannot as yet transact business. He cannot see his colleagues. Least of all can he bear the excitement of an interview with majesty.

followed month, and still he remained hidden in mysterious seclusion, and sunk, as far as they could learn, in the deepest dejection of spirits. They at length ceased to hope or to fear any thing from him; and, though he was still nominally Prime Minister, took without scruple steps which

all his opinions and feelings, allied themselves with those whom he had proscribed, disgraced those whom he most esteemed, and laid taxes on the colonies, in the face of the strong declarations which he had recently made.

Some were half inclined to suspect that he was, to use a military phrase, malinger- When he had passed about a year and ing. He had made, they said, a great three quarters in gloomy privacy, the King blunder, and had found it out. His im- received a few lines in Lady Chatham's mense popularity, his high reputation for hand. They contained a request, dictated statesmanship, were gone for ever. Intox-by her lord, that he might be permitted to icated by pride, he had undertaken a task resign the Privy Seal. After some civil beyond his abilities. He now saw nothing show of reluctance, the resignation was before him but distresses and humiliations; accepted. Indeed Chatham was, by this and he had therefore simulated illness, in time, almost as much forgotten as if he order to escape from vexations which he had already been lying in Westminster had not fortitude to meet. This suspicion, Abbey.

At length the clouds which had gathered spread throughout the nation, and was kept over his mind broke and passed away. His up by stimulants such as had rarely been gout returned, and freed him from a more applied to the public mind. Junius had cruel malady. His nerves were newly taken the field, had trampled Sir William braced. His spirits became buoyant. He woke as from a sickly dream. It was a strange recovery. Men had been in the habit of talking of him as of one dead, and, when he first showed himself at the King's levee, started as if they had seen a ghost. It was more than two years and a half since he had appeared in public.

Draper in the dust, had well nigh broken the heart of Blackstone, and had so mangled the reputation of the Duke of Grafton that his grace had become sick of office, and was beginning to look wistfully towards the shades of Euston. Every principle of foreign, domestic, and colonial policy which was dear to the heart of Chatham, had, during the eclipse of his genius, been violated by the government which he had formed.

He, too, had cause for wonder. The world which he now entered was not the world which he had quitted. The administration which he had formed had never The remaining years of his life were been, at any one moment, entirely changed. spent in vainly struggling against that faBut there had been so many losses and so tal policy which, at the moment when he many accessions, that he could scarcely might have given it a death-blow, he had recognize his own work. Charles Towns-been induced to take under his protection. hend was dead. Lord Shelburne had been His exertions redeemed his own fame, but dismissed. Conway had sunk into utter they effected little for his country. insignificance. The Duke of Grafton had He found two parties arrayed against fallen into the hands of the Bedfords. The the government, the party of his own Bedfords had deserted Grenville, had made brothers-in-law, the Grenvilles, and the their peace with the King and the King's party of Lord Rockingham. On the quesfriends, and had been admitted to office. tion of the Middlesex election these parties Lord North was Chancellor of the Exchequer, and was rising fast in importance. Corsica had been given up to France without a struggle. The disputes with the American colonies had been revived. A general election had taken place. Wilkes had returned from exile, and, outlaw as he was, had been chosen knight of the shire for Middlesex. The multitude was on his side.

were agreed. But on many other important questions they differed widely; and were, in truth, not less hostile to each other than to the court. The Grenvilles had, during several years, annoyed the Rockinghams with a succession of acrimonious pamphlets. It was long before the Rockinghams could be induced to retaliate. But an ill-natured tract, written The Court was obstinately bent on under Grenville's direction, and entitled a ruining him, and was prepared to shake the State of the Nation, was too much for their very foundations of the constitution for the patience. Burke undertook to defend and sake of a paltry revenge. The House of avenge his friends, and executed the task Commons, assuming to itself an authority with admirable skill and vigor. On every which of right belongs only to the whole point he was victorious, and nowhere more legislature, had declared Wilkes incapable completely victorious than when he joined of sitting in Parliament. Nor had it been issue on those dry and minute questions of thought sufficient to keep him out. An- statistical and financial detail in which the other inust be brought in. Since the free- main strength of Grenville lay. The offiholders of Middlesex had obstinately re- cial drudge, even on his own chosen fused to choose a member acceptable to the ground, was utterly unable to maintain the Court, the House had chosen a member fight against the great orator and philosofor them. This was not the only instance, pher. When Chatham reappeared, Grenperhaps not the most disgraceful instance, ville was still writhing with the recent of the inveterate malignity of the Court. shame and smart of this well-merited chasExasperated by the steady opposition of tisement. Cordial co-operation between the Rockingham party, the King's friends the two sections of the opposition was imhad tried to rob a distinguished Whig nobleman of his private estate, and had persisted in their mean wickedness till their own servile majority had revolted from mere disgust and shame. Discontent had

possible. Nor could Chatham easily connect himself with either. His feelings, in spite of many affronts given and received, drew him towards the Grenvilles. For he had strong domestic affections; and his

nature, which, though haughty, was by noj small apartment where the audience often means obdurate, had been softened by af- consisted of three or four drowsy prelates, fliction. But from his kinsmen he was three or four old judges, accustomed during separated by a wide difference of opinion many years to disregard rhetoric, and to on the question of colonial taxation. A look only at facts and arguments, and three reconciliation, however, took place. He or four listless and supercilious men of visited Stowe, he shook hands with George fashion, whom any thing like enthusiasm Grenville; and the Whig freeholders of moved to a sneer. In the House of ComBuckinghamshire, at their public dinners, mons, a flash of his eye, a wave of his arm, drank many bumpers to the union of the had sometimes cowed Murray. But in the three brothers. House of Peers, his utmost vehemence and pathos produced less effect than the moderation, the reasonableness, the luminous order, and the serene dignity, which characterized the speeches of Lord Mansfield.

On the question of the Middlesex election, all the three divisions of the opposition acted in concert. No orator in either House defended what is now universally admitted to have been the constitutional cause, with more ardor or eloquence than Chatham. Before this subject had ceased to occupy the public mind, George Grenville died. His party rapidly melted away; and in a short time most of his adherents appeared on the ministerial benches.

In opinions, Catham was much nearer to the Rockinghams than to his own relatives. But between him and the Rockinghams there was a gulf not easily to be passed. He had deeply injured them, and, in injuring them, had deeply injured his country. When the balance was trembling between them and the court, he had thrown the whole weight of his genius, of his renown, of his popularity, into the scale of misgovernment. It must be added, that many eminent members of the party still retained a bitter recollection of the asperity and disdain with which they had been treated by him at the time when he assumed the direction of affairs. It is clear from Had George Grenville lived many Burke's pamphlets and speeches, and still months longer, the friendly ties which, more clear from his private letters, and after years of estrangement and hostility, from the language which he held in con- had been renewed between him and his versation, that he long regarded Chatham brother-in-law, would, in all probability, with a feeling not far removed from dislike. have been a second time violently dissolved. Chatham was undoubtedly conscious of his For now the quarrel between England and error, and desirous to atone for it. But the North American colonies took a his overtures of friendship, though made gloomy and terrible aspect. Oppression with earnestness, and even with unwonted provoked resistance; resistance was made humility, were at first received by Lord the pretext for fresh oppression. The Rockingham with cold and austere reserve. warnings of all the greatest statesmen of Gradually the intercourse of the two states-the age were lost on an imperious court men became courteous and even amicable. and a deluded nation. Soon a colonial But the past was never wholly forgotten.

Chatham did not, however, stand alone. Round him gathered a party small in number, but strong in great and various talents. Lord Camden, Lord Shelburne, Colonel Barre, and Dunning, afterwards Lord Ashburton, were the principle members of this connection.

senate confronted the British Parliament. Then the colonial militia crossed bayonets with the British regiments. At length the commonwealth was torn asunder. Two millions of Englishmen, who, fifteen years. before, had been as loyal to their prince and as proud of their country as the people of Kent or Yorkshire, separated themThere is no reason to believe that, from selves by a solemn act from the Empire. this time till within a few weeks of Chat- For a time it seemed that the insurgents ham's death, his intellect suffered any de- would struggle to small purpose against the cay. His eloquence was almost to the vast financial and military means of the last heard with delight. But it was not mother country. But disasters, following exactly the eloquence of the House of one another in rapid succession, rapidly Lords. That lofty and passionate, but dispelled the illusions of national vanity. somewhat desultory declamation in which At length a great British force, exhausted, he excelled all men, and which was set off famished, harassed on every side by a by looks, tones, and gestures, worthy of hostile peasantry, was compelled to deliver Garrick or Talma, was out of place in a up its arms. Those governments which

England had, in the late war, so signally had been so proud of her; and she had humbled, and which had during many been so proud of him. He remembered years been sullenly brooding over the recollections of Quebec, of Minden, and of the Moro, now saw with exultation that the day of revenge was at hand. France recognised the independence of the United States; and there could be little doubt that the example would soon be followed by Spain.

how, more than twenty years before, in a duy of gloom and dismay, when her possessions were torn from her, when her flag was dishonored, she had called on him to save her. He remembered the sudden and glorious change which his energy had wrought, the long series of triumphs, the days of thanksgiving, the nights of illumination. Fired by such recollections, he determined to separate himself from those who advised that the independence of the colonies should be acknowledged. That he was in error, will scarcely, we think, be disputed by his warmest admirers. Indeed, the treaty by which, a few years later, the republic of the United States was recognised, was the work of his most attached adherents and of his favorite son.

Chatham and Rockingham had cordially concurred in opposing every part of the fatal policy which had brought the state into this dangerous situation. But their paths now diverged. Lord Rockingham thought, and, as the event proved, thought most justly, that the revolted colonies were separated from the Empire for ever, and that the only effect of prolonging the war on the American continent would be to divide resources which it was desirable to The Duke of Richmond had given notice concentrate. If the hopeless attempt to of an address to the throne, against the subjugate Pennsylvania and Virginia were further prosecution of hostilities with Amerabandoned, war against the house of Bour-ica. Chatham had, during some time, abbon might possibly be avoided, or, if inev-sented himself from Parliament, in conseitable, might be carried on with success quence of his growing infirmities. He deand glory. We might even indemnify termined to appear in his place on this ocourselves for part of what we had lost, at casion, and to declare that his opinions were the expense of those foreign enemies who decidedly at variance with those of the had hoped to profit by our domestic dis- Rockingham party. He was in a state of sensions. Lord Rockingham, therefore, great excitement. His medical attendants and those who acted with him, conceived were uneasy, and strongly advised him to that the wisest course now open to Eng- calm himself, and to remain at home. But land, was to acknowledge the independence he was not to be controlled. His son Wilof the United States, and to turn her whole liam, and his son-in-law Lord Mahon, acforce against her European enemies. companied him to Westminster. He rested Chatham, it should seem, ought to have himself in the Chancellor's room till the detaken the same side. Before France had bate commenced, and then, leaning on his taken any part in our quarrel with the colo- two young relations, limped to his seat. nies, he had repeatedly, and with great en- The slightest particulars of that day were ergy of language, declared that it was im- remembered, and have been carefully repossible to conquer America; and he could corded. He bowed, it was remarked, with not without absurdity maintain that it was great courtliness to those peers who rose to easier to conquer France and America to- make way for him and his supporters. His gether than America alone. But his pas-crutch was in his hand. He wore, as was sions overpowered his judgment, and made his fashion, a rich velvet coat. His legs him blind to his own inconsistency. The were swathed in flannel. His wig was so very circumstances which made the separa-large, and his face so emaciated, that none tion of the colonies inevitable, made it to of his features could be discerned except him altogether insupportable. The dismem- the high curve of nose, and his eyes, which berment of the Empire seemed to him still retained a gleam of the old fire. less ruinous and humiliating, when pro-. duced by domestic dissensions, than when produced by foreign interference. His blood boiled at the degradation of his country. Whatever lowered her among the nations of the earth, he felt as a personal outrage to himself. And the feeling was natural. He had made her so great. He

When the Duke of Richmond had spoken, Chatham rose. For some time his voice was inaudible. At length his tones became distinct and his action animated. Here and there his hearers caught a thought or an expression which reminded them of William Pitt. But it was clear that he was not himself.

He lost the thread of his dis

course, hesitated, repeated the same words several times, and was so confused, that in speaking of the Act of Settlement, he could not recall the name of the Electress Sophia. The House listened in solemn silence, and with the aspect of profound respect and compassion. The stillness was so deep that the dropping of a handkerchief would have been heard. The Duke of Richmond replied with great tenderness and courtesy; but, while he spoke, the old man was observed to be restless and irritable. The Duke sat down. Chatham stood up again, pressed his hand on his breast, and sank down in an apoplectic fit. Three or four lords who sat near him caught him in his fall. The House broke up in confusion. The dying man was carried to the residence of one of the officers of Parliament, and was so far restored as to be able to bear a journey to Hayes. At Hayes, after lingering a few weeks, he expired in his seventieth year. His bed was watched to the last, with anxious tenderness, by his wife and children; and he well deserved their care. Too often haughty and wayward to others, to them he had been almost effeminately kind. He had through life been dreaded by his political opponents, and regarded with more awe than love even by his political associates. But no fear seems to have mingled with the affection which his fond ness, constantly overflowing in a thousand endearing forms, had inspired in the little circle at Hayes.

the

Nothing was remembered but the lofty genius, the unsullied probity, the undisputed services, of him who was no more. For once, all parties were agreed. A public funeral, a public monument, were eagerly voted. The debts of the deceased were paid. A provision was made for his family. The city of London requested that the remains of the great man whom she had so long loved and honored, might rest under the dome of her magnificent cathedral. But the petition came too late. Every thing was already prepared for the interment in Westminster Abbey.

Though men of all parties had concurred in decreeing posthumous honors to Chatham, his corpse was attended to the grave almost exclusively by opponents of the government. The banner of the lordship of Chatham was borne by Colonel Barré, attended by the Duke of Richmond and Lord Rockingham. Burke, Savile, and Dunning upheld the pall. Lord Camden was conspicuous in the procession. The chief mourner was young William Pitt. After the lapse of more than twenty-seven years, in a season as dark and perilous, his own shattered frame and broken heart were laid, with the same pomp, in the same consecrated mould.

Chatham sleeps near the northern door of the Church, in a spot which has ever since been appropriated to statesmen, as the other end of the same transept has long been to poets. Mansfield rests there, and Chatham, at the time of his decease, had the second William Pitt, and Fox, and not, in both Houses of Parliament, ten per- Grattan, and Canning, and Wilberforce. sonal adherents. Half the public men of In no other cemetery do so many great citiage had been estranged from him by his zens lie within so narrow a space. High errors, and the other half by the exertions over those venerable graves towers the which he had made to repair his errors. His stately monument of Chatham, and from last speech had been an attack at once on above, his own effigy, graven by a cunning the policy pursued by the government, and hand, seems still, with eagle face and outon the policy recommended by the opposi- stretched arm, to bid England be of good tion. But death at once restored him to his cheer, and to hurl defiance at her foes. old place in the affection of his country. The generation which reared that memorial Who could hear unmoved of the fall of that of him has disappeared. The time has which had been so great, and which had come when the rash and indiscriminate stood so long? The circumstances, too, judgments which his contemporaries passed seemed rather to belong to the tragic stage on his character may be calmly revised by than to real life. A great statesman, full history. And history, while, for the warnof years and honors, led forth to the senate- ing of vehement, high, and daring natures, house by a son of rare hopes, and stricken down in full council while straining his feeble voice to rouse the drooping spirit of his country, could not but be remembered with peculiar veneration and tenderness. Detraction was overawed. The voice even of just and temperate censure was mute.

she notes his many errors, will yet deliberately pronounce, that, among the eminent men whose bones lie near his, scarcely one has left a more stainless, and none a more splendid name.