Livy, Sallust, and Thucydides. And I believe it may be said with the strictest truth, that no one ever read the Greek language, even after devoting his whole life to the study of it, with greater facility than Mr Pitt did at the age of twentyone.' It is not worth while to make any remarks about this expression of Dr Tomline, although we consider it as a most unguarded one. The world, we believe, has already acquired just notions concerning the early miraculous proficiency of men who turn out to be extraordinary, and scholars skilled in the study of the Greek language, and acquainted with the progress which individuals, probably endowed with a much higher degree of talent for the acquisition of languages than Mr Pitt possessed, have made in that most copious and most difficult tongue, will be able to attribute a proper portion of this expression to the honest partialities of the reverend author.

Mr Pitt was also very successful in his mathematical and philosophical studies, and he appears to have had a great fondness for the abstruse sciences. When about to leave Dr Tomline, he expressed a hope that he should at some future time find leisure to read Newton's Principia, and in the last period of his life he often declared, that he had never employed his time more profitably than in those studies. Mr Pitt was not fond of composition, though he possessed an 'elegant taste' for the beauties of the English poets, and occasionally in his youth wrote verses. He considered Middleton's life of Cicero, the political and historical works of lord Bolingbroke, and the writings of Hume and Robertson, as excellent models; but he could never be brought to admire Johnson's style, and much less that of Gibbon. Lord Chatham recommended to him Barrow's sermons, as particularly useful in furnishing a copiousness of language. It seems also that Mr Pitt was exceeding fond of Locke's essay on the human understanding, of which he made a complete analysis. Finally, Dr Tomline declares that no young man was ever more admired and beloved, or more studiously avoided every species of irregularity, notwithstanding his society was greatly sought after; and that from the age of seventeen he constantly passed his evenings in company. At this early period there was the same firmness of principle and rectitude, which marked his character more in the advanced stages of life.'

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But if there is any thing touching and interesting in the

short life, of which we have just made a rapid abridgment, it is to be found in the sensible and affectionate letters of lord and lady Chatham to their son, William Pitt; and if there is any thing which ought to make the memory of that truly great man more beloved and revered than it already is, it is the natural and unaffected solicitude for the health, welfare, and good conduct of his son, every where displayed in these letters, as well as the high and delightful hopes which he had already the discernment to form of his child's promise and prospects. Dr Tomline has contented himself with informing us, in a single sentence, that both lord and lady Chatham bestowed infinite pains upon the education of William, as well as of all their children. This brevity we again regret, and we regret also most deeply, that he has been able to insert only five of those charming letters, from which we shall shortly give a few extracts, and which, in our poor opinion, are worth as many volumes of political histories and discussions. Indeed, it has been long matter of common notoriety, that the parents, particularly the mother, watched over the health and education of the son with the utmost care and perseverance, and we recollect to have heard an anecdote, which will in some degree illustrate the truth of the remark. Lord Chatham being engaged one day with a gentleman upon official business, William, then about thirteen years old, came into the room with a long copy of verses, requesting him to look at and correct them: 'go away now,' said the father, ' I am engaged; take them to your mother, and beg her to look over them for you.'

The following extracts are taken from a letter, dated Burton Pynsent, Oct. 9, 1773, to Mr Pitt upon his going to the university :

'Burton Pynsent, Oct. 9, 1773. Thursday's post brought us no letter from the dear traveller: we trust this day will prove more satisfactory; it is the happy day that gave us your brother, and will not be less in favor with all here, if it should give us, about four o'clock, an epistle from my dear William. By that hour, I reckon, we shall be warm in our cups, and shall not fail to pour forth, with renewed joy, grateful libations over the much wished tidings of your prosperous progress towards your destination. We compute, that yesterday brought you to the venerable aspect of alma mater; and that you are invested to day with the toga virilis. Your race of manly virtue and useful knowledge is now begun, and may the favor of heaven smile upon the noble career.

'Little was really disappointed at not being in time to see you-a good mark for my young vivid friend. He is just as much compounded of the elements of air and fire as he was. A due proportion of terrestrial solidity will, I trust, come, and make him perfect. How happy, my loved boy, is it, that your mama and I can tell ourselves, there is at Cambridge one, without a beard, "and all the elements so mixed in him, that nature might stand up, and say, this is a man." I now take leave for today, not meaning this for what James calls a regular letter, but a flying thought, that wings itself towards my absent William. Horses are ready and all is birth-day.'

To this interesting letter lady Chatham added the following postcript:

If more could be said expressive of feelings, my dearest boy, I would add a letter to this epistle, but as it is composed, I will only sign to its expressive contents,

Your fond and loving mother,

HESTER CHATHAM.'

The first of the following letters was written by lord Chatham to Mr Pitt, when he was recovering from his illness which has been mentioned.

'Burton Pynsent, Oct. 30, 1773.

With what ease of mind and joy of heart I write to my loved William, since Mr Wilson's comfortable letter of Monday! I do not mean to address you as a sick man: I trust in heaven, that convalescent is the only title I am to give you in the ailing tribe and that you are now enjoying the happy advantage of Dr Glynn's acquaintance, as one of the cheerful and witty sons of Apollo, in his poetic, not his medical attribute. But though I indulge with inexpressible delight the thought of your returning health, I cannot help being a little in pain, lest you should make more haste than good speed to be well. Your mama has been before me, in suggesting that most useful proverb, reculer pour mieux sauter, useful to all, but to the ardent, necessary. You may indeed, my sweet boy, better than any one, practise this sage dictum, without any risque of being thrown out (as little James would say) in the chase of learning. All you want at present, is quiet; with this, if your ardor piσTú can be kept in, till you are stronger, you will make noise enough.'

Hayes, Sept. 2, 1774.

'I write, my dearest William, the post just going out, only to thank you for your most welcome letter, and for the affectionate anxiety you express for my situation, left behind in the hospital, when our flying camp moved to Stowe. Gout has for the present

subsided, and seems to intend deferring his favors till winter, if autumn will do its duty and bless us with a course of steady weather; those days, which Madame de Sévigné so beautifully paints, des jours filés d'or et de soye.

I have the pleasure to tell you, your mother and sisters returned perfectly well from Bucks, warm in praises of magnificent and princely Stowe; and full of due sentiments of the agreeable and kind reception they found there. No less than two dancings, in the short time they passed there. One escape from a wasp's nest, which proved only an adventure to talk of, by the incomparable skill and presence of mind of Mr Cotton, driving our girls in his carriage with four very fine horses, and no postillion. They fell into an ambuscade of wasps more fierce than Pandours, who beset these coursers of spirit, not inferior to Xanthus and Podarges, and stung them to madness; when disdaining the master's hand, he turned them short into a hedge, threw some of them, as he meant to do; and leaping down, seized the bridles of the leaders, which afforded time for your sisters to get out safe and sound, their honor, in point of courage, intact, as well as their bones; for they are celebrated not a little on their composure in this alarming situation.'

'My readers will be sorry to learn, that the following is the last letter of lord Chatham, which I am able to submit to their perusal; it was written only seven or eight months before his death." Hayes, Sept. 22, 1777.

How can I employ my reviving pen so well as by addressing a few lines to the hope and comfort of my life, my dear William? You will have pleasure to see, under my own hand, that I mend every day, and that I am all but well. I have been this morning to Camden-place, and sustained, most manfully, a visit, and all the idle talk thereof, for above an hour by Mr Norman's clock; and returned home, untired, to dinner, where I eat like a farmer. Lord Mahon has confounded, not convinced, the incorrigible soi-disant Dr Wilson. Dr Franklin's lightning, rebel as he is, stands proved the more innocent; and Wilson's nobs must yield to the pointed conductors. On Friday, lord Mahon's indefatigable spirit is to exhibit another incendium, to lord Mayor, foreign ministers, and all lovers of philosophy and the good of society; and means to illuminate the horizon with a little bonfire of twelve hundred fagots and a double edifice. Had our dear friend been born sooner, Nero and the second Charles could never have amused themselves by reducing to ashes the two noblest cities in the world. My hand begins to demand repose ;-so, with my best compliments to Aristotle, Homer, Thucydides, Xenophon, not forgetting the civilians, and law of nations tribe, adieu, my dearest William. Your ever most affectionate father,

'CHATHAM.'

But it is time to hasten to Mr Pitt's first appearance in parliament. This event was remarkable on two accounts; it was the first setting forth of a man who was in a short time, and for a long time, so eminent and powerful, and it was also the first appearance of one who not only equalled, but even surpassed the expectations, extravagant as they certainly were, which were entertained concerning him. The great success and reputation of lord Chatham's administration, and his wonderful intellect and commanding personal qualities had prepared for that son, whose careful education and great talents were well known, an elevated and spacious niche in the anticipations of the public. It was also well known that lord Chatham had regarded his second son from his tenderest years as that child, above all others, who was destined to preserve and magnify the name of that terrible cornet of horse,' whom sir Robert Walpole was so desirous to 'muzzle.'

Lord Chatham, having been a minister and a statesman, was perfectly acquainted with the manner of education most useful for his son to receive; and he had fidelity, perseverance, and paternal affection enough to bestow himself, or procure for his child that political and historical knowledge, and accustom him to those habits of reflection and reasoning, of which the value was instantly felt, and for which, so great an usury was so soon rendered. These were the advantages which William Pitt the younger possessed; and accordingly, we observe him upon his entrance into the house of commons at the age of twenty-two, stepping at once upon that broad and firm pedestal, which these circumstances had prepared for him, and in his first essay speaking with the ease, confidence, dignity, and presence of mind of a statesman, who had been declaiming for fifty years, nailed to the north wall of opposition,' for it was there that Mr Pitt began. His first speech was made upon Mr Burke's bill for reform in the civil list. Dr Tomline declares that Mr Pitt did not intend to speak, but some gentlemen calling out, as is the custom in the house of commons, the name of Mr Pitt at the conclusion of lord Nugent's speech, and the house evidently waiting to receive him, he thought it necessary to rise. Dr Tomline remarks, that from the beginning he was collected and unembarrassed. Never were higher expectations more completely answered; such was the fluency and accuracy of his language, such the perspicuity of arrangement, and such the closeness New Series, No. 9.

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