us describes the fate of a senator whose rhetoric was admired in
the Augustan age: "Haterii canorum illud et profluens cum ipso simul
exstinctum est." There is, however, abundant evidence that nature had
bestowed on Pitt the talents of a great orator; and those talents had
been developed in a very peculiar manner, first by his education, and
secondly by the high official position to which he rose early, and in
which he passed the greater part of his public life.

At his first appearance in Parliament he showed himself superior to all
his contemporaries in command of language. He could pour forth a long
succession of round and stately periods, without premeditation, without
ever pausing for a word, without ever repeating a word, in a voice of
silver clearness, and with a pronunciation so articulate that not a
letter was slurred over. He had less amplitude of mind and less richness
of imagination than Burke, less ingenuity than Windham, less wit than
Sheridan, less perfect mastery of dialectical fence, and less of that
highest sort of eloquence which consists of reason and passion fused
together, than Fox. Yet the almost unanimous judgment of those who were
in the habit of listening to that remarkable race of men placed Pitt,
as a speaker, above Burke, above Windham, above Sheridan, and not below
Fox. His declamation was copious, polished, and splendid. In power of
sarcasm he was probably not surpassed by any speaker, ancient or modern;
and of this formidable weapon he made merciless use. In two parts of the
oratorical art which are of the highest value to a minister of state he
was singularly expert. No man knew better how to be luminous or how to
be obscure. When he wished to be understood, he never failed to make
himself understood. He could with ease present to his audience, not
perhaps an exact or profound, but a clear, popular, and plausible view
of the most extensive and complicated subject. Nothing was out of place;
nothing was forgotten; minute details, dates, sums of money, were all
faithfully preserved in his memory. Even intricate questions of finance,
when explained by him, seemed clear to the plainest man among his
hearers. On the other hand, when he did not wish to be explicit,--and no
man who is at the head of affairs always wishes to be explicit,--he
had a marvellous power of saying nothing in language which left on his
audience the impression that he had said a great deal. He was at once
the only man who