of the First Lord of the Treasury in Downing Street; and the cards were
already issued. But the days of the great minister were numbered. The
only chance for his life, and that a very slight chance, was that he
should resign his office, and pass some months in profound repose. His
colleagues paid him very short visits, and carefully avoided political
conversation. But his spirit, long accustomed to dominion, could not,
even in that extremity, relinquish hopes which everybody but himself
perceived to be vain. On the day on which he was carried into his
bedroom at Putney, the Marquess Wellesley, whom he had long loved, whom
he had sent to govern India, and whose administration had been eminently
able, energetic, and successful, arrived in London after an absence
of eight years. The friends saw each other once more. There was an
affectionate meeting, and a last parting. That it was a last parting
Pitt did not seem to be aware. He fancied himself to be recovering,
talked on various subjects cheerfully, and with an unclouded mind, and
pronounced a warm and discerning eulogium on the Marquess's brother
Arthur. "I never," he said, "met with any military man with whom it
was so satisfactory to converse." The excitement and exertion of this
interview were too much for the sick man. He fainted away; and Lord
Wellesley left the house, convinced that the close was fast approaching.

And now members of Parliament were fast coming up to London. The chiefs
of the opposition met for the purpose of considering the course to be
taken on the first day of the session. It was easy to guess what would
be the language of the King's speech, and of the address which would be
moved in answer to that speech. An amendment condemning the policy of
the government had been prepared, and was to have been proposed in the
House of Commons by Lord Henry Petty, a young nobleman who had already
won for himself that place in the esteem of his country which, after the
lapse of more than half a century, he still retains. He was unwilling,
however, to come forward as the accuser of one who was incapable of
defending himself. Lord Grenville, who had been informed of Pitt's
state by Lord Wellesley, and had been deeply affected by it, earnestly
recommended forbearance; and Fox, with characteristic generosity and
good nature, gave his voice against attacking his now helpless rival.
"Sunt lacrymae rerum," he said, "et mentem mortalia tangunt." On the
first day, ther