him for the preservation of Europe was the result of
prophetic wisdom and profound policy. But though defeated in many
respects by the selfish ambition and short-sighted imbecility of foreign
powers, whose rulers were too venal or too weak to follow the flight of
that mind which would have taught them to outwing the storm, the policy
involved in it was still a secret operation on the conduct of
surrounding states. His plans were full of energy, and the principles
which inspired them looked beyond the consequences of the hour. In a
period of change and convulsion, the most perilous in the history of
Great Britain, when sedition stalked abroad, and when the emissaries of
France and the abettors of her regicide factions formed a league
powerful from their number, and formidable by their talent, in that
awful crisis the promptitude of his measures saved his country.

He knew nothing of that timid and wavering cast of mind which dares not
abide by its own decision. He never suffered popular prejudice or party
clamour to turn him aside from any measure which his deliberate judgment
had adopted; he had a proud reliance on himself, and it was justified.
Like the sturdy warrior leaning on his own battle, axe, conscious where
his strength lay, he did not readily look beyond it.

As a debater in the House of Commons, his speeches were logical and
argumentative: if they did not often abound in the graces of metaphor,
or sparkle with the brilliancy of wit, they were always animated,
elegant, and classical. The strength of his oratory was intrinsic; it
presented the rich and abundant resource of a clear discernment and a
correct taste. His speeches are stampt with inimitable marks of
originality. When replying to his opponents, his readiness was not more
conspicuous than his energy: he was always prompt and always dignified.
He could sometimes have recourse to the sportiveness of irony, but he
did not often seek any other aid than was to be derived from an arranged
and extensive knowledge of his subject. This qualified him fully to
discuss the arguments of others, and forcibly to defend his own. Thus
armed, it was rarely in the power of his adversaries, mighty as they
were, to beat him from the field. His eloquence, occasionally rapid,
electric, vehement, was always chaste, winning, and persuasive, not
awing into acquiescence, but arguing into conviction. His understanding
was bold and comprehensive: nothing seemed too remote for its