the memory of every worthy reader. Here, saved from my
poor friend Smelfungus (nobody knows how much of him I suppress), is a
brief jotting, in the form of rough MEMORANDA, if it be permissible:--

"Pitt four years King; lost in quicksands after that; off to Bath,
from gout, from semi-insanity; 'India should pay, but how?' Lost in
General-Warrants, in Wilkes Controversies, American Revolts,--generally,
in shallow quicksands;--dies at his post, but his post had become a
delirious one.

"A delicate, proud, noble man; pure as refined gold. Something
sensitive, almost feminine in him; yet with an edge, a fire, a
steadiness; liker Friedrich, in some fine principal points, than any
of his Contemporaries. The one King England has had, this King of Four
Years, since the Constitutional system set in. Oliver Cromwell, yes
indeed,--but he died, and there was nothing for it but to hang his body
on the gallows. Dutch William, too, might have been considerable,--but
he was Dutch, and to us proved to be nothing. Then again, so long as
Sarah Jennings held the Queen's Majesty in bondage, some gleams
of Kinghood for us under Marlborough:--after whom Noodleism and
Somnambulism, zero on the back of zero, and all our Affairs, temporal,
spiritual and eternal, jumbling at random, which we call the Career of
Freedom, till Pitt stretched out his hand upon them. For four years;
never again, he; never again one resembling him,--nor indeed can ever
be.

"Never, I should think. Pitts are not born often; this Pitt's ideas
could occur in the History of Mankind once only. Stranger theory of
society, completely believed in by a clear, sharp and altogether human
head, incapable of falsity, was seldom heard of in the world. For King:
open your mouth, let the first gentleman that falls into it (a mass of
Hanover stolidity, stupidity, foreign to you, heedless of you) be King:
Supreme Majesty he, with hypothetical decorations, dignities, solemn
appliances, high as the stars (the whole, except the money, a mendacity,
and sin against Heaven): him you declare Sent-of-God, supreme Captain of
your England; and having done so,--tie him up (according to Pitt) with
Constitutional straps, so that he cannot stir hand or foot, for fear of
accidents: in which state he is fully cooked; throw me at his Majesty's
feet, and let me bless Heaven for such a Pillar of Cloud by day.

"Pitt, closely as I could scrutinize, seems never to have doubted in
his noble heart but he