WILLIAM PITT
The Law of Heredity has been described as that law of our nature which provides that a man shall resemble his grandmother—or not, as the case may be.
What traits are inherited and what acquired—who shall say? Married folks who resort to the happy expedient of procuring their children at orphan-asylums can testify to the many times they have been complimented on the striking resemblance of father to daughter, or son to mother.
Possibly that is all there is of it—we resemble those with whom we associate. Far be it from me to say the final word on this theme—I would not, if I could, deprive men of a problem they can never solve. When all questions are answered, it will be time to telephone the undertaker.
That men of genius do not reproduce themselves after the flesh is an axiom; but that William Pitt, Earl of Chatham, did, is brought forth as an exception, incident, accident or circumstance, just according to one's mood at the moment.
"Great men do have great sons!" we cry. "Just look at the Pitts, the Adamses, the Walpoles, the Beechers, the Booths, the Bellinis, the Disraelis!" and here we begin to falter. And then the opposition takes it up and rattles off a list of great men whose sons were spendthrifts, gamblers, ne'er-do-wells and jackanapes.
When Pitt the Younger made his first speech in the House of Commons, he struck thirteen. The members of the House were amazed.