The King has declared his intention to make me Secretary of State, and I (very unworthy as I fear I am of such an undertaking) must take upon me the conduct of the House of Commons: I cannot therefore well accept the office till after the first day’s Debate, which may be a warm one. A great attendance that day of my friends will be of the greatest consequence to my future situation, and I should be extremely happy if you would for that reason show yourself among them, to the great honour of,
Dear sir, your, &c. &c.
He did not know, continued Townshend, whose the letter was; he had heard of such a letter—he did not know that the first day of the Session he was electing a Minister; he thought he was called to express his duty to the King on the Address: now he was uncertain whether we were voting measures, or more people into place—but when gentlemen would not obey such letters, was not it necessary to issue other summons? He would advise a Minister to make the constitution the rule of his conduct.
Fox answered, with proper severity, that “it was usual for the informer to acquaint the House who signed such a letter, (though, said he, that is pretty well known,) and to whom it was addressed; though he should not insist on this; but,” continued he, “don’t let this additional imprudence be imputed to me, that I should be thought to have addressed one to that gentleman. I hope too that it is not a necessary part of prudence, that when one writes to a gentleman, one should consider what figure that letter will make, if shown. However, there was no undue influence in these letters; nor were they sent promiscuously, but to gentlemen of great consideration. But indeed the objectionable part proceeded from a false writing; between the words conduct and House of Commons, other[17] words which I will not name, were accidentally omitted.” He added, “I don’t believe that any gentleman gave a copy of this with a design of having it shown. Mr. Townshend allows me common sense; does he think I would say, conduct of the House of Commons? It is very early to treat me as Minister; but I should be proud of his advice. Was showing this letter behaving with the exactness of a gentleman? I protest I don’t know[18] who it was: whoever it was, I am persuaded he is very sorry for what he has done. I may have writ a silly letter; I am sure one of them was sillily addressed.”
Townshend replied, the man who received it was astonished; but hundreds at the distance of a hundred and fifty miles could repeat it by heart. He was sorry he did not receive one. He hoped there would be no more such. Beckford said, it was usual for those in great offices to be imprudent; he had a great regard for the gentleman in question; he has abilities; the rest have not: we have a better chance with a man of sense.
The same day, Mr. Ellis having moved for 50,000 seamen, including 9113 marines, and saying, that in peace we have but a fund of 40,000 sailors, it occasioned some talking, and people were going away, when Pitt rose and said, he shuddered at hearing that our resources for the sea service were so narrowed, especially as Murray had pronounced that we ought to be three times as strong as France, to cope with her. He remembered the fatal[19] measure of the reduction to 8000; he had stated the danger then in the face of power, and against that combined Administration, and that collusion[20] of power that was playing the land and sea into one another’s hands. He would pursue up the authors of such measures as make the King’s Crown totter on his head. That never was a noble country so perniciously neglected, so undone by the silly pride of one man,[21] or the timidity of his colleagues, who would share his power but not his danger. That this must one day be answered for, unless a fatal catastrophe from our hereditary enemy overtakes us. The peril comes from little struggles for a thing called power—is it the power of doing good? On an English question he would not hinder, but implore unanimity; would ask favours of any Minister for his country; would have gone that morning[22] to the honourable gentleman’s levée, to desire him to accept 50,000 seamen, not including marines. If he could obtain it, it would be the first thing done for this country since the peace of Aix. There would be proofs that this war had been colluded and abetted, till broad shame had stared them in the face, till shame and danger had come together. That he had been frightened into these sensations from the highest authority; that the House had adopted those terrors, and was willing to grant more assistance. The House indeed is a fluctuating body, but he hoped would be eternal. It was different from our councils, where everything was thought of but the public. On the contrary, we were a willing, giving House of Commons: the King might call for anything for an English object. That he did not dare to move for 10,000 more seamen, because he would not blemish unanimity. He concluded with a prayer for the King, for his posterity, for this poor, forlorn, distressed country.
Fox said, he was surprised that such a trifle as the reduction of 2000 seamen in 1751 should be made of such moment. So, not voting 2000 more, in a year after the war, was betraying this country! If voting one man more would raise one man, he would agree to it: but voting more, if they could not be raised, would only increase expense. That this number was greater than we had ever had on foot, even in declared wars against France and Spain. That he would never hear Mr. Pelham’s measures censured without defending them. That the reduction mentioned had been the consequence of Mr. Pelham’s economy, and of his provision against a war. He had discharged, too, artificers from the dockyards, and when Lord Anson represented against it, Mr. Pelham answered, you will never pay your debt, if you always go to the extent of what you can do. He had wanted, the same year, to reduce the garrison of Port Mahon, but was told by a great officer that Port Mahon could bear no diminution. With regard to struggles, he said, What the motives of these struggles have been, let those, who have struggled most and longest for power, tell. That for himself, he had been called to his present situation, and exerted his strength with cheerfulness upon a melancholy occasion. That we had been told that nobody who approached the King had sense and virtue; that sense and virtue are somewhere else—but how shall the King hear of them? he feared this House would not inform him. What conversation will lead him to that superior degree of it? that he would exert his degree as cheerfully as if he had struggled for it. Perhaps he had expressed his wishes for earlier augmentation. Mr. Pitt had asked, why it was not made sooner? he would ask, why not demanded sooner? why did Mr. Pitt not call sooner to arms? It came too late now, for no sense and virtue could be added to the reigning spirit of augmentation.
Mr. Pitt rose again, and said, that neither that day nor ever had he said that there were no sense and virtue near the Throne. If he had been misunderstood, he might too have been misrepresented. That if ever man had suffered by those stillettos of a Court which assassinate the fair opinion of a man with his master, he had. That the accusation of his having struggled for power had been received with such assent by the House, that he must speak to it. Was he accused of it, because he had not yielded to poor and sordid measures which he saw tended to destroy his country? That if he had, he might have been introduced to that august place. That it was impossible to go into all the private details of a whole summer, though compelled by such an uncandid manner. He should only say, he might have had, what the honourable gentleman at a long distance of time so gladly accepted. He had been unfortunate, but the measures were so ruinous that he could not with conscience and honour concur in them: would have strained the former a little, as far as to make a compliment, in order to be admitted to that august conversation. That having struggled for power was not the cause of his present situation. Was it not, that he could not submit to these treaties? The challenge, said he, is a bold one; let those who know the truth, tell it!—if they did not, he desired not their suffrage.
Fox rejoining, that the mention of struggles had called him up again, and that he had chosen to forget the gentleman’s former words of no sense and virtue near the Throne, Pitt interrupted him, and speaking to order, said, he averred on his honour those words were not his: his words had been, that France would found her hopes on the want of sense, understanding, and virtue, in those that govern here. That he had not interrupted Mr. Fox before, because he did not love to stop those whom plain truth would answer. Fox’s modesty had taken those words to himself. That nobody feared personal invectives less than himself, nor was he fond of using them. That he would not put the gentleman in mind of struggles to limit the power at which he had hinted. That he had urged these things strongly, in order to ground judicial proceedings. That Sir Thomas Robinson’s notable information of the answer of the Court of France to their merchants, had descended to the public papers. He must congratulate the Government on having some intelligence. Would France build too on his wishing for 50,000 seamen? He did believe our information would improve now Mr. Fox had got the Seals. Wished the latter would tell him what language to hold, which, instead of encouraging, would terrify France. He could not say he had treated Mr. Fox as the Minister—it was not quite that yet. He never went to the[23] place where so many bets were made, but, if he might talk familiarly, would bet on Mr. Fox’s sense and spirit—though some little things were against him.