Hayley's letter is a trifle too presumptuous in tone even for an old friend; but it affords one more proof of Pitt's neglect of literary men, though it is but fair to remember that in 1793–4 he was hard pressed by the outbreak of war with France and the struggle to keep the Allies together. Still, the greatest of statesmen is he who, in the midst of world politics, neither neglects old friends, nor forgets the claims of literature and art. In this connection it is painful to add that he allowed the yearly stipend of the King's Painter, Sir Joshua Reynolds, to be reduced from £200 to £50. On Reynolds soliciting the secretaryship to the Order of the Bath, he was told that it had been promised to an official of the Treasury. Another request, proffered through his patron, the Duke of Rutland, also proved fruitless, and he had reason to write with some bitterness—"Mr. Pitt, I fear, has not much attention to the arts."[609] His neglect of literature and the arts was the more unfortunate because George III and his sons did not raise the tone of the Court in this respect, witness the remark of the King to Gibbon at a State function. "Well, Mr. Gibbon, it's always scribble, scribble, I suppose."[610]
Apart from these obvious limitations in Pitt's nature, there was a wealth of noble qualities, which ensured life-long devotion from those who penetrated the protective crust and came to know, not the statesman, but the man. In him the qualities that command respect and excite affection were happily balanced. To a manly courage which never quailed in the hour of disaster, and a good sense that provided sage counsels alike in private and public affairs, he added the tenderer gifts. His affection once given was not lightly withdrawn. He looked always on the best side of men, and to that noble failing, if failing it be, most of his blunders may be ascribed. Even when his confidence was abused, he was loth to take revenge, so that Canning expressed regret at his reluctance to punish those who betrayed him.[611] Such a man will often make mistakes, but he will also inspire the devotion that serves to repair them. Moreover, even his opponents were forced to admit the conscientiousness of his conduct. On this topic the testimony of his friend Wilberforce is of value; for they had differed sharply as to the rupture with France in 1793; and, somewhat later, Wilberforce lamented the relaxation of Pitt's efforts against the Slave Trade. Yet their differences did not end their friendship; on 30th November 1797 the philanthropist wrote as follows to Sir Richard Aclom on the subject of the reformation of morals:
... There is one point only on which I will now declare we perfectly coincide, I mean, that of a general moral reform being the only real restorative of the health of our body politic. But I hesitate not to say that, tho' the Government is in its system and principle too much (indeed ever so little is, as I think, too much) tainted with corruption, yet it is more sound than the people at large. You appear to feel the disposition of the public to yield an implicit assent to Ministers without stopping to investigate the causes of that disposition (which are chiefly to be found in the violence of the Opposition and the established predominance of party). I will frankly avow no man has lamented this more than myself; I may indeed say more than this. I have endeavoured both in public and in private to fight against it. But selfishness has diffused itself thro' the whole mass of our people, and hinc illae lacrymae. You mistakenly conceive, as do many others, that I am biassed by personal affection for Mr. Pitt. When we meet, I will rectify your error on that head....[612]
Again, on 20th February 1798, Wilberforce wrote to William Smith, an active Abolitionist and now prominent in the Opposition, deploring the dilatoriness of Pitt, but maintaining that his patriotism was purer and more disinterested than that of anyone not under the direct influence of Christian principles. He adds these words:
I speak not this from the partiality of personal affection. In fact for several years past there has been so little of the eadem velle et eadem nolle that our friendship has starved for want of nutriment. I really love him for his public qualities and his private ones, though there too he is much misunderstood. But how can I expect that he should love me much, who have been so long rendering myself in various ways vexatious to him, and, above all, when, poor fellow, he never schools his mind by a cessation from political ruminations, the most blinding, hardening, and souring of all others?[613]
These passages explain why the personality of Pitt attracted all that was purest and most patriotic in the public life of England. Men might disagree with particular actions, but they saw in him the saving genius of the State; and this was the dominant feeling until the year 1801 when events scattered his following and reduced public life almost to a state of chaos.
His character, then, was strong in the virtues of steadfastness and loyalty, on which the social gifts can root deeply and bear perennial fruit. Of these he had rich store. His conversations possessed singular charm; for his melodious voice, facile fancy, and retentive memory enabled him to adorn all topics. His favourite themes were the Greek and Latin Classics. The rooms at Holwood or Walmer were strewn with volumes of his favourite authors, on whom he delighted to converse at length. Grenville declared to Wellesley that Pitt was the best classical scholar he had ever met. Yet, with the delicate tact which bade him enliven, not dominate, the social circle, he refrained from obtruding those subjects on occasions when they would be neither known nor appreciated. Equally good was his knowledge of English literature; so that in the company of kindred spirits, the flow of wit and learning, imagination and experience, must have rivalled that of the Literary Club over which Dr. Johnson held sway.
Unfortunately, only the merest scraps survive; but the testimony of Pitt's friends suffices to refute the Whig legend as to his cold and calculating selfishness, which filled even the hours of leisure with schemes for making himself necessary to the King and country.[614] On the contrary, he was fond of society, throwing himself so heartily into the conversation that the savant was merged in the wit, the Prime Minister in the genial companion. His jests were of that Attic flavour which seasons without stinging; and this was the outcome, not of calculation, but of a kindly disposition, which delighted to throw off political cares amidst the tide of mirth which he helped to carry to the full. He also felt increasingly the charms of country life, and at Holwood was never more happy than when labouring along with his gardeners in the effort to enhance the beauty of his grounds. This strenuous work, together with horse exercise and occasional bursts with the West Kent or Dover hunt, provided the recreation which enabled his naturally weak and gout-ridden frame to withstand the wear and tear of official life up to his forty-seventh year.
In town he delighted to visit friends in an informal manner, and was never more pleased than when he could have games with children. His romp with young Napier and the two Stanhopes when they succeeded in corking his face, has been already described; but it appears that even in 1805, when beset by manifold cares, he often dropped in at Broom House, Parson's Green, the residence of Sir Evan Nepean, and would "take a chair in a corner, and, laying aside state and gravity, would gambol and play with the boys."[615] At times his repartees were piquant. When his friend and admirer, the Duchess of Gordon, who had not seen him for some time, met him at the levée and asked whether he talked as much nonsense as of yore, he laughingly replied: "I do not know whether I talk so much nonsense: certainly I do not hear so much."[616]
Is it surprising that a character so benevolent, and social gifts of so much charm, should attract men about him? Of those who came forward to fill the gaps of the circle, only two, Wellesley and Canning, were men of powers so exceptional as to claim more than passing notice. Though descended from families domiciled in Ireland, they differed widely, except in versatility and devotion to Pitt. Wellesley's nature was Saxon in its inner hardness. Like his younger brother, the future Duke of Wellington, he rarely displayed signs of emotion; but his temperament, though cold at the heart, thrilled at the approach of great and perilous enterprises, amidst which he rivalled his brother in activity and resourcefulness. Accordingly, his Viceroyalty of India moved Bonaparte to envy, patriotic Britons to rapturous applause, and the parsimonious Directors of the Company to carping criticisms. Those who deny to Pitt the gift of choosing able and inspiring men, forget that he made Wellesley Governor-General of India, and supported him in his quarrels with the India House. As Earl of Mornington, Wellesley had helped the Irish Administration in various ways, and became closely acquainted with the Grenvilles. His first letter to Pitt, dated Dublin, January 1785, expresses thanks for assistance and for the offer of support in case the annoyances of his situation drove him to England. Thus, Mornington was first attracted to Pitt by his loyalty to subordinates; and, later, after his return to England, respect for the Minister ripened into admiration and love of the man.