Footprints of Famous Men: Designed as Incitements to Intellectual Industry

by John G. Edgar

The name and memory of a great statesman, who has led and ruled senates by the might of eloquence, carried measures beneficial to millions, or impressed immortal principles on public conviction, are generally, in spite of political disputes and disagreements, regarded by a free and favored people with feelings of respect, admiration, and gratitude. They are associated in the mind of a community with periods of peril or prosperity, and recalled by each succeeding generation with national pride. “Great men,” said Burke, “are the guide-posts and land-marks of the state;” and, assuredly, history presents few more spotless or splendid reputations than that of the son of Chatham, who came forth and signalized his prowess as a ripe politician, accomplished debater, and skillful tactician, prepared for the work and warfare of the senate by his comprehensive views in what have been termed the proper sciences of a statesman—those of government, politics, commerce, economics, history, and human nature—at an age when many are making their first and last crude efforts at public speaking, or expending their faculties in frivolous dissipation and enervating luxury.

Doubtless the name which Chatham had made immortal was a tower of strength; and his brilliant example could hardly fail to inspire with a love of kindred fame the son on whom his fondest hopes rested. Indeed, there were both interest and curiosity experienced as to whether the power of the Pitt family would be increased or diminished. And, moreover, there was not wanting that encouragement to noble and patriotic exertion which is usually given by a generous public to the sons of great and popular ministers of state. It may, therefore, be truly said, that

“With prospects bright upon the world he came,
Pure love of virtue, strong desire of fame;
Men marked the lofty path his mind would take,
And all foretold the progress he should make.”

The family to which this illustrious man belonged was rich and respectable, though not patrician in origin or descent. The Pitts were for ages settled in Dorsetshire, but at length one of them became Governor of Madras, and brought home from the East that celebrated diamond, the largest then known to be in existence, which was sold to the Regent Orleans for more than three millions of livres, and took its place as the most precious of the crown jewels of France. The son of this fortunate functionary was a gentleman of Cornwall, and hereditary patron of some boroughs; for one of which, Old Sarum, his second son, a cornet in the Blues, was returned to Parliament. The talents of the latter were speedily exerted in such a way as to give offense to Sir Robert Walpole, who manifested the annoyance he felt by dismissing him from the army: but nothing could restrain the course of that terrible eloquence, which, in reality, was hardly under its possessor’s control. Instead of depending, as others had done, on oligarchies and “pocket-lists,” he relied for support on the middle classes, then struggling into importance, and, with their aid, ere long became the greatest war-minister who ever presided over the destinies of England. He married a daughter of the political house of Grenville, whose members played so conspicuous a part in the affairs of the eighteenth century, and had several children, of whom William Pitt, the second son, was born at Hayes, in the county of Kent, on the 28th of May, 1759.

The boy destined to exhibit so wonderful an instance of precocious statesmanship received the rudiments of his education under the paternal roof; and, although so delicate in health that he could only devote half the wonted time to study, his progress was remarkably rapid, and his talents evident to all who knew him. When eight years old, he was seen by the mother of Fox, who instinctively prognosticated the rivalry between her distinguished son and the young prodigy. The contention which had long existed between their sires no doubt suggested this idea to the anxious parent; and when she marked the singular cleverness of the little boy, and observed the wonderful propriety of his behavior, the maternal solicitude sharpening her penetration, enabled her to augur the fierce and bitter strife which was to shake senates and shatter parties. Lord Chatham was justly proud of his son, and predicted that he would add honor to the name; nay, more, he expressed a belief that he would some day be one of the first men in Parliament; and, if a minister of state, that he would arrive at the highest dignity. He therefore gave his utmost assistance in forming the future premier’s mind, and incited him to lofty and laudable aspirations. These labors were not in vain; and the Great Earl lived long enough to feel assured that a useful and brilliant career lay before the object of his tender care.

One evening a member of Parliament proposed to take the veteran statesman’s two boys to hear a debate in the House of Commons; but he refused to allow the younger to go. “If William,” he is reported to have said, “heard any arguments of which he did not approve he would rise to controvert them; and, young as he is, he has not even in that assembly many equals in knowledge, reasoning, and eloquence.” He must indeed have been a “marvelous boy,” to be spoken of even by a fond father, at such an age and in such circumstances. At this date he is stated to have had a turn for poetry, and to have composed, along with his brothers and sisters, a play in rhyme, which was acted by them before some friends of the family. He subsequently, while at college, produced a tragedy, which, when at the head of public affairs he calmly committed to the flames in presence of a friend, by whom this emanation of his poetic faculty had just been eagerly perused and spoken of in terms of high admiration; though perhaps the merits of the piece might not altogether have justified the praise.

Pitt’s earlier education was conducted by a tutor, but, as has been stated, under the vigilant superintendence of his father, who noted his progress, and rejoiced at the constant indications he gave of superior endowments. Haughty, vehement, and despotic in his nature as that extraordinary minister—the pride of England and the terror of her enemies—was to foes and friends in public life, no such characteristics were allowed to interfere with the quiet and happiness of his domestic circle.

In his fourteenth year, young Pitt was sent to the University of Cambridge, and entered at Pembroke Hall, where Dr. Prettyman, afterward Bishop of Lincoln, was his tutor. In age and appearance, indeed, he was a mere boy; but he was by no means boyish in mind or intellect. His acquirements were wonderful, and he could converse on various subjects with all the seriousness of manhood. He was much liked by his youthful compeers for his lively and amiable disposition; and at the same time esteemed by the tutors on account of his decorum in conduct and diligence in study. His manners in private life were then, as ever, frank, easy, agreeable, and utterly devoid of the cold arrogance and unbending demeanor he exhibited in his senatorial capacity.

Lord Chatham had desired and intended that Pitt should become a candidate for academical honors, but the gifted youth was prevented by weak health from keeping the requisite terms. Nevertheless, he obtained the degree of A.M. in compliment to his illustrious parentage, without any public examination. His juvenile contemporaries on the occasion testified their approval of his being thus distinguished by interrupting the public orator with loud and vehement acclamations. One of his warmly-attached college friends was Wilberforce, who entered upon public life about the same date as himself.