He was a truly extemporaneous speaker, and seldom attempted any other style. When he did he failed. His memory was strong and retentive, and his mind so fully stored with information on every subject that he was always ready for debate. Some of his grandest efforts were called forth by an unexpected circumstance, or a single glance of his eye. Once, while replying to Suffolk, he caught a view of the tapestry on which was painted some of the achievements of the ancestors of that lord, and instantly seized the hint it conveyed and gave expression to one of the noblest bursts of eloquence in any language. One of his contemporaries says:
“When without forethought or any other preparation than those talents nature had supplied, and education cultivated, Chatham rose—stirred to anger by some sudden subterfuge of corruption, or device of tyranny—then was heard an eloquence never surpassed either in ancient or modern times. It was the highest power of expression ministering to the highest power of thought.”
WILLIAM PITT.
The manner in which the younger Pitt succeeded to the talents and position of the elder is one of the most wonderful things in history. His father trained him from his infancy in the models which he himself had imitated so successfully. Some of these means of improvement, which at least assisted in producing the peculiar character of the eloquence of father and son, are worthy of our attention. They both translated from the best classical authors, committed to memory choice passages from the poets, and prose writers they valued, thus acquiring great command of words. With such previous training, it would have been useless for them to write even in their most elaborate efforts.
When the younger Pitt had finished the traditional college course and was admitted to the bar, he also entered Parliament, being then only twenty-three years of age. He delivered his first speech, which was entirely unpremeditated, only about a month afterward. It took the house by storm. In the midst of that brilliant assembly, accustomed to the eloquence of Fox, Burke, and others worthy of any age, there was a universal burst of enthusiastic admiration. When some one remarked, “Pitt promises to be one of the first speakers ever heard in Parliament,” Fox replied, “He is so already.”
When only twenty-four years of age he was made Prime Minister, and held the post for seventeen years. Although there is room for a wide difference of opinion regarding many of his acts during this time, there is none concerning his ability. Among other reforms that he advocated was the abolition of the slave trade. He made a speech on this subject that is still celebrated. Wilberforce said that “for the last twenty minutes he really seemed to be inspired.” Windham declares “that he walked home lost in amazement at the compass, until then unknown to him, of human eloquence.” Pitt died at the comparatively early age of forty-seven, holding the highest office in the gift of his country.
Brougham gives a glowing account of his power as an orator. “He is to be placed without any doubt in the highest class. With a sparing use of ornament, hardly indulging more in figures, or even in figurative expression, than the most severe examples of ancient chasteness allowed—with little variety of style, hardly any of the graces of manner—he no sooner rose than he carried away every hearer, and kept the attention fixed and unflagging until it pleased him to let it go; and then
“’So charming left his voice that we awhile
Still thought him speaking, still stood fixed to hear.’
“This magical effect was produced by his unbroken flow, which never for a moment left the hearer in pain or doubt, and yet was not the mean fluency of mere relaxation, requiring no effort of the speaker, but imposing on the listener a heavy task; by his lucid arrangement, which made all parts of the most complicated subject quit their entanglement and fall each in its place; by the clearness of his statements which presented a picture to the mind; by the forcible appeals to strict reason and strong feeling which formed the great staple of the discourse; by the majesty of the diction; by the depth and fullness of the most sonorous voice and the unbending dignity of the manner, which ever reminded us that we were in the presence of more than the mere advocate and debater, that there stood before us a ruler of the people. Such were the effects invariably of this singular eloquence; nor did anything, in any mood of mind, ever drop from him that was unsuited to the majestic frame of the whole, or could disturb the serenity of the full and copious flood that rolled along.”