The Press.
London, England, 1853-09-03 00:00:00

THE PRESS.

manly countenance as he desc►ibes the ter-
rible state of things. Yesterday ho was at
Windsor, and saw the King of England iu the
paroxysm►s of madness. He beheld earthly
majesty laid prostrate by an (fetus Dei; and he
had seen the Queen, and all the household,
struck with consternation. He had witnessed
the alarm► of the loyal and prospj►eerous citizens
of L►►►►don, and had beheld horror on the
faces of great merchants that swayed 'Change.
A panic,—political, off►cial, and commercial,—
is seizing on the public mind. The rau►k and
tile of the Ministerialists are threatening to
desert. The faction at Carlton-house expects
to c►►r►y all before it. The King's suns,—
George P►ince of Wales, anti Frederick Duke
of York,—have shown themselves, in a►► hour
of anxious trial, to be bad Englishmen, a►►d
bad sons! And Fox—" Alt! there is the
cause of their errors. The Princes have fallen
into the hands of bad advisers."--Fox has left
Mrs. Armistead behind him on the Continent,
and he will now strive might and main to
repair his coalition defeat, and restore the
fallen political fortunes of his ►apacious fac-
tion, thirsting fin• revenge.
All this, and much more, is talked over by
Pitt and Lord Huwkesbu►y, when a loud and
joyous laugh is heard outside. "'Tis only
Robert, and one of his young college friends
from Oxfo►d.' And the statesmen continue
their colloquy, until the noise of wheels is
I►eard coming up to the door. 'Tis Sir Peter
Burrell, on his way to Beckenham, along with
his visitor, Sir William Young. They had no
idea that Pitt could be here, and Lord
Hawkesbu►y makes them stay and dine. As
Pitt will sleep at Addiscombe, there will be
time enough for their private colloquy s►t
night ; and Pitt, who nevur tires of parliamen-
tary or official topics, is glad to have compa-
nions who will take their wine tiller dinner,
since the host is not equal to the bottle.

And now dinner is announced, and "Robert,"
himself to be a Prime Minister in atter days,
comes in. But who is that along with hint,
whom he familiarly calls " George"? It is a
tall and manly youth, with a form of uncom-
mon grace, a countenance in which amiability
and intelligence are stamped, with lus-
trous eyes, a voice of singular sweetness,
and an air of genius in his every look and ges-
ture. Pitt is not mistaken. It is that bril-
liant lad who struck him so much at Eton in
the delivery of the complimentary speech
when Robert Tenkinson good-naturedly gave
his place to his friend George Canning.*
Both Sir C. Burrell and Sir W. Young are also
struck by the appearance of the gifted young
Oxonian, who eagerly listens as he hears
these politicians fresh from the great world
tattle of the topics of the day. Nor is Pitt
unobservant of his animated look, as Sir W.
Young tells the story of Lord Mornington (a
name dear to Oxonians) having consulted the
Sortes Virgilituve on the question, "Whether the
Prince of Wales would be Regent?" and his
opening at the passage in the seventh book of
the ..Etteid

" Sic mgia tecta subiln.t
liorridus;" •
and how, when he put the question, "'Whether
the King would recover his understanding ?"
he was answered by

"Comma viva n-efai Stygia noctare
and Pitt calls on young Canning to tnmslate
the last line, and he cries, " flood, sir, good !"
as the ready tongue of the orator in his teens
replies. " It is criminal to treat as dead a man
who has in him the principle of life ;" aud,
amid allusions to Welwood's memoirs and
Lord Falkland, dinner is announced, and the
small party adjourn. The two youngsters find
themselves out of place while the politicians
talk in the unknown tongue of St. Stephen's,
and they have tact enough to retire early
from the table.

Pitt has seareely spoken at all. but he has
listened while Sir Peter Burrell prattles on
about the way things arc going at Carlton-
house, where Jaek Payne, and Master Leigh
from Eton. and Lord Barrymore's young
brother. and Mrs. Fitz." form the Cabinet.t
along with Fox and Sheridan; and then Pitt.
in a quiet. subdued way, talks of the state of
affairs at Windsor, whcre the Prince grasped

• Historie.a.
4. Court., wa4 cattriuut4 ut kicurl;v: LU. (voL p.

SATURDAY,

at the command, but really ordered nothing
that was decent, and how it was only at his
(Pitt's) entreaty that a couple of grooms of
the chamber were appointed to receive the
inquiries of the anxious visitors. And Sir
William Young talks of the Princes, and
how the Duke of York has taken kindly
to play, and how the hawks at Brookes's pluck
his feathers without mercy, reducing him to
the vowels I. 0. U.* And the Prince of Wales
is even worse. " And all that," cries Lord
Hawkesbury, " when their father is so terribly
afflicted !" and he then chimes in with many
stories that he has heard from Lord Bulkeley
about the libertine lives that the royal brothers
are leading at this time of public sorrow.
But Pitt seems to be setting tired of all this,
and he appears impatient, and the subordi-
nates think it better to take a hint and re-
tire ; and the two visitors depart for
Beckenham, leaving Lord Hawkesbury with
Pitt, who then retire to the library, where
Pitt calls for another bottle of that " capital
wine." And then his host asks with incredu-
lity whether an the stories about the hardness
of heart and utter want of feeling shown by
the Princes can be true ? Pitt at first makes
no other answer but a significant look at his
friend, and, then drawing close, whispers in
his ear, " The Queen told me this ;" and adds,
sotto rove, facts which make Lord Hawkesbury
cry with a start, " You make my blood ran
c011.".} But Pitt does not care for " indigna-
tion" he proceeds to the crisis of the day,
and again puts all the eventualities of the
occasion before the practical mind of tho
veteran official, who replies in the quiet
manner of one who had been in close connec-
tion with another Prime Minister when the
political waves were running highil Yes !
Pitt is heartily glad he cantered out to Addis-
combe : it eases his mind to have Hawkes-
bury's common sense and experience on his
side. And now he must retire for the night,
and he says that he will have breakfast at
seven in the morning. So he proceeds to
his bedroom earlier than had been anticipated
by the household at Addiscombe. As he
opens his chamber door, he sees that there is
some one in the room. It is a maid servant
arranging the toilet-table, and within ten
miles round of Croydon a prettier girl than
Madge Brooks could not be found. Look at
her trim spruce figure, with her neatly-
made kirtle tucked up so nicely, and her
pretty coquettish mob cap, surmounting a
face fit for a May Queen. With her blooming
cheeks, her sparkling eyes, and gipsylike
glance, and with lips that might tempt an
anchorite, she looks the very model from
which George Morland painted. Sweet Madge!
how that mantling blush becomes you as
you find yourself alone with a youthful Prime
Minister, flushed with wine! But your lips
are safe from any rude coalition with those of
the orator before • you. Madge blushes still
deeper as the great man addresses her with—
" Stay ! you must let me hare —," and Madge
thinks that he is going to say something likewhat
other young bachelors would say ; hut, pshaw !
'tis only " a matchbox" he wants, and Madge
retires, saying to herself " that he's not such a
great man to look at after all, and if' her John
Thomas was only dressed up he'd be a finer
germ an, that he would; " but thus it is; and,
with an indifference worthy of Sir Isaac
Newton, the statesman, unmoved by the
apparition of rustic beauty, goes to his couch.
It wants ten minutes to eleven as he lays his
head on his pillow, and before the clock has
struck lie is fast asleep, and enjoys most re-
freshing repose before the midnight hour has
gone. And one, and two, and three, and four,
are told from the turret clock, and still, with
the calmness of a child, the tired statesman
slumbers ou.

But, as the Kentish waggoner guides his wain
towards Croydon, he can see a light in one of
the upper rooms at A ddiscomb4.,. "fis scarcely
half-past four ; but Pitt is up, and rummaging
in one of the saddle bags. He finds what he
wants. He has the full report of the proceed-
ings at the Convention Parliament in 168 S,
and he has the written remarks on portions

* Idetu (t(1. ii., p. 9s).
+ Ideal (v,4. ii.. p. Os).
" That valuable e.inimotlity—indignation."—Canning.
had been Lad privatv oecretary,

SEPTEMBER 3, 1853.

of it which he made his new Solicitor-General
(Sir John Scott) note for him. According to
his usual custom, he goes back to bed, to read
and meditate, and prepare for the emergencies
of the coming dad•. How cool is his mind—
how collected his faculties—how calm is his
unfaltering self reliance ! The crisis is one
that would ruffle the temper even of a master-
spirit but Pitt, with Fox, Burke, Windham,
and Sheridan in his front—with Lansdowne
hovering on his flank—with Thurlow acting
traitorously towards him—with the Princes
above him, conspiring for his fall—and with
his royal master out of his reason—amid the
falling funds and dreary forebodings of
frightened capitalists—even in the monarchy's
travail—Pitt is undaunted as a Marlborough
►mid the roar of battle, in his own person
incarnating the one poetic passage of Addison,
like whose " angel" he, too,