search after beauty should naturally lead the mind to the great origin of all beauty, to the -first good, first perfect, and first fair. But though in theory this seems a natural climax, we insist the less upon it, as in fact we have scarce ground to hope that every admirer of picturesque beauty is an admirer also of the beauty of virtue, and that every lover of nature reflects, that Nature is but a name for an effect, If, however, the admirer of nature can turn his amusements to a higher purpose; if its great scenes can inspire him with religious awe; or its tranquil scenes with that complacency of mind, which is so nearly allied to benevolence, it is certainly the better. Apponat lucro. It is so much into the bargain: for we dare not promise him more from picturesque travel than a rational and agreeable amusement. Yet even this may be of some use in an age teeming with licentious pleasure; and may in this light at least be considered as having a moral tendency. The first source of amusement to the picturesque traveller is the pursuit of his object; the expectation of new scenes continally opening and arising to his view. We suppose the country to have been unexplored. Under this circumstance the mind is kept constantly in an agreeable suspence. The love of novelty is the foundation of this pleasure. Every distant horizon promises something new; and with this pleasing expectation we follow nature through all her walks. We pursue her from hill to dale; and hunt after those various beauties with which she every where abounds. The pleasures of the chase are universal. A hare started before dogs is enough to set a whole country in an uproar. The plough and the spade are deserted. Care is left behind; and every human faculty is dilated with joy. And shall we suppose it a greater pleasure to the sportsman to pursue a trivial animal, than it is to the man of taste to pursue the beauties of nature? to follow her through all her recesses? to obtain a sudden glance, as she flits past him in some airy shape? to trace her through the mazes of the cover? to wind after her along the vale? or along the reaches of the river? After the pursuit we are gratified with the attainment of the object. Our amusement, on this head, arises from the employment of the mind in examining the beautiful scenes we have found. Sometimes we examine them under the idea of a whole: we admire the composition, the colouring, and the light, in one comprehensive view. When we are fortunate enough to fall in with scenes of this kind, we are highly delighted. But as we have less frequent opportunities of being thus gratified, we are more commonly employed in analizing the parts of scenes; which may be exquisitely beautiful, though unable to produce a whole. We examine what would amend the composition; how little is wanting to reduce it to the rules of our art; what a trifling circumstance sometimes forms the limit between beauty and deformity. Or we compare the objects before us with other objects of the same kind: or perhaps we compare them with the imitations of art. From all these operations of the mind results great amusement. But it is not from this scientifical employment that we derive our chief pleasure. We are most delighted when some grand scene, though perhaps of incorrect compo.. sition, rising before the eye, strikes us beyond the power of thought; when the vor faucibus hæret, and every mental operation is suspended. In this pause of intellect, this deliquium of the soul, an enthusiastic sensation of pleasure overspreads it, previous to any examination by the rules of art. The general idea of the scenes makes an impression, before any appeal is made to the judgment. We rather feel than survey it. This high delight is generally, indeed, produced by the scenes of nature, yet sometimes by artificial objects. Here and there a capital picture will raise these emotions, but oftener the rough sketch of a capital master. This has sometimes an astonishing effect on the mind, giving the imagination an opening into all those glowing ideas which inspired the artist, and which the imagination only can translate. In general, however, the works of art affect us coolly, and allow the eye to criticise at leisure. Having gained, by a minute examination of incidents, a complete idea of an object, our next amusement arises from enlarging and correcting our general stock of ideas. The variety of nature is such, that new objects, and new combinations of them, are continually adding something to our fund, and enlarging our collection; while the same kind of object, occurring frequently, is seen under various shapes, and makes us, if I may so speak, more learned in nature. We get it more by heart. He who has seen only one oak tree has no complete idea of an oak in general; but he who has examined thousands of oak trees must have seen that beautiful plant in all its varieties, and obtains a full and complete idea of it. From this correct knowledge of objects arises another amusement; that of representing, by a few strokes in a sketch, those ideas, which have made the most impression upon us. A few scratches, like a short-hand scrawl of our own, legible at least to ourselves, will serve to raise in our minds the remembrance of the beauties they humbly represent, and recal to our memory even the splendid colouring and force of light, which existed in the real scene. Some naturalists suppose the act of ruminating, in animals, to be attended with more pleasure than the act of grosser mastication. It may be so in travelling also. There may be more pleasure in recollecting and recording, from a few transient lines, the scenes we have admired, than in the present enjoyment of them. If the scenes indeed have peculiar greatness, this secondary pleasure cannot be attended with those enthusiastic feelings, which accompanied the real exhibition. But, in general, though it may be a calmer species of pleasure, it is more uniform and uninterrupted. It flatters us too with the idea of a sort of creation of our own, and it is unallied with that fatigue, which is often a considerable abatement to the pleasures of traversing the wild and savage parts of nature. After we have amused ourselves with our sketches, if we can, in any degree, contribute to the amusement of others also, the pleasure is surely so much enhanced. There is still another amusement arising from the correct knowledge of objects; and that is the power of creating and representing scenes of fancy, which is still more a work of creation than copying from nature. The imagination becomes a camera obscura, only with this difference, that the camera represents objects as they really are, while the imagination, impressed with the most beautiful scenes, and chastened by rules of art, forms its pictures, not only from the most admirable parts of nature, but in the best taste. We are, in some degree, also amused by the very visions of fancy itself. Often, when slumber has half closed the eye, and shut out all the objects of sense, especially after the enjoyment of some splendid scene, the imagination, active and alert, collects its scattered ideas, transposes, combines, and shifts them into a thousand forms, producing such exquisite scenes, such sublime arrangements, such glow and harmony of colouring, such brilliant lights, such depth and clearness of shadow, as equally foil description and every attempt of artificial colouring. W. For the Literary Magazine. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF WILLIAM PITT. WILLIAM PITT, the fourth child of William Pitt, earl of Chatham*, by Hester Grenville, sister of Richard, earl Temple, was born May 28, 1759. Nicholas Pitt, who lived in the reign of Henry VI, was the common ancestor of the lately ennobled families of Chatham, Camelford, and Rivers; and his des cendant John appears to have been a clerk of the exchequer in the time of Elizabeth. At Blandford, in Dorsetshire, the Pitts were originally situate, and Thomas Pitt, governor of Fort St. George, was the first of that name who attained considerable eminence. Having resided several years at Fort St. George, when the company was a mere mercantile body, and their chief officers factors and traders, he purchased for 20,4001. that large diamond called the regent, weighing 127 carats, which he sold to the regent of France for 135,000l., and which at present occupies a conspicuous place in the imperial diadem of Bonaparte. This enabled him to acquire a considerable estate at Boconnock, in Cornwall; yet his grand-children were not all amply provided for, as William Pitt, afterwards earl of Chatham, inherited but a scanty patrimony, and, though he had recourse to the profession of arms for support, never rose higher than a cornet of horse. What was * The following is an account of the family of the former earl of Chatham: John, the present earl, born Septem ber 10, 1755. Lady Hesther, born October 18, 1756, married December 19, 1774, Charles viscount Mahon, only son of Philip earl Stanhope (now earl Stanhope), and died July 18, 1780. Henrietta, commonly called lady Harriot, born April 14, 1758. William. And James Charles, born April 24, 1761, who entered into the royal navy, and died in 1789. wanting, however, in wealth was abundantly supplied by talents, for nature lavished on him her choicest store, and formed him on the model of ancient times. Having opposed sir Robert Walpole, that minister meanly deprived him of his commission; but this proved no obstacle to his advancement in the state, for in 1756 he became minister. His administration forms the most illustrious portion of the British annals, and it is memorable in every point of view. During that period, so able were his plans, and so original, and yet judicious, the manner in which they were executed, that, notwithstanding a strong opposition in the cabinet, the nation united in his support. Despising narrow prejudices, he was the first to call forth all the resources of the empire, by employing indiscriminately all its inhabitants; and with this collected mass he smote the French monarchy with a blow, from which it could never have recovered had he been supported in that quarter where he had the strongest claims. Thus the early portion of the reign of George III became clouded by his dismission, and men of penetration began to forebode the most diastrous events. Retiring, though not in disgrace, the wishes of the people still followed him; nor did he ever betray their confidence, for he persevered to the last moment of his life in those principles which he had early avowed. Two of the great objects on which his noble mind was constantly employed during the latter years of his life appear to have been a reform in parliament, without which he prognosticated the most fatal evils, and an immediate conclusion to the American war, the disasters of which he but too clearly anticipated. He may be said to have died as he had lived, in the service of his country: for, having fainted in consequence of his violent exertions in the house of peers, he was seized with a malady which speedily conducted him to his grave. The demise of Chatham was la mented by all parties; as during his ministry no inroads were made on public liberty, and as he had no enemies but those of his country, his death was counted a public calamity. The parliament which had despised his counsels unanimously voted him a funeral at the public expence, in Westminster Abbey, and a pension of 40001. per annum to his heirs, annexed in perpetuity to the title which he had so gloriously acquired for them, rather than himself. William, his second son, born in the midst of a war with France, appeared at a most auspicious era, and came into the world as if to witness the triumphs of his native country, under the auspices of his illustrious parent. The present earl being destined for the army, and James Charles for the sea service, lord Chatham determined to breed the second son in the paternal mansion at Hayes as a statesman. Having accordingly confided the care of the two other sons to other preceptors, he took William to himself, and the rapid progress of this wonderful boy seem. ed to cheer the solitude, and illumine the declining day of this veteran politician, who already predicted his future talents and success, and amidst the groves of Burton Pynsent, a seat bequeathed to him on account of his patriotism, presaged his future destiny. While his school exercises were performed under the immediate care of a private tutor, the Rev. Mr. afterwards Dr. Wilson, and a canon of Windsor, his father conversed with him freely on all subjects, with a view of expanding his mind and maturing his judgment. As he grew up, matters of the utmost importance were started and discussed before him. On these occasions, a fond parent, so eminent for his talents, and particularly for his eloquence, was accustomed to make the little orator declaim from a chair or a table. He knew that in a free country the gift of speaking with facility on every subject was His one of the most desirable acquisitions for a young man who panted to excel his contemporaries, and command his equals. He was conscious that this qualification had supplied all deficiencies of fortune in himself; and as his son, at the same time of life, was but scantily provided for, he wished, if possible, to bequeath it to him as an inheritance. lordship was aware also, perhaps, that his old rival, lord Holland, had bred up one of his children in the same manner; and as Charles Fox began already to distinguish himself in the house of commons, so as to have no compeer, it perhaps entered into his calculations that one William Pitt might outstrip the young as much as another had excelled the old Fox. At a proper period it was determined to send him to one of the universities; and Cambridge was preferred to Oxford, from a notion long cherished by many whig families, that the political doctrines inculcated there were more liberal than those usually engendered at Oxford. He was placed under Dr. Joseph Turner, since dean of Norwich, and who in 1784 was elected master of Pembroke Hall. Dr. Prettyman, now bishop of Lincoln, dean of St. Pauls, also participated in the care of his education, the latter being his private instructor. While at Cambridge, Mr. Pitt's morals and conduct were unimpeachable; and if the example of the young nobility is supposed to be sometimes but little beneficial in general, this rule found a noble exception in his person. Here he took his bachelor's degree and that of M. A., and established then such a character for industry, talents, and propriety of demeanour, as proved not a little serviceable in his future pursuits in life. On leaving college, Mr. Pitt entered Lincoln's Inn, nearly at the same time with Mr. Addington, whose father had been the physician and friend of his family: there he soon after hired chambers; and be ing, as usual, favoured on account of his degree, was, at the end of three years, called to the bar. When this took place, he, as is customary with junior counsel, selected one of the circuits as the scene of his early efforts, and on this occasion he made choice of the western. The late Mr. Widmore, afterwards a bencher of the Inner Temple, led in the first cause in which Mr. Pitt appeared. One of the first briefs he received was in the Cricklade election cause, when Mr. Samuel Petrie, a petitioning candidate, brought 76 separate actions against the sitting member for bribery and corruption. But Mr. Pitt had little practice, and consequently little celebrity, as an advocate; and perhaps he was but ill qualified, on the score of patient and laborious investigation, for a pursuit in which nothing great can be achieved, without the unabating industry of a whole life. John Dunning, afterwards lord Ashburton, and Thomas, now lord, Erskine, the two most successful men in the annals of legal history, are examples; as for lords Thurlow and Rosslyn, their rise is attributed to their practice in parliament, and not in the courts of justice. William Pitt had been bred a statesman, and the house of commons was consequently the goal whence he was to start in his professional career. At the request of some of the many friends he had made at Cambridge, he proposed himself as a candidate for that university, but failed from mere want of influence. A noble M. A. of Trinity college, however, accomplished by accident what all the good designs of his other friends had been unable to achieve. Happening to meet sir James Lowther, who died earl of Lonsdale, the duke of Rutland, after detailing the particulars of the late discomfiture, concluded by asking him, as a favour, if he could possibly make room in any of his boroughs for his young friend, Mr. Pitt, who had thus lost his election for Cambridge. Sir James, on VOL. VI. NO. XXXIV. this occasion, set aside a north country attorney, and brought in the son of the most favourite, able, and upright minister that England had ever witnessed. It was thusj owing to a casual rencounter in St. James'sstreet, that the future premier was returned by the influence of an opulent commoner for the borough of Appleby. Mr. Pitt, who was never unmindful of political favours, with a princely munificence conferred, in due time, an earldom on one, and a viceroyalty on another of the two persons who thus early contributed to his advancement. The American war was raging with unabated violence, and the member for Appleby, following the generous counsels and example of his father, reprobated it as one of the most shameful and disastrous conflicts ever witnessed in modern times. No one was more eager, at the same time, than he to arraign the conduct of the minister, and to attribute the worst and most selfish motives to all his actions. Having thus taken the popular side of this great question, his rising powers were exhibited to no common advantage, and he soon began to be considered not only as a promising speaker, but as a man one day destined to hold a conspicuous place in the councils of his country. This was no small degree of merit, when, in one house, a Rockingham, a Richmond, and a Shelburne, and, in another, a Saville, a Dunning, a Burke, a Barry, and a Fox, occupied, and almost exclusively engrossed, the public attention. there was still found a vacancy for this young orator, who so prematurely aspired to notice; and the eloquence, the talents, the long and meritorious services of his father operated like a spell to fix the attention of mankind on the conduct of a darling son, who already promised to rival him in patriotism, and almost in genius. Yet The extent of the regal power had engaged the attention of this parliament, and a vote of the commons, moved by the great lawyer, 2 |