The materials out of which he had to construct a government were neither solid nor splendid.To that party, weak in numbers, but strong in every kind of talent, which was hostile to the domestic and foreign policy of his late advisers, he could not have recourse.For that party, while it differed from his late advisers on every point on which they had been honoured with his approbation, cordially agreed with them as to the single matter which had brought on them his displeasure.All that was left to him was to call up the rear ranks of the old ministry to form the front rank of a new ministry.In an age pre-eminently fruitful of parliamentary talents, a cabinet was formed containing hardly a single man who, in parliamentary talents, could be considered as even of the second rate.The most important offices in the state were bestowed on decorous and laborious mediocrity.Henry Addington was at the head of the Treasury.He had been an early, indeed a hereditary, friend of Pitt, and had by Pitt's influence been placed, while still a young man, in the chair of the House of Commons.He was universally admitted to have been the best speaker that had sate in that chair since the retirement of Onslow.But nature had not bestowed on him very vigorous faculties; and the highly respectable situation which he had long occupied with honour had rather unfitted than fitted him for the discharge of his new duties.His business had been to bear himself evenly between contending factions.He had taken no part in the war of words; and he had always been addressed with marked deference by the great orators who thundered against each other from his right and from his left.It was not strange that, when, for the first time, he had to encounter keen and vigorous antagonists, who dealt hard blows without the smallest ceremony, he should have been awkward and unready, or that the air of dignity and authority which he had acquired in his former post, and of which he had not divested himself, should have made his helplessness laughable and pitiable.Nevertheless, during many months, his power seemed to stand firm.He was a favourite with the King, whom he resembled in narrowness of mind, and to whom he was more obsequious than Pitt had ever been.The nation was put into high good humour by a peace with France.The enthusiasm with which the upper and middle classes had rushed into the war had spent itself.Jacobinism was no longer formidable.
Everywhere there was a strong reaction against what was called the atheistical and anarchical philosophy of the eighteenth century.Bonaparte, now First Consul, was busied in constructing out of the ruins of old institutions a new ecclesiastical establishment and a new order of knighthood.That nothing less than the dominion of the whole civilised world would satisfy his selfish ambition was not yet suspected; nor did even wise men see any reason to doubt that he might be as safe a neighbour as any prince of the House of Bourbon had been.The treaty of Amiens was therefore hailed by the great body of the English people with extravagant joy.The popularity of the minister was for the moment immense.His want of parliamentary ability was, as yet, of little consequence: for he had scarcely any adversary to encounter.The old opposition, delighted by the peace, regarded him with favour.A new opposition had indeed been formed by some of the late ministers, and was led by Grenville in the House of Lords, and by Windham in the House of Commons.But the new opposition could scarcely muster ten votes, and was regarded with no favour by the country.On Pitt the ministers relied as on their firmest support.He had not, like some of his colleagues, retired in anger.He had expressed the greatest respect for the conscientious scruple which had taken possession of the royal mind; and he had promised his successors all the help in his power.In private his advice was at their service.In Parliament he took his seat on the bench behind them; and, in more than one debate, defended them with powers far superior to their own.The King perfectly understood the value of such assistance.On one occasion, at the palace, he took the old minister and the new minister aside."If we three," he said, "keep together, all will go well."But it was hardly possible, human nature being what it is, and, more especially, Pitt and Addington being what they were, that this union should be durable.Pitt, conscious of superior powers, imagined that the place which he had quitted was now occupied by a mere puppet which he had set up, which he was to govern while he suffered it to remain, and which he was to fling aside as soon as he wished to resume his old position.Nor was it long before he began to pine for the power which he had relinquished.He had been so early raised to supreme authority in the state, and had enjoyed that authority so long, that it had become necessary to him.In retirement his days passed heavily.
He could not, like Fox, forget the pleasures and cares of ambition in the company of Euripides or Herodotus.Pride restrained him from intimating, even to his dearest friends, that he wished to be again minister.But he thought it strange, almost ungrateful, that his wish had not been divined, that it had not been anticipated, by one whom he regarded as his deputy.
Addington, on the other hand, was by no means inclined to descend from his high position.He was, indeed, under a delusion much resembling that of Abon Hassan in the Arabian tale.His brain was turned by his short and unreal Caliphate.He took his elevation quite seriously, attributed it to his own merit, and considered himself as one of the great triumvirate of English statesmen, as worthy to make a third with Pitt and Fox.
