On the 21st, Mr. Pitt moved the House of Commons to order a monument for General Wolfe; and, in a low and plaintive voice, pronounced a kind of funeral oration. It was, perhaps, the worst harangue he ever uttered. His eloquence was too native not to suffer by being crowded into a ready-prepared mould. The parallels which he drew from Greek and Roman story did but flatten the pathetic of the topic. Mr. Pitt himself had done more for Britain than any orator for Rome. Our three last campaigns had over-run more world than they conquered in a century--and for the Grecians, their story were a pretty theme if the town of St. Albans were waging war with that of Brentford. The horror of the night, the precipice scaled by Wolfe, the empire he with a handful of men added to England, and the glorious catastrophe of contentedly terminating life where his fame began--ancient story may be ransacked, and ostentatious philosophy thrown into the account, before an episode can be found to rank with Wolfe’s. Beckford commended General Townshend, and hoped some thanks would be given to those who completed the conquest. Sir William Williams enlarged on the praise of Wolfe. Lord North, in a more manly style, said it was a proof of Mr. Pitt’s abilities, that they sat there securely discerning rewards, while the French Fleet was sailed from Brest. For Wolfe he had paid his debt of expectation. Pitt then moved, in general words, for thanks to the Generals and Admirals; mentioned them all, particularly Admiral Saunders, whose merit, he said, had equalled those who have beaten Armadas--“May I anticipate?” cried he, “those who _will_ beat Armadas!” He expatiated more largely on Townshend, who, he said, had gone unrequested whither the invited never came. This was far from being strictly the fact. Townshend had gone unwillingly; sent even, as was believed, by Mr. Pitt, who wished to get rid of so troublesome a man. George Grenville put an end to the day in an affecting manner; mentioning the death of his younger brother Thomas, who, in the preceding war, had fallen with expressions of content[74] on a day of victory. Mr. Pitt’s anticipation of Saunders’s renown _was_ prophetic. That Admiral was a pattern of most steady bravery, united with the most unaffected modesty. No man said less or deserved more. Simplicity in his manners, generosity, and good-nature, adorned his genuine love of his country. His services at Quebec had been eminent. Returning thence, he heard that Monsieur Conflans had taken the opportunity of Sir Edward Hawke’s retiring to Gibraltar to refit, and had sailed out of Brest. Saunders, who heard the news at Plymouth, far from thinking he had done enough, turned back instantaneously, and sailed to assist Hawke. His patriotism dictated that step, and would not wait for other orders. He arrived too late--but a moment so embraced could not be accounted lost. Such, too, was the age, that England did not want the addition of a Saunders!