But it was the other House on which expectation hung. The very uncertainty whether Mr. Pitt’s health would allow him to attend, concurred to augment the impatience of the public on so serious a crisis. The Court, it was true, had purchased an effective number of votes to ratify their treaty; but, could Mr. Pitt appear, he might so expose the negotiation, and give breath to such a flame, that the ministers could not but be anxious till the day was decided, and they knew all that they had to apprehend from Mr. Pitt. Their hopes grew brighter as the debate began, and he did not appear. The probability of his absence augmented as Beckford proposed to refer the preliminaries to a committee of the whole House; a measure that seemed calculated to gain time, and that was seconded by James Grenville, who told the courtiers that it did not look as if they were very desirous of praise, so eager were they to hurry through the question. The demand was opposed by Ellis, Sir Francis Dashwood, and Harris of Salisbury, when the House was alarmed by a shout from without! The doors opened, and at the head of a large acclaiming concourse was seen Mr. Pitt, borne in the arms of his servants, who, setting him down within the bar, he crawled by the help of a crutch, and with the assistance of some few friends, to his seat; not without the sneers of some of Fox’s party. In truth, there was a mixture of the very solemn and the theatric in this apparition. The moment was so well timed, the importance of the man and his services, the languor of his emaciated countenance, and the study bestowed on his dress, were circumstances that struck solemnity into a patriot mind, and did a little furnish ridicule to the hardened and insensible. He was dressed in black velvet, his legs and thighs wrapped in flannel, his feet covered with buskins of black cloth, and his hands with thick gloves. He said a few words in support of the motion for sending the preliminaries to a committee; not in order to give time for raising animosities, but as it was for the dignity of the King and the country to weigh them maturely. Parts of the treaty, he confessed were, beyond his expectation, good; but his mind was wounded by what regarded our trade and our allies. He wished for a committee, that he might call merchants to the bar to state the importance of what we were to keep, of what we were to give away. He would be convinced we were doing right, or he would _inflexibly arraign_. Legge said, he should cavil less than most men, but could not bestow approbation in the lump. Fox answered as briefly, that nothing could ever be finished, if perfection was insisted on. Beckford replied, that the House was as insignificant as a parliament of Paris, if treaties were not laid before them for advice, but only for approbation; and he and Calvert laid themselves out on the defence made by the ministers, that it was the King’s prerogative to conclude peace or war; and, indeed, no occasion was