The personal light in which he regarded the question is inexcusable. He had been disappointed and deeply offended by Chatham's political conduct, and he had cause to fear that a whig government would rob him of the power which he loved. As a king he had no right to allow his private feelings to affect his public action. That he did so was the result partly of his system of personal rule, partly of serious defects in his character, his implacability of temper, and his habit of regarding all things as they affected himself. North struggled in vain against his determination, and gave way before it. It is a mistake, however, to regard the king as solely responsible for the continuance of the war. If he is to be blamed because, rather than submit to the loss of the colonies, which nearly all men believed would be the end of England's greatness and prosperity, he determined to carry on the struggle, the blame must be shared by others. Had North been true to his convictions George could not have formed another administration willing to act on the same system. Had the majority of the commons refused to support the king, the constitution afforded the means of over-ruling his will.[139] Questions as to Chatham's return to power were soon to be brought to an end. On April 7 he appeared in the lords after a severe attack of illness, and, in faltering sentences, though with some remains of his peculiar fire, protested against the surrender of the sovereignty of America, "the dismemberment of this ancient and most glorious monarchy". He urged that England should refuse to bow before the house of Bourbon; "if we fall let us fall like men". Richmond answered him by dwelling on the expediency of acknowledging American independence; otherwise, said he, "instead of Great Britain and America against France and Spain, as in the last war, it will now be France, Spain, and America against Great Britain". Chatham rose to reply and fell back in a fit. He died on May 11. Parliament voted him a public funeral, the stately statue which stands in Westminster Abbey, L20,000 for the payment of his debts, and a perpetual pension of L4,000 a year annexed to the earldom of Chatham. Throughout his long career he was invariably courageous and self-reliant; his genius was bold, his conceptions magnificent, his political purity unsullied. His rhetoric was sublime. He did not excel in debate or in prepared speeches. His spirit burned like fire, and his speeches were the outpourings of his heart in words which, while they owed something to art, came spontaneously to his lips, and were not less lofty than his thoughts. As a statesman he had serious defects; he was haughty, vain, and overbearing, his opinions were unsettled, his far-reaching views often nebulous; his passion was stronger than his judgment, and he was immoderately given to bombast. In spite of his true greatness he lacked simplicity, and he imported the arts of a charlatan into political life.