he greatest degree. The Tories are sulky and
crestfallen; moderate men are vexed, disappointed, grieved; and
the Radicals stand grinning by, chuckling at the sight of the
Conservatives (at least those who so call themselves, and those
who must be so _really_) cutting each others' throats.

[Page Head: LORD ELDON'S GREAT CAREER.]

On Saturday, the day after I came back, I found a final meeting at
the Council Office on the lunacy case, the appeal of Grosvenor
against Drax. There were Lord Lansdowne, the Chancellor,
Vice-Chancellor, Master of the Rolls, Lord Manners, Lord Eldon,
and Lord Lyndhurst. The rule is that the President of the Council
collects the opinions and votes, beginning with the junior Privy
Councillor. This was the Chancellor,[9] who made a sort of apology
for his judgment, stating that he had made the order just after
two or three very flagrant cases of a similar description had been
brought under his notice, and then he went into this case, and
endeavoured to show that there was fraud (and intentional fraud)
on the part of the Grosvenors, and he maintained, without
insisting on, and very mildly, his own former view of the case.
Leach then made a speech strongly against the judgment, and Lord
Eldon made a longish speech, very clear, and very decided against
it, interlarded with professions of his 'sincere' respect for the
person who delivered the judgment. The Chancellor did not reply to
Lord Eldon, but put some questions--some hypothetical, and some
upon parts of the case itself--which, together with some remarks,
brought on a discussion between him and Leach, in which the latter
ended by lashing himself into a rage. 'My Lord,' said he to the
Chancellor, 'we talk too much, and we don't stick to the point.'
Brougham put on one of his scornful smiles, and in reply to
something (I forget what) that the Vice-Chancellor said he dropped
in his sarcastic tone that he would do so and so 'if his Honour
would permit.' For a moment I thought there would be a breeze, but
it ended without any vote, in the adoption of a form of reversal
suggested by Lord Eldon, which left it to the option of the
respondent to institute other proceedings if he should think fit.
Afterwards all was harmony. Eldon seemed tolerably fresh, feeble,
but clear and collected. He was in spirits about the dinner which
had just been given him by the Templars, at which he was received
with extraordinary honours. He said he hoped never to be call