tyle, threatened to ring again and again "the
alarm-bell of liberty," until he "could rouse the people to a proper
sense of their injuries." Stung by persecution Lord Mansfield suffered
himself to be betrayed into unaccountable error. Intimating one day that
he had something of importance to bring to the notice of the House, he
moved that their Lordships should be summoned to receive the
communication. The appointed day arrived, and the attendance of peers was
unusually large. Lord Mansfield rose amidst profound and anxious silence.
Lord Chatham and Lord Camden had calumniated the judges, and they were
now no doubt to be the objects of a vote of censure. Nothing of the kind.
Lord Mansfield simply informed the House that he had left a paper with
the clerk assistant containing the judgment of the Court of King's Bench
in the case of "the King against Woodfall," and then, to the astonishment
of every one, resumed his seat. Lord Camden rose and inquired whether the
noble lord intended hereafter to found any motion on his paper? Lord
Mansfield answered "No," and the House proceeded to other business. The
very next day Lord Camden resumed the subject. He regarded the conduct of
the Chief Justice as a challenge against himself, and he at once accepted
it. In direct contradiction to Lord Mansfield he maintained that his
doctrine was not the law of England. He had considered the noble lord's
"paper," and had not found it very intelligible. He begged to propose
four questions to the noble and learned lord, to which he required
categorical answers, that their lordships might know precisely the points
they had to discuss. The questions were submitted, and Lord Mansfield,
instead of meeting them, "with most abject soothings," as Horace Walpole
gleefully says, "paid the highest compliments to Lord Camden." He had the
highest esteem for the noble and learned lord who thus attacked him, and
had ever courted his esteem in return. He had not expected this treatment
from his candor. It was unfair; he would not answer interrogatories. The
reply was a signal for relentless torment. Not a peer interposed on his
behalf. Distressed by his misery, Lord Mansfield sat down, remained
still, and in sheer pity for their prey the dogs were called off.

In 1778 Lord Chatham died, and from the departure of the great commoner
until his own decease Lord Mansfield occupied a more conspicuous place as
a judge than as a politician in the public eye. He contin