The personal always prevails over the intellectual, where the latter is not backed by strong feeling and principle.  Where remote and speculative objects do not excite a predominant interest and passion, gross and immediate ones are sure to carry the day, even in ingenuous and well-disposed minds.  The will yields necessarily to some motive or other; and where the public good or distant consequences excite no sympathy in the breast, either from short-sightedness or an easiness of temperament that shrinks from any violent effort or painful emotion, self-interest, indolence, the opinion of others, a desire to please, the sense of personal obligation, come in and fill up the void of public spirit, patriotism, and humanity.  The best men in the world in their own natural dispositions or in private life (for this reason) often become the most dangerous public characters, from their pliancy to the unruly passions of others, and from their having no set-off in strong moral stamina to the temptations that are held out to them, if, as is frequently the case, they are men of versatile talent or patient industry.—­Lord Eldon has one of the best-natured faces in the world; it is pleasant to meet him in the street, plodding along with an umbrella under his arm, without one trace of pride, of spleen, or discontent in his whole demeanour, void of offence, with almost rustic simplicity and honesty of appearance—­a man that makes friends at first sight, and could hardly make enemies, if he would; and whose only fault is that he cannot say Nay to power, or subject himself to an unkind word or look from a King or a Minister.  He is a thorough-bred Tory.  Others boggle or are at fault in their career, or give back at a pinch, they split into different factions, have various objects to distract them, their private friendships or antipathies stand in their way; but he has never flinched, never gone back, never missed his way, he is an out-and-outer in this respect, his allegiance has been without flaw, like “one entire and perfect chrysolite,” his implicit understanding is a kind of taffeta-lining to the Crown, his servility has assumed an air of the most determined independence, and he has

  “Read his history in a Prince’s eyes!”—­

There has been no stretch of power attempted in his time that he has not seconded:  no existing abuse, so odious or so absurd, that he has not sanctioned it.  He has gone the whole length of the most unpopular designs of Ministers.  When the heavy artillery of interest, power, and prejudice is brought into the field, the paper pellets of the brain go for nothing:  his labyrinth of nice, lady-like doubts explodes like a mine of gun-powder.  The Chancellor may weigh and palter—­the courtier is decided, the politician is firm, and rivetted to his place in the Cabinet!  On all the great questions that have divided party opinion or agitated the public mind, the Chancellor has been found uniformly and without