Were there to be no more places and pensions, because Mr. Tooke’s style was terse and epigrammatic?  Were the Opposition benches to be inflamed to an unusual pitch of “sacred vehemence,” because he gave them plainly to understand there was not a pin to choose between Ministers and Opposition?  Would the House let him remain among them, because, if they turned him out on account of his black coat, Lord Camelford had threatened to send his black servant in his place?  This was a good joke, but not a practical one.  Would he gain the affections of the people out of doors, by scouting the question of reform?  Would the King ever relish the old associate of Wilkes?  What interest, then, what party did he represent?  He represented nobody but himself.  He was an example of an ingenious man, a clever talker, but he was out of his place in the House of Commons; where people did not come (as in his own house) to admire or break a lance with him, but to get through the business of the day, and so adjourn!  He wanted effect and momentum.  Each of his sentences told very well in itself, but they did not all together make a speech.  He left off where he began.  His eloquence was a succession of drops, not a stream.  His arguments, though subtle and new, did not affect the main body of the question.  The coldness and pettiness of his manner did not warm the hearts or expand the understandings of his hearers.  Instead of encouraging, he checked the ardour of his friends; and teazed, instead of overpowering his antagonists.  The only palpable hit he ever made, while he remained there, was the comparing his own situation in being rejected by the House, on account of the supposed purity of his clerical character, to the story of the girl at the Magdalen, who was told “she must turn out and qualify."[A] This met with laughter and loud applause.  It was a home thrust, and the House (to do them justice) are obliged to any one who, by a smart blow, relieves them of the load of grave responsibility, which sits heavy on their shoulders.—­At the hustings, or as an election-candidate, Mr. Tooke did better.  There was no great question to move or carry—­it was an affair of political sparring between himself and the other candidates.  He took it in a very cool and leisurely manner—­watched his competitors with a wary, sarcastic eye; picked up the mistakes or absurdities that fell from them, and retorted them on their heads; told a story to the mob; and smiled and took snuff with a gentlemanly and becoming air, as if he was already seated in the House.  But a Court of Law was the place where Mr. Tooke made the best figure in public.  He might assuredly be said to be “native and endued unto that element.”  He had here to stand merely on the defensive—­not to advance himself, but to block up the way—­not to impress others, but to be himself impenetrable.  All he wanted was negative success; and to this no one was better qualified to aspire.  Cross