Capital also are the best of many anecdotes concerning Eldon and his ecclesiastical patronage. Dating the letter from No. 2, Charlotte Street, Pimlico, the Chancellor's eldest son sent his father the following anonymous epistle:-- "Hear, generous lawyer! hear my prayer, Nor let my freedom make, you stare, In hailing you Jack Scott! Tho' now upon the woolsack placed, With wealth, with power, with title graced, _Once_ nearer was our lot. "Say by what name the hapless bard May best attract your kind regard-- Plain Jack?--Sir John?--or Eldon? Give from your ample store of giving, A starving priest some little living-- The world will cry out 'Well done.' "In vain, without a patron's aid, I've prayed and preached, and preached and prayed-- _Applauded_ but _ill-fed_. Such vain _eclat_ let others share; Alas, I cannot feed on air-- I ask not _praise_, but _bread_." Satisfactorily hoaxed by the rhymer, the Chancellor went to Pimlico in search of the clerical poetaster, and found him not. Prettier and less comic is the story of Miss Bridge's morning call upon Lord Eldon. The Chancellor was sitting in his study over a table of papers when a young and lovely girl--slightly rustic in her attire, slightly embarrassed by the novelty of her position, but thoroughly in command of her wits--entered the room, and walked up to the lawyer's chair. "My dear," said the Chancellor, rising and bowing with old-world courtesy, "who _are_ you?" "Lord Eldon," answered the blushing maiden, "I am Bessie Bridge of Weobly, the daughter of the Vicar of Weobly, and papa has sent me to remind you of a promise which you made him when I was a little baby, and you were a guest in his house on the occasion of your first election as member of Parliament for Weobly." "A promise, my dear young lady?" interposed the Chancellor, trying to recall how he had pledged himself. "Yea, Lord Eldon, a promise. You were standing over my cradle when papa said to you, 'Mr. Scott, promise me that if ever you are Lord Chancellor, when my little girl is a poor clergyman's wife, you will give her husband a living;' and you answered, 'Mr. Bridge, my promise is not worth half-a-crown, but I give it to you, wishing it were worth more.'" Enthusiastically the Chancellor exclaimed, "You are quite right. I admit the obligation. I remember all about it;" and, then, after a pause, archly surveying the damsel, whose graces were the reverse of matronly, he added, "But surely the time for keeping my promise has not yet arrived? You cannot be any one's wife at present?" For a few seconds Bessie hesitated for an answer, and then, with a blush and a ripple of silver laughter she replied, "No, but I do so wish to be _somebody's_ wife. I am engaged to a young clergyman; and there's a living in Herefordshire near my old home that has recently fallen