He drifted quickly away from Edinboro’, though long keeping up his connection with the _Review_; became famous as an advocate--notably in connection with Queen Caroline’s trial; went into Parliament; was eventually Lord High Chancellor, and won a place in the Peerage. He was associated intimately, too, with great beneficent schemes--such as the suppression of the slave trade, the establishment of the London University, the founding of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, and the urgence of the great Reform measures of 1832. Yet in all these, he arrogated more than his share of the honor, wearying his associates by incessant bickering and scolding, picking flaws in everything not entirely his own; jealous, suspicious, conceited to the last degree; never generous in praise of one living beside him; an enormous worker, with sinews of iron, and on occasions (which are of record) speaking and wrangling in the House of Commons until two of the morning, and then going home--not to sleep--but to write a thirty-page article for the _Edinburgh Review_. Such men make a place for themselves, and keep it. He was an acrid debater, but a most thorough one--holding all aspects of a case in view; never getting muddled; ready with facts; ready with fallacies (if needed); ready for all and any interruptions; setting them on fire by the stress of his argumentation--like carbons in an electric circuit; ready with storms of irony and running into rough-edged sarcasm with singular ease and sharpest appetite.