compared with which the conspiracy of Catiline was but the impotent
uprising of an angry dwarf.

Lord Lyndhurst was called to the bar of England in 1804. It was before
the splendid forensic successes of Erskine had been rewarded by a seat
on the wool-sack, or Wellington had completed his brilliant and decisive
campaign in India, or the military glory of Napoleon had culminated at
Austerlitz, or Pitt, turning sadly from the map of Europe and saying,
"Henceforth we may close that map for half a century," had gone
broken-hearted to an early grave, or Nelson had defeated the combined
navies of France and Spain at Trafalgar. Lord Byron had not yet entered
Cambridge University, Sir Walter Scott had not published his first poem,
and Canova was still in the height of his well-earned fame. It was
before the first steamboat of Robert Fulton had vexed the quiet waters
of the Hudson, or Aaron Burr had failed in his attempted treason, or
Daniel Welter had entered upon his professional career, or Thomas
Jefferson had completed his first official term as President of the
United States.

Lord Lyndhurst's advancement to the highest honors of his profession and
to a commanding place in the councils of his adopted country was rapid
almost beyond precedent. He was appointed Solicitor-General in 1819,
Attorney-General in 1823, Master of the Rolls in 1826, and
Lord-Chancellor in 1827. He remained in this office until 1830, and
retired only to be created Lord-Chief-Baron of the Exchequer. In 1835 he
was again appointed Lord-Chancellor, and once more, for the third time,
in 1841.

The characteristic qualities of the oratory of Lord Lyndhurst, when in
his prime, were perfect coolness and self-possession, a most pleasing