endeavour after the same elevation of mind. Esop is dead, but his frog
and his ox are still to be found.

At this interview, the conversation turned on the last debate in both
houses, in which the merits of the speakers were canvassed, and
his lordship was severe to virulence against his opponents. He had
harangued in the upper house himself; but as his delivery, for it
could not be called elocution, was slow, hesitating, and confused, no
one ventured to mention his speech.

This was a severe mortification. Among his mistakes, that of believing
himself an accomplished orator was not the least conspicuous. Unable
any longer to support their silence, he quoted his speech himself:
though, with that candor which was continually at the tip of his
tongue, he acknowledged it was possible perhaps for him to have
delivered his sentiments in a more terse and pointed manner. 'But no
man', said he, addressing himself to Mr. *** 'no man knows better than
you, how arduous a task it is to speak with eloquence.'

Mr. *** was dumb: but the appellant and the appellee were relieved by
the less delicate intervention of one of the company; who declared,
perhaps with malicious irony, he never heard his lordship to
greater advantage. 'Do you think so,' said the peer, turning to his
panegyrist. 'No. I believe you are mistaken. I never can satisfy
myself! I am so fastidious in the choice of my phrases! I dislike this
word, I reject that, and do not know where to find one that pleases
me. I certainly think, for my part, that I spoke vilely. The duke
indeed and lord Piper both declared they never heard me greater: but I
cannot believe it. Though Sir Francis, who went to the house purposely
to hear me, positively swears it was the first speech I ever made: the