appear a paragon for sanctity of morals.
praised him for his constant weekly attendance at the morning service.
He was not cruel; but the coldness of his nature left him incapable of compassion.
He had not energetic decision, although he was obstinately selfinterested: as a consequence, he was not vengeful; but when evil thoughts towards others rose up within his breast, they rather served to trouble his own peace with the gall of bitterness.
He would also become unhappy, and grievously repine at disappointment or the ill success of his plans, even while his self-love saved him from remorse.
Nor was he one of the king's friends, nor did he seek advancement by unworthy flattery of the court.1
A good lawyer, and trained in the best and most liberal political school of his day, it was ever his pride to be esteemed a sound Whig,2
making the absolute supremacy of parliament the test of his consistency and the essential element of his creed; and he rose to eminence through the laborious gradations of public service, by a thorough knowledge of its constitution3
and an indefatigable attention to all its business.
Just before his death, after a service in the House of Commons of about thirty years,4
he said with pride that to that house he owed all his distinction; and such was the flattering self-conceit of this austere and rigidly inflexible man, that he ascribed all his eminence to his own merits, which he never regarded as too highly rewarded.
Gratitude, therefore, found no place in his nature; 5