last, Henry Brougham,
the greatest orator and statesman that perhaps ever enlightened
Parliament, was indebted for his seat to the patronage of a
borough-holding Peer." He first took his seat for Camelford, a
borough in the interest of the Duke of Bedford. In 1812, he contested
Liverpool with Mr. Canning, and failed; and, in the same year, he
was nominated for the Inverkeithing district of Boroughs, and failed
there also. He was, however, subsequently returned for Winchelsea, in
Sussex. During the discussions in parliament respecting the Princess
of Wales, Mr. Brougham, we believe, was honoured with the confidence
of her Royal Highness, and espoused her cause with much effect. His
earliest efforts as a British senator were likewise distinguished
by the same regard to the rights of individuals, and the liberties
of the country, which he has uniformly manifested to the present
time. Nor was he then less firm in opposition to what he deemed the
encroachments of the crown, and the extravagances and abuses of
the government, than he has since proved. His bold denial of the
sovereign's right to the droits of the Admiralty, in 1812, will not
soon be forgotten.

In the early part of 1816, Mr. Brougham brought forward a motion
for preserving and extending the liberty of the press, for which the
ministers, particularly Lord Castlereagh (who knew well how to use
"the delicious essence,") passed on him the highest encomiums; and
miscalculating the firmness of the bepraised, some persons thought the
minister's eulogy a lure for the member's vote; but the result proved
that Mr. Brougham was above all temptation. In the same year he made a
tour on the continent: in France he was the object of much attention;
and he afterwards visited the residence of the Princess of Wales, in
Italy, as was supposed, on a mission of some importance.

In this year also, Mr. Brougham delivered two speeches in parliament,
which are memorable for the truth of their prospective results. In
one of them, on the treaty of the Holy Alliance, occurs the following
almost prophetic passage: "I always think there is something
suspicious in what a French writer calls, '_les abouchemens des
rois_.' When crowned heads meet, the result of their united councils
is not always favourable to the interest of humanity. It is not the
first time that Austria, Russia, and Prussia have laid their heads
together. On a former occasion, after professing a vast regard for
truth,