. Bruffam.
This was too much for Brougham, who was rather proud of the form and
antiquity of his name, and who at last, in exasperation, sent a note to
the Chancellor, intimating that his name was pronounced "Broom." At the
conclusion of the argument the Chancellor stated, "Every authority upon
the question has been brought before us: new Brooms sweep clean."

As Lord Chancellor, Lord Eldon's great foible was an apparent inability
to arrive at an early decision on any question: it was really a desire
to weigh carefully all sides of a question before expressing his
opinion. This hesitancy was expressed in the formula "I doubt," which
became the subject of frequent jests among the members of the Bar.

Sir George Rose, in absence of the regular reporter of Lord Eldon's
decisions, was requested to take a note of any decision which should be
given. As a full record of all that was material, which had occurred
during the day, Sir George made the following entry in the reporter's
notebook:

"Mr. Leach made a speech,
Angry, neat, but wrong;
Mr. Hart, on the other part,
Was heavy, dull, and long;
Mr. Parker made the case darker,
Which was dark enough without;
Mr. Cooke cited his book;
And the Chancellor said--I doubt."

This _jeu d'esprit_, flying about Westminster Hall, reached the
Chancellor, who was very much amused with it, notwithstanding the
allusion to his doubting propensity. Soon after, Sir George Rose having
to argue before him a very untenable proposition, he gave his opinion
very gravely, and with infinite grace and felicity thus concluded: "For
these reasons the judgment must be against your clients; and here, Sir
George, the Chancellor does not _doubt_."

The following was Lord Eldon's answer to an application for a piece of
preferment from his old friend Dr. Fisher, of the Charter House:

"DEAR FISHER,--I cannot, to-day, give you the preferment for which you
ask.--I remain, your sincere friend, ELDON." Then, on the other side, "I
gave it to you yesterday."

According to his biographer, Lord Eldon caused a loud laugh while the
old Duke of Norfolk was fast asleep in the House of Lords, and amusing
their lordships with "that tuneful nightingale, his nose," by announcing
from the woolsack, with solemn emphasis, that the Commons had sent up a
bill for "enclosing and dividing Great Snoring in the county of
Norfolk!"

Like Lord Thurlow, Lord Eldon was in close intimacy with Ge