“. . . I dined at Sefton’s with the ladies, Brougham and Ferguson before four, and was in the House some time before Castlereagh began; and when he did turn off, such hash was never delivered by man. The folly of him—his speech as a composition in its attempt at style and ornament and figures, and in its real vulgarity, bombast and folly, was such as, coming from a man of his order, with 30 years’ parliamentary experience and with an audience quite at his devotion, was such as I say amounted to a perfect miracle. To be sure our Brougham as a rival artist with him in talent and composition, play’d the devil with him, and made a great display. . . . I thought I should have died with laughing when Castlereagh spoke gravely and handsomely of the encreased cleanliness of the country from the encreased excise revenue of soap. . . .”
