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Lord Brougham died, apparently in his sleep, at Cannes on

Thursday, the 8th inst. We have endeavoured elsewhere to sum up the force and feebleness of his public character, and have succeeded in disinterring from one of the scarcest of books, his suppressed novel, his own estimate of nimself, an estimate which shows how strongly he prided himself on the ruggedness of his character, and the unpleasant abruptness of his manners. Lord Brougham had, we believe, lost the use of his memory some time before his death, and in the last few weeks of his life his mind was awake only for a few seconds at a time. An old acquaintance who called upon him about a month since was informed by his physician that one minute was the longest conversation he could be allowed to sustain.

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