a young student in a cell by the Cam, poring on the diagrams
which illustrated the newly discovered laws of centripetal and
centrifugal force, writing little copies of verses, and indulging
visions of parsonages with rich glebes, and of closes in old
cathedral towns had developed in him new talents; had held out
to him the hope of prizes of a very different sort from a rectory
or a prebend. His eloquence had gained for him the ear of the
legislature. His skill in fiscal and commercial affairs had won
for him the confidence of the City. During four years he had been
the undisputed leader of the majority of the House of Commons;
and every one of those years he had made memorable by great
parliamentary victories, and by great public services. It should
seem that his success ought to have been gratifying to the
nation, and especially to that assembly of which he was the chief
ornament, of which indeed he might be called the creature. The
representatives of the people ought to have been well pleased to
find that their approbation could, in the new order of things, do
for the man whom they delighted to honour all that the mightiest
of the Tudors could do for Leicester, or the most arbitrary of
the Stuarts for Strafford. But, strange to say, the Commons soon
began to regard with an evil eve that greatness which was their
own work. The fault indeed was partly Montague's. With all his
ability, he had not the wisdom to avert, by suavity and
moderation, that curse, the inseparable concomitant of prosperity
and glory, which the ancients personified under the name of
Nemesis. His head, strong for all the purposes of debate and
arithmetical calculation, was weak against the intoxicating
influence of success and fame. He became proud even to insolence.
Old companions, who, a very few years before, had punned and
rhymed with him in garrets, had dined with him at cheap