ard. He had probably never read a book in his life.
He knew nothing of the working of parliament, nothing of nationality,--
had no preference whatever for one form of government over another,
never having given his mind a moment's trouble on the subject. He had
not even reflected how a despotic monarch or a federal republic might
affect himself, and possibly did not comprehend the meaning of those
terms. But yet he was fully confident that England did demand and
ought to demand that Mr Melmotte should be returned for Westminster.
This man was Mr Melmotte himself.

In this conjunction of his affairs Mr Melmotte certainly lost his
head. He had audacity almost sufficient for the very dangerous game
which he was playing; but, as crisis heaped itself upon crisis, he
became deficient in prudence. He did not hesitate to speak of himself
as the man who ought to represent Westminster, and of those who
opposed him as little malignant beings who had mean interests of their
own to serve. He went about in his open carriage, with Lord Alfred at
his left hand, with a look on his face which seemed to imply that
Westminster was not good enough for him. He even hinted to certain
political friends that at the next general election he should try the
City. Six months since he had been a humble man to a Lord,--but now
he scolded Earls and snubbed Dukes, and yet did it in a manner which
showed how proud he was of connecting himself with their social
pre-eminence, and how ignorant of the manner in which such
pre-eminence affects English gentlemen generally. The more arrogant he
became the more vulgar he was, till even Lord Alfred would almost be
tempted to rush away to impecuniosity and freedom. Perhaps there were
some with whom this conduct had a salutary effect. No doubt arrogance
will produce submission; and there are men who take other men at the
price those other men put upon themselves. Such persons could not
refrain from thinking Melmotte to be mighty because he swaggered; and
gave their hinder parts to be kicked merely because he put up his toe.
We all know men of this calibre,--and how they seem to grow in number.
But the net result of his personal demeanour was injurious; and it was
debated among some of the warmest of his supporters whether a hint
should not be given him. 'Couldn't Lord Alfred say a word to him?'
said the Honourable Beauchamp Beauclerk, who, himself in Parliament, a
leading man in his party, thoroughly well acquaint