He should, on this the occasion of his rising to his maiden legs, have either prepared for himself a short general speech, which could indeed have done little for his credit in the House, but which might have served to carry off the novelty of the thing, and have introduced him to the sound of his own voice within those walls,--or he should have trusted to what his wit and spirit would produce for him on the spur of the moment, and not have burdened himself with a huge exercise of memory.

During the presentation of a few petitions he tried to repeat to himself the first of his compact parts,--a compact part on which, as it might certainly be brought into use let the debate have gone as it might, he had expended great care.

He had flattered himself that there was something of real strength in his words as he repeated them to himself in the comfortable seclusion of his own room, and he had made them so ready to his tongue that he thought it to be impossible that he should forget even an intonation.

Now he found that he could not remember the first phrases without unloosing and looking at a small roll of paper which he held furtively in his hand.

What was the good of looking at it?
He would forget it again in the next moment.