and avenging himself on his enemies.  When he regained his liberty, he stood alone in the world, a dishonoured man, more hated by the Whigs than any Tory, and by the Tories than any Whig, and reduced to such poverty that he talked of retiring to the country, living like a farmer, and putting his Countess into the dairy to churn and to make cheeses.  Yet even after this fall, that mounting spirit rose again, and rose higher than ever.  When he next appeared before the world, he had inherited the earldom of the head of his family; he had ceased to be called by the tarnished name of Monmouth; and he soon added new lustre to the name of Peterborough.  He was still all air and fire.  His ready wit and his dauntless courage made him formidable; some amiable qualities which contrasted strangely with his vices, and some great exploits of which the effect was heightened by the careless levity with which they were performed, made him popular; and his countrymen were willing to forget that a hero of whose achievements they were proud, and who was not more distinguished by parts and valour than by courtesy and generosity, had stooped to tricks worthy of the pillory.

It is interesting and instructive to compare the fate of Shrewsbury with the fate of Peterborough.  The honour of Shrewsbury was safe.  He had been triumphantly acquitted of the charges contained in Fenwick’s confession.  He was soon afterwards still more triumphantly acquitted of a still more odious charge.  A wretched spy named Matthew Smith, who thought that he had not been sufficiently rewarded, and was bent on being revenged, affirmed that Shrewsbury had received early information of the Assassination Plot, but had suppressed that information, and had taken no measures to prevent the conspirators from accomplishing their design.  That this was a foul calumny no person who has examined the evidence can doubt.  The King declared that he could himself prove his minister’s innocence; and the Peers, after examining Smith, pronounced the accusation unfounded.  Shrewsbury was cleared as far as it was in the power of the Crown and of the Parliament to clear him.  He had power and wealth, the favour of the King and the favour of the people.  No man had a greater number of devoted friends.  He was the idol of the Whigs; yet he was not personally disliked by the Tories.  It should seem that his situation was one which Peterborough might well have envied.  But happiness and misery are from within.  Peterborough had one of those minds of which the deepest wounds heal and leave no scar.  Shrewsbury had one of those minds in which the slightest scratch may fester to the death.  He had been publicly accused of corresponding with Saint Germains; and, though King, Lords and Commons had pronounced him innocent, his conscience told him that he was guilty.  The praises which he knew that he had not deserved sounded to him like reproaches.  He never regained his lost peace of mind.  He left office; but one cruel