justified myself, by reason and by great authorities too, if I had
made early provision, at least to be safe when I should be no longer
useful. How I could have secured this point I do not think fit to
explain: but certain it is that I made no one step towards it. I
resolved not to abandon my party by turning Whig, or, which is worse
a great deal, whimsical; nor to treat separately from it. I
resolved to keep myself at liberty to act on a Tory bottom. If the
Queen disgraced Oxford and continued to live afterwards, I knew we
should have time and means to provide for our future safety: if the
Queen died, and left us in the same unfortunate circumstances, I
expected to suffer for and with the Tories; and I was prepared for
it.

The thunder had long grumbled in the air; and yet when the bolt
fell, most of our party appeared as much surprised as if they had
had no reason to expect it. There was a perfect calm and universal
submission through the whole kingdom. The Chevalier, indeed, set
out as if his design had been to gain the coast and to embark for
Great Britain; and the Court of France made a merit to themselves of
stopping him and obliging him to return. But this, to my certain
knowledge, was a farce acted by concert, to keep up an opinion of
his character, when all opinion of his cause seemed to be at an end.
He owned this concert to me at Bar, on the occasion of my telling
him that he would have found no party ready to receive him, and that
the enterprise would have been to the last degree extravagant. He
was at this time far from having any encouragement: no party
numerous enough to make the least disturbance was formed in his
favour. On the King's arrival the storm arose. The menaces of the
Whigs, backed by some very rash declarations, by little
circumstances of humour which frequently offend more than real