that now the state of things was altered. This discourse needed no
commentary, and proved to me that I had never erred in the judgment
I made of this set of men. Could I then resolve to be obliged to
them, or to suffer with Oxford? As much as I still was heated by
the disputes in which I had been all my life engaged against the
Whigs, I would sooner have chose to owe my security to their
indulgence than to the assistance of the Whimsicals; but I thought
banishment, with all her train of evils, preferable to either. I
abhorred Oxford to that degree that I could not bear to be joined
with him in any case. Nothing, perhaps, contributed so much to
determine me as this sentiment. A sense of honour would not have
permitted me to distinguish between his case and mine own; and it
was worse than death to lie under the necessity of making them the
same, and of taking measures in concert with him.

I am now come to the time at which I left England, and have finished
the first part of that deduction of facts which I proposed to lay
before you. I am hopeful that you will not think it altogether
tedious or unnecessary; for although very little of what I have said
can be new to you, yet this summary account will enable you with
greater ease to recall to your memory the passages of those four
years wherewith all that I am going to relate to you has an
immediate and necessary connection.

In what has been said I am far from making my own panegyric. I had
not in those days so much merit as was ascribed to me, nor since
that time have I had so little as the same persons allowed me. I
committed, without dispute, many faults, and a greater man than I
can pretend to be, constituted in the same circumstances, would not
have kept clear of all; but with respect to the Tories I committed