e as he turned his horses, "perhaps some day, I shall remember
what you told us at Brooks's."

It was thus, boyishly, that Mr. Fox chose to take me into his
confidence, an honour which I shall remember with a thrill to my dying
day. So did he reveal to me the impulses of his early life, hidden
forever from his detractors. How little does the censure of this world
count, which cannot see the heart behind the embroidered waistcoat! When
Charles Fox began his career he was a thoughtless lad, but steadfast to
such principles as he had formed for himself. They were not many, but,
compared to those of the arena which he entered, they were noble. He
strove to serve his friends, to lift the name of a father from whom he
had received nothing but kindness, however misguided. And when he saw at
length the error of his ways, what a mighty blow did he strike for the
right!

"Here is a man," said Dr. Johnson, many years afterwards, "who has
divided his kingdom with Caesar; so that it was a doubt whether the
nation should be ruled by the sceptre of George the Third or the tongue
of Fox."

CHAPTER XL. VAUXHALL

Matters had come to a pretty pickle indeed. I was openly warned at
Brooks's and elsewhere to beware of the duke, who was said upon various
authority to be sulking in Hanover Square, his rage all the more
dangerous because it was smouldering. I saw Dolly only casually before
the party to Vauxhall. Needless to say, she flew in the face of Dr.
James's authority, and went everywhere. She was at Lady Bunbury's drum,
whither I had gone in another fruitless chase after Mr. Marmaduke.
Dr. Warner's verse was the laughter of the company. And, greatly to my
annoyance,--in the circumstances,--I was made a hero of, and showered
with three times as many invitations as I could accept.

The whole story got abroad, even to the awakening of the duke in Covent
Garden. And that clownish Mr. Foote, of the Haymarket, had added some
lines to a silly popular song entitled 'The Sights o' Lunnun', with
which I was hailed at Mrs. Betty's fruit-stall in St. James's Street.
Here is one of the verses:

"In Maryland, he hunts the Fox
From dewy Morn till Day grows dim;
At Home he finds a Paradox,
From Noon till Dawn the Fox hunts him."

Charles Fox laughed when he heard it. But he was serious when he came to
speak of Chartersea, and bade me look out for assassination. I had Banks
follow me abroad at night with a b