I do not blame my noble friends, my gentle patrons, for this.

No: if I were forgetful of my interests, if I preferred their pleasure to my happiness and honour, that was any crime, and I deserve the punishment! But, look you,--time went by, and my constitution was broken; debts came upon me; I could not pay; men mistrusted my word; my name in the country fell: With my health, my genius deserted me; I was no longer useful to my party; I lost my seat in parliament; and when I was on a sick-bed--you remember it, Constancy--the bailiffs came, and tore me away for a paltry debt--the value of one of those suppers the Prince used to beg me to give him.

From that time my familiars forsook me!--not a visit, not a kind act, not a service for him whose day of work was over! 'Poor Vernon's character was gone! Shockingly involved--could not perform his promises to his creditors--always so extravagant--quite unprincipled--must give him up!' "In those sentences lies the secret of their conduct.

They did not remember that _for_ them, _by_ them, the character was gone, the promises broken, the ruin incurred! They thought not how I had served them; how my best years had been devoted to advance them--to ennoble their cause in the lying page of History! All this was not thought of: my life was reduced to two epochs--that of use to them--that not.

During the first, I was honoured; during the last, I was left to starve--to rot! Who freed me from prison ?--who protects me now?
One of my 'party'-- my 'noble friends'-- my 'honourable, right honourable friends'?
No! a tradesman whom I once served in my holyday, and who alone, of all the world, forgets me not in my penance.