That winter we fought under the allied standards of Lord North and Mr.Fox: we triumphed over Lord Shelburne and the peace, and my friend (_i.e._ Lord North) remounted his steed in the quality of a secretary of state.

Now he can easily say to me, 'It was a great deal for me, it was nothing for you;' and in spite of the strongest assurances, I have too much reason to allow me to have much faith.
With great genius and very respectable talents, he has now neither the title nor the credit of prime minister; more active colleagues carry off the most savoury morsels which their voracious creatures immediately devour; our misfortunes and reforms have diminished the number of favours; either through pride or through indolence I am but a bad suitor, and if at last I obtain something, it may perhaps be on the eve of a fresh revolution, which will in an instant snatch from me that which has cost me so many cares and pains." Such a letter speaks for itself.

Gibbon might well say that he entered parliament without patriotism and without ambition.

The only redeeming feature is the almost cynical frankness with which he openly regards politics from a personal point of view.

However, it may be pleaded that the letter was written to a bosom friend at a moment of great depression, and when Gibbon's pecuniary difficulties were pressing him severely.