Far, very far from it.  Where ever was there a man, who pushed dissipation and debauchery to a greater length, than my lord Bolingbroke?  And yet it is perhaps difficult to say, whether there ever existed a more industrious, or an abler minister.  The peace of Utrecht, concluded amidst a thousand difficulties, from our allies abroad, and our parties, that were never so much exasperated against each other at home; must ever remain the monument of his glory.  His opposition to sir Robert Walpole seems evidently to have been founded upon the most generous principles.  And though the warmth and ebullition of his passions evermore broke in upon his happiest attempts, yet were his exertions in both instances attended with the most salutary consequences.  But Mr. Fox appears to me to possess all the excellencies, without any of the defects of lord Bolingbroke.  His passions have, I believe, never been suspected of having embroiled the affairs of his party, and he has uniformly retained the confidence of them all.  His friendships have been solid and unshaken.  His conduct cool and intrepid.  The littleness of jealousy never discoloured a conception of his heart.  In office he was more constant and indefatigable, than lord Bolingbroke himself.  All his lesser pursuits seemed annihilated, and he was swallowed up in the direction of public affairs.

He has been accused of ambition.  Ambition is a very ambiguous term.  In its lowest sense, it sinks the meanest, and degrades the dirtiest of our race.  In its highest, I cannot agree with those who stile it the defect of noble minds.  I esteem it worthy of the loudest commendation, and the most assiduous culture.  Mr. Fox’s is certainly not an ambition of emolument.  Nobody dreams it.  It is not an ambition, that can be gratified by the distribution of places and pensions.  This is a passion, that can only dwell in the weakest and most imbecil minds.  Its necessary concomitants, are official inattention and oscitancy.  No.  The ambition of this hero is a generous thirst of fame, and a desire of possessing the opportunity of conferring the most lasting benefits upon his country.  It is an instinct, that carries a man forward into the field of fitness, and of God.

The vulgar, incapable of comprehending these exalted passions, are apt upon the slightest occasions to suspect, that this heroical language is only held out to them for a lure, and that the most illustrious characters among us are really governed by passions, equally incident to the meanest of mankind.  Let such examine the features and the manners of Mr. Fox.  Was that man made for a Jesuit?  Is he capable of the dirty, laborious, insidious tricks of a hypocrite?  Is there not a certain manliness about him, that disdains to mislead?  Are not candour and sincerity, bluntness of manner, and an unstudied air, conspicuous in all he does?—­I know not how far the argument may go with others, with me, I confess, it has much weight.  I believe a man