suspected. The folly of his professions was the only chance he had for not being thought a deep politician, for who could believe that such palpable duplicity was the offspring of anything but of want of sense? He not only had no principles, but was ready for any crime that suited his plans, which seemed drawn from histories of the worst ages—for he was rather a pedant in villany, than a politician who adapted himself to the times in which he lived. Thus a Catiline or a Borgia were his models in an age when half their wickedness would have suited his purpose better—for when refinements have taken the place of horrid crimes, and the manners of men are rather corrupt than flagitious, excess of profligacy is more destructive to ambition than serviceable. He determined to be Prime Minister by any means, but forgot that, in a country where faction has any weight, character is a necessary ingredient towards acquiring or preserving power. The King hated him, all the higher orders knew him, and the people could have no favourable opinion of him. To combat hatred, suspicion, and at best indifference, he had no arms but a resolution of recommending himself to the King by unbounded flattery and servility, and the power and mercy of the Crown he trusted would maintain him against all other sinister impressions."—Walpole, Journals, ii. 566.
