declaring himself, at the same time, no saint, no Spartan, no reformer.”[321] His demeanour thoroughly corresponded with these professions. Of very moderate acquirements, he entertained no value for the higher branches of literature, a knowledge of which might have redeemed his common-place mind from vulgarity. Higher tastes might have rendered that flattery revolting, in which he found such delight, that no society in which it was enjoyed could be too low, no characters too reprobate for this minister’s familiar intercourse, whilst they administered to his vanity. With assumed openness of manners, he kept, nevertheless, a careful guard over his real sentiments, whilst he possessed, beyond every other man, the art of diving into those of others. He lowered the attributes of ministerial power, by converting the degeneracy of the times to his own advantage, by his connexion with the monied interests and with stock-jobbing, the only science to which he seems to have applied his mind. His corrupt administration must ever be remembered with disgust by those who wish to see the national character continue on the high footing which it has generally, with some melancholy interruptions, preserved.[322] The Duchess of Marlborough, be it however remembered, could endure the freedom and ill-breeding of Sir Robert Walpole until personal wrongs roused her resentments. Sir Robert owed to her, if we may believe her uncontradicted statement, the appointment of treasurer to the navy, which she procured for him, not much to her credit, since he had at that time been expelled the House of Commons for peculation.[323] She prevailed with difficulty in his behalf, and received acknowledgments from Sir Robert for this service. “Notwithstanding which,” she adds, “at the beginning of his great power with the present family, he used me with all the insolence and folly upon every occasion, as he has treated several, since he has acted as if he were king, which it would be tedious to relate.”[324] The “folly” of which the Duchess complains might be a trait of Walpole’s habitual manners; from the “insolence” which she attributes to him he was generally free, except when irritated beyond endurance in the House of Commons. No man was more liked and less respected. His disposition was not vindictive. His raillery proceeded from a kindly temper, of which refinement formed no feature. His conduct in the domestic relations of life has been greatly extolled, but surely by those who have forgotten his licentiousness of character, which tainted his conjugal life, and the impure example which he gave to his children. It was about a year before the death of George the First that the Duchess and Sir Robert Walpole came to an open rupture. Her influence, and the obligations which he had acknowledged to her grace, had hitherto delayed the hostilities which now commenced.