at the head of affairs in his absence--was forming a party against
him, and was caballing with some of the members of the Government.
Sunderland acted on the King's narrow and petty fears. He distinctly
accused Townshend and Walpole of a secret understanding with the Prince
and the Duke of Argyll against the Sovereign's interests. The result
of all this was that the King dismissed Lord Townshend, and that
Walpole insisted on resigning office. The King, to do him justice,
would gladly have kept Walpole in his service, but Walpole would not
stay. It is clear that Walpole was glad of the opportunity of getting
out of the ministry. He professed to be deeply touched by the
earnestness of the King's remonstrances. He was moved, it is stated,
to tears. At all events, he got very successfully through the ceremony
of tear-shedding. But although he wept, he did not {165} soften. His
purpose remained fixed. He went out of office, and, to all intents and
purposes, passed straightway into opposition. Stanhope became First
Lord of the Treasury and Chancellor of the Exchequer.

For a long time it must have been apparent to every one that Walpole
was the coming minister. Walpole himself must have felt satisfied on
the point; but he was probably well content to admit to himself that
his time had not yet come. Walpole was not a great man. He wanted the
moral qualities which are indispensable to greatness. He was almost as
much wanting in them as Bolingbroke himself. But if his genius was far
less brilliant than that of Bolingbroke, he was amply furnished with
patience and steadiness. He could wait. He did not devise half a
dozen plans for one particular object, and fly from one to the other
when the moment for action was approaching, and end by rejecting them
all when the moment for action had arrived. He made up his mind to a
certain course, and he held to it; if its chance did not come to-day,
it might come to-morrow. He had no belief in men's sincerity--or
women's either. There seems reason to believe that the famous saying
ascribed to him, about every man having his price, was not used by him
in that unlimited sense; that he only spoke of "these men"--of certain
men--and said that every one of them had his price. But he always
acted as if the description he gave of "these men" might safely be
extended to all men. He had a coarse, licentious nature. He enjoyed
the company of loose women. He loved obscene talk;