Much, doubtless, is due to that personal fascination which made him the inspiration of men so different as Pope and Voltaire; and the man who could supply ideas to Chatham and Disraeli cannot be wholly devoid of merit.

Certainly he wrote well, in that easy elegance of style which was the delight of the eighteenth century; and he is consistently happy in his choice of adjectives.

But his work is at every point embellished with that affectation of classical learning which was the curse of his age.

He sought no general truths, and he is free from the accusation of sincerity.

Nor has he any enthusiasm save that of bitter partisanship.