The consciousness that he was of plebeian origin was the torment of his life.

He pined for nobility with a pining at once pitiable and ludicrous.

Able, experienced and accomplished as he was, he sometimes, under the influence of this mental disease, descended to the level of Moliere's Jourdain, and entertained malicious observers with scenes almost as laughable as that in which the honest draper was made a Mamamouchi, [169] It would have been well if this had been the worst.
But it is not too much to say that of the difference between right and wrong Avaux had no more notion than a brute.

One sentiment was to him in the place of religion and morality, a superstitious and intolerant devotion to the Crown which he served.

This sentiment pervades all his despatches, and gives a colour to all his thoughts and words.