During the eighteen years which had elapsed between the signing of the Treaty of Dover and the Revolution, all the envoys who had been sent from Whitehall to Versailles had been mere sycophants of the great King.
In England the French ambassador had been the object of a degrading worship.

The chiefs of both the great parties had been his pensioners and his tools.

The ministers of the Crown had paid him open homage.

The leaders of the opposition had stolen into his house by the back door.
Kings had stooped to implore his good offices, had persecuted him for money with the importunity of street beggars; and, when they had succeeded in obtaining from him a box of doubloons or a bill of exchange, had embraced him with tears of gratitude and joy.

But those days were past.