when he died, Baker contented himself with a simple intimation of the
fact.

If my reading of this letter is right, it might stand as a type of the
most strongly marked characteristic in Defoe's political writings. It
was a masterly and utterly unscrupulous piece of diplomacy for the
attainment of a just and benevolent end. This may appear strange after
what I have said about Defoe's want of honesty, yet one cannot help
coming to this conclusion in looking back at his political career before
his character underwent its final degradation. He was a great, a truly
great liar, perhaps the greatest liar that ever lived. His dishonesty
went too deep to be called superficial, yet, if we go deeper still in
his rich and strangely mixed nature, we come upon stubborn foundations
of conscience. Among contemporary comments on the occasion of his death,
there was one which gave perfect expression to his political position.
"His knowledge of men, especially those in high life (with whom he was
formerly very conversant) had weakened his attachment to any political
party; but, in the main, he was in the interest of civil and religious
liberty, in behalf of which he appeared on several remarkable
occasions." The men of the time with whom Defoe was brought into
contact, were not good examples to him. The standard of political
morality was probably never so low in England as during his lifetime.
Places were dependent on the favour of the Sovereign, and the
Sovereign's own seat on the throne was insecure; there was no party
cohesion to keep politicians consistent, and every man fought for his
own hand. Defoe had been behind the scenes, witnessed many curious
changes of service, and heard many authentic tales of jealousy,
intrigue, and treachery. He had seen Jacobites take office under
William, join zealously in the scramble for his favours, and enter into
negotiations with the emissaries of James either upon some fancied