invariably pursue the object of that predominant passion?
May I be sure that he will do so and so, because he
ought? Nothing less. Sickness or low spirits,
may damp this predominant passion; humor and peevishness
may triumph over it; inferior passions may, at times,
surprise it and prevail. Is this ambitious statesman
amorous? Indiscreet and unguarded confidences,
made in tender moments, to his wife or his mistress,
may defeat all his schemes. Is he avaricious?
Some great lucrative object, suddenly presenting itself,
may unravel all the work of his ambition. Is he
passionate? Contradiction and provocation (sometimes,
it may be, too, artfully intended) may extort rash
and inconsiderate expressions, or actions destructive
of his main object. Is he vain, and open to flattery?
An artful, flattering favorite may mislead him; and
even laziness may, at certain moments, make him neglect
or omit the necessary steps to that height at which
he wants to arrive. Seek first, then, for the
predominant passion of the character which you mean
to engage and influence, and address yourself to it;
but without defying or despising the inferior passions;
get them in your interest too, for now and then they
will have their turns. In many cases, you may
not have it in your power to contribute to the gratification
of the prevailing passion; then take the next best
to your aid. There are many avenues to every man;
and when you cannot get at him through the great one,
try the serpentine ones, and you will arrive at last.
There are two inconsistent passions, which, however,
frequently accompany each other, like man and wife;
and which, like man and wife too, are commonly clogs
upon each other. I mean ambition and avarice:
the latter is often the true cause of the former,
and then is the predominant passion. It seems
to have been so in Cardinal Mazarin, who did anything,
submitted to anything, and forgave anything, for the
sake of plunder. He loved and courted power,
like a usurer, because it carried profit along with
it. Whoever should have formed his opinion, or
taken his measures, singly, from the ambitious part
of Cardinal Mazarin’s character, would have
found himself often mistaken. Some who had found
this out, made their fortunes by letting him cheat
them at play. On the contrary, Cardinal Richelieu’s
prevailing passion seems to have been ambition, and
his immense riches only the natural consequences of
that ambition gratified; and yet, I make no doubt,
but that ambition had now and then its turn with the
former, and avarice with the latter. Richelieu
(by the way) is so strong a proof of the inconsistency
of human nature, that I cannot help observing to you,
that while he absolutely governed both his king and
his country, and was, in a great degree, the arbiter
of the fate of all Europe, he was more jealous of
the great reputation of Corneille than of the power
of Spain; and more flattered with being thought (what
he was not) the best poet, than with being thought