Cardinal de Richelieu was well descended; his merit sparkled even in his youth.  He was taken notice of at the Sorbonne, and it was very soon observed that he had a strong genius and a lively fancy.  He was commonly happy in the choice of his parties.  He was a man of his word, unless great interests swayed him to the contrary, and in such a case he was very artful to preserve all the appearances of probity.  He was not liberal, yet he gave more than he promised, and knew admirably well how to season all his favours.  He was more ambitious than was consistent with the rules of morality, although it must be owned that, whenever he dispensed with them in favour of his extravagant ambition, his great merit made it almost excusable.  He neither feared dangers nor yet despised them, and prevented more by his sagacity than he surmounted by his resolution.  He was a hearty friend, and even wished to be beloved by the people; but though he had civility, a good aspect, and all the other qualifications to gain that love, yet he still wanted something—­I know not what to call it—­which is absolutely necessary in this case.  By his power and royal state he debased and swallowed up the personal majesty of the King.  He distinguished more judiciously than any man in the world between bad and worse, good and better, which is a great qualification in a minister.  He was too apt to be impatient at mere trifles when they had relation to things of moment; but those blemishes, owing to his lofty spirit, were always accompanied with the necessary talent of knowledge to make amends for those imperfections.  He had religion enough for this world.  His own good sense, or else his inclination, always led him to the practice of virtue if his self-interest did not bias him to evil, which, whenever he committed it, he did so knowingly.  He extended his concern for the State no further than his own life, though no minister ever did more than he to make the world believe he had the same regard for the future.  In a word, all his vices were such that they received a lustre from his great fortune, because they were such as could have no other instruments to work with but great virtues.  You will easily conceive that a man who possessed such excellent qualities, and appeared to have as many more,—­which he had not,—­found it no hard task to preserve that respect among mankind which freed him from contempt, though not from hatred.

Cardinal Mazarin’s character was the reverse of the former; his birth was mean, and his youth scandalous.  He was thrashed by one Moretto, a goldsmith of Rome, as he was going out of the amphitheatre, for having played the sharper.  He was a captain in a foot regiment, and Bagni, his general, told me that while he was under his command, which was but three months, he was only looked upon as a cheat.  By the interest of Cardinal Antonio Barberini, he was sent as Nuncio Extraordinary to France, which office was not obtained