at gives
motion to the whole, we have an infinity of little wheels, which, in
their turns, retard, precipitate, and sometimes stop that motion. Let us
exemplify. I will suppose ambition to be (as it commonly is) the
predominant passion of a minister of state; and I will suppose that
minister to be an able one. Will he, therefore, 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 Car