ing in the science of
human nature, he assumed the character of a listener, and none was ever
more attentive. Not to awaken suspicion he was flattering ad nauseum,
insinuating as a perfume, and cajoling as a woman.

Des Lupeaulx was just forty years old. His youth had long been a
vexation to him, for he felt that the making of his career depended on
his becoming a deputy. How had he reached his present position? may
be asked. By very simple means. He began by taking charge of certain
delicate missions which can be given neither to a man who respects
himself nor to a man who does not respect himself, but are confided to
grave and enigmatic individuals who can be acknowledged or disavowed
at will. His business was that of being always compromised; but his
fortunes were pushed as much by defeat as by success. He well understood
that under the Restoration, a period of continual compromises between
men, between things, between accomplished facts and other facts looking
on the horizon, it was all-important for the ruling powers to have a
household drudge. Observe in a family some old charwoman who can make
beds, sweep the floors, carry away the dirty linen, who knows where
the silver is kept, how the creditors should be pacified, what persons
should be let in and who must be kept out of the house, and such a
creature, even if she has all the vices, and is dirty, decrepit, and
toothless, or puts into the lottery and steals thirty sous a day for
her stake, and you will find the masters like her from habit, talk and
consult in her hearing upon even critical matters; she comes and goes,
suggests resources, gets on the scent of secrets, brings the rouge
or the shawl at the right moment, lets herself be scolded and pushed
downstairs, and the next morning reappears smiling with an excellent
bouillon. No matter how high a statesman may stand, he is certain
to have some household drudge, before whom he is weak, undecided,
disputations with fate, self-questioning, self-answering, and buckling
for the fight. Such a familiar is like the soft wood of savages,
which, when rubbed against the hard wood, strikes fire. Sometimes great
geniuses illumine themselves in this way. Napoleon lived with Berthier,
Richelieu with Pere Joseph; des Lupeaulx was the familiar of everybody.
He continued friends with fallen ministers and made himself their
intermediary with their successors, diffusing thus the perfume of
the last flattery and the first compli