y replace slaves by slaves,
Machiavelli considers the best method of subjugating Free Cities. Here
again is eminent the terrible composure and the exact truth of his
politics. A conquered Free City you may of course rule in person, or you
may construct an oligarchy to govern for you, but the only safe way is
to destroy it utterly, since 'that name of Liberty, those ancient usages
of Freedom,' are things 'which no length of years and no benefits can
extinguish in the nation's mind, things which no pains or forethought
can uproot unless the citizens be utterly destroyed.'

Hitherto the discussion has ranged round the material politics of the
matter, the acquisition of material power. Machiavelli now turns to the
heart of his matter, the proper character and conduct of a new Prince in
a new Principality and the ways by which he shall deal most fortunately
with friend and foe. For fortune it is, as well as ability, which go to
the making of the man and the maintenance of his power.

[Sidenote: Caesar Borgia.]

In the manner of the day Moses, Cyrus, Romulus, and Theseus are led
across the stage in illustration. The common attribute of all such
fortunate masters of men was force of arms, while the mission of an
unarmed prophet such as Savonarola was foredoomed to failure. In such
politics Machiavelli is positive and ruthless: force is and must be the
remedy and the last appeal, a principle which indeed no later generation
has in practice set at naught. But in the hard dry eyes of the
Florentine Secretary stood, above all others, one shining figure, a
figure to all other eyes, from then till now, wrapped in mysterious and
miasmatic cloud. In the pages of common history he was a tyrant, he was
vicious beyond compare, he was cruel beyond the Inquisition, he was
false beyond the Father of Lies, he was the Antichrist of Rome and he
was a failure: but he was the hero of Niccolo Machiavelli, who, indeed,
found in Caesar Borgia the fine flower of Italian politics in the Age of
the Despots. Son of the Pope, a Prince of the Church, a Duke of France,
a master of events, a born soldier, diplomatist, and more than half a
statesman, Caesar seemed indeed the darling of gods and men whom original
fortune had crowned with inborn ability. Machiavelli knew him as well as
it was possible to know a soul so tortuous and secret, and he had been
present at the most critical and terrible moments of Caesar's life. That
in despite of a life which the