t he who suits the one to betake himself to the other is
more likely to destroy than to save himself.' Nothing that Machiavelli
wrote is more sincere, analytic, positive and ruthless. He operates
unflinchingly on an assured diagnosis. The hand never an instant
falters, the knife is never blunt. He deals with what is, and not with
what ought to be. Should the Prince be all-virtuous, all-liberal,
all-humane? Should his word be his bond for ever? Should true religion
be the master-passion of his life? Machiavelli considers. The first duty
of the Prince (or Government) is to maintain the existence, stability,
and prosperity of the State. Now if all the world were perfect so should
the Prince be perfect too. But such are not the conditions of human
life. An idealising Prince must fall before a practising world. A Prince
must learn in self-defence how to be bad, but like Caesar Borgia, he must
be a great judge of occasion. And what evil he does must be deliberate,
appropriate, and calculated, and done, not selfishly, but for the good
of the State of which he is trustee. There is the power of Law and the
power of Force. The first is proper to men, the second to beasts. And
that is why Achilles was brought up by Cheiron the Centaur that he might
learn to use both natures. A ruler must be half lion and half fox, a fox
to discern the toils, a lion to drive off the wolves. Merciful,
faithful, humane, religious, just, these he may be and above all should
seem to be, nor should any word escape his lips to give the lie to his
professions: and in fact he should not leave these qualities but when he
must. He should, if possible, practise goodness, but under necessity
should know how to pursue evil. He should keep faith until occasion
alter, or reason of state compel him to break his pledge. Above all he
should profess and observe religion, 'because men in general judge
rather by the eye than by the hand, and every one can see but few can
touch.' But none the less, must he learn (as did William the Silent,
Elizabeth of England, and Henry of Navarre) how to subordinate creed to
policy when urgent need is upon him. In a word, he must realise and face
his own position, and the facts of mankind and of the world. If not
veracious to his conscience, he must be veracious to facts. He must not
be bad for badness' sake, but seeing things as they are, must deal as he
can to protect and preserve the trust committed to his care. Fortune is
still a fi