in
consequence, editions and translations of _The Prince_ multiplied apace.
The great figures of the world were absorbed by it. Charles V., his son,
and his courtiers studied the book. Catherine de Medici brought it to
France. A copy of _The Prince_ was found on the murdered bodies of Henry
III. and Henry IV. Richelieu praised it. Sextus V. analysed it in his
own handwriting. It was read at the English Court; Bacon was steeped in
it, and quotes or alludes to it constantly. Hobbes and Harrington
studied it.

But now another change. So then, cried Innocent Gentillet, the Huguenot,
the book is a primer of despotism and Rome, and a grammar for bigots and
tyrants. It doubtless is answerable for the Massacre of St. Bartholomew.
The man is a _chien impur_. And in answer to this new huntsman the whole
Protestant pack crashed in pursuit. Within fifty years of his death _The
Prince_ and Machiavelli himself had become a legend and a myth, a
haunting, discomforting ghost that would not be laid. Machiavellism had
grown to be a case of conscience both to Catholic and Protestant, to
Theologian, Moralist, and Philosopher. In Spain the author, damned in
France for his despotism and popery, was as freshly and freely damned
for his civil and religious toleration. In England to the Cavaliers he
was an Atheist, to the Roundheads a Jesuit. Christina of Sweden
annotated him with enthusiasm. Frederick the Great published his
_Anti-Machiavel_ brimming with indignation, though it is impossible not
to wonder what would have become of Prussia had not the Prussian king so
closely followed in practice the precepts of the Florentine, above all
perhaps, as Voltaire observed, in the publication of the
_Anti-Machiavel_ itself. No doubt in the eighteenth century, when
monarchy was so firmly established as not to need Machiavelli, kings and
statesmen sought to clear kingship of the supposed stain he had
besmirched them with. But their reading was as little as their
misunderstanding was great, and the Florentine Secretary remained the
mysterious necromancer. It was left for Rousseau to describe the book of
this 'honnete homme et bon citoyen' as 'le livre des Republicains,' and
for Napoleon, the greatest of the author's followers if not disciples,
to draw inspiration and suggestion from his Florentine forerunner and to
justify the murder of the Due d'Enghien by a quotation from _The
Prince_. 'Mais apres tout,' he said, 'un homme d'Etat est-il fait pour
et