be achieved, by a national army. The Condottiere system, born of sloth
and luxury, has proved its rottenness. Your hired general is either a
tyrant or a traitor, a bully or a coward. 'In a word the armour of
others is too wide or too strait for us: it falls off us, or it weighs
us down.' And in a fine illustration he compares auxiliary troops to the
armour of Saul which David refused, preferring to fight Goliath with his
sling and stone.

[Sidenote: Conduct of the Prince.]

Having assured the external security of the State, Machiavelli turns
once more to the qualities and conduct of the Prince. So closely packed
are these concluding chapters that it is almost impossible to compress
them further. The author at the outset states his purpose: 'Since it is
my object to write what shall be useful to whosoever understands it, it
seems to me better to follow the practical truth of things rather than
an imaginary view of them. For many Republics and Princedoms have been
imagined that were never seen or known to exist in reality. And the
manner in which we live and in which we ought to live, are things so
wide asunder that 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