brought at the last, almost in perfect exactness, the fulfilment of that
impossible prophecy.

[Sidenote: The Attack.]

There is no great book in the world of smaller compass than _The Prince_
of Machiavelli. There is no book more lucidly, directly, and plainly
written. There is no book that has aroused more vehement, venomous, and
even truculent controversy from the moment of its publication until
to-day. And it is asserted with great probability that _The Prince_ has
had a more direct action upon real life than any other book in the
world, and a larger share in breaking the chains and lighting the dark
places of the Middle Ages. It is a truism to say that Machiavellism
existed before Machiavelli. The politics of Gian Galeazzo Visconti, of
Louis XI. of France, of Ferdinand of Spain, of the Papacy, of Venice,
might have been dictated by the author of _The Prince_. But Machiavelli
was the first to observe, to compare, to diagnose, to analyse, and to
formulate their principles of government. The first to establish, not a
divorce, but rather a judicial separation between the morals of a man
and the morals of a government. It is around the purpose and possible
results of such a separation in politics, ethics, and religion that the
storm has raged most fiercely. To follow the path of that storm through
near four centuries many volumes would be needed, and it will be more
convenient to deal with the more general questions in summing up the
influence of Machiavelli as a whole. But the main lines and varying
fortunes of the long campaign may be indicated. During the period of its
manuscript circulation and for a few years after its publication _The
Prince_ was treated with favour or at worst with indifference, and the
first mutterings were merely personal to the author. He was a scurvy
knave and turncoat with neither bowels nor conscience, almost