[1] Macaulay’s essay is, of course, brilliant and comprehensive.  I do not agree with his theory of the Italian despot, as I have explained on p. 127 of this volume.  Sometimes, too, he indulges in rhetoric that is merely sentimental, as when he says about the dedication of the Florentine History to Clement:  ’The miseries and humiliations of dependence, the bread which is more bitter than every other food, the stairs which are more painful than every other ascent, had not broken the spirit of Machiavelli. The most corrupting post in a corrupting profession had not depraved the generous heart of Clement.’ The sentence I have printed in italics may perhaps tell the truth about the Church and Popes in general; but the panegyric of Clement is preposterous.  Macaulay must have been laughing in his sleeve.

With regard to the circumstances under which the Prince was composed, enough has been already said.  Machiavelli’s selfish purpose in putting it forth seems to my mind apparent.  He wanted employment:  he despaired of the republic:  he strove to furnish the princes in power with a convincing proof of his capacity for great affairs.  Yet it must not on this account be concluded that the Principe was merely a cheap bid for office.  On the contrary, it contained the most mature and the most splendid of Machiavelli’s thoughts, accumulated through his long years of public service; and, strange as it may seem, it embodied the dream of a philosophical patriot for the restitution of liberty to Italy.  Florence, indeed, was lost.  ‘These Signori Medici’ were in power.  But could not even they be employed to purge the sacred soil of Italy from the Barbarians?

If we can pretend to sound the depths of Machiavelli’s mind at this distance of time, we may conjecture that he had come to believe the free cities too corrupt for independence.  The only chance Italy had of holding her own against the great powers of Europe was by union under a prince.  At the same time the Utopia of this union, with which he closes the Principe, could only be realized by such a combination as would either neutralize the power of the Church, or else gain the Pope for an ally by motives of interest.  Now at the period of the dedication of the Principe to Lorenzo de’ Medici, Leo X. was striving to found a principality in the states of the Church.[1] In 1516 he created his nephew Duke of Urbino, and it was thought that this was but a prelude to still further greatness.  Florence in combination with Rome might do much for Italy.  Leo meanwhile was still young, and his participation in the most ambitious schemes was to be expected.  Thus the moment was propitious for suggesting to Lorenzo that he should put himself at the head of an Italian kingdom, which, by its union beneath the strong will of a single prince, might suffice to cope with nations more potent in numbers and in arms.[2] The Principe was therefore dedicated in good faith to the Medici, and the note