sometimes for a whole night, in a space just big enough to allow them to go in and come out; tell me, I say, if that is a sort of thing which can be beneficial to the health of little girls whose blood flows so fast, and who require so much oxygen; and whether, on the contrary, it is not one's duty to keep them away from such scenes?

There may be amusement there, I know; but the best pleasures are those for which one does not pay too dearly. I have seen the very wax lights faint and turn pale all at once, in the very midst of those murderous assemblies, as if to warn the imprudent guests that there was only just time to open the windows.

And this reminds me of a point I had nearly forgotten. Wax-candles are like ourselves. In order to burn they must have oxygen, and, like us, they are extinguished by carbonic acid. But like us also- and indeed to a greater extent, because they consume much more charcoal at once-they manufacture carbonic acid. Hence that very illumination which affords the company so much pleasure and pride is plainly an additional cause of danger. Each of those wax-lights which are spread around with such a prodigal hand, the only fear being that there may not be enough of them, is a hungry intruder employed in devouring with all his might the scanty amount of oxygen provided for the consumption of the guests.

From each of those cheerful flames the suns as it were, of the festive assembly-shoots out a strong jet of carbonic acid, contributing by so much to swell out the already formid able streams of poisoned gas, exhaled to the utmost extent by the dancers. And wait- there is still something else I was forgetting. You dance. And I told you last time at what cost you have to dance. You have to make the fire burn much quicker than usual, that is, to consume a great deal more oxygen at once, and so you double and treble the activity of the carbonic acid manufacture: and this just at the moment when it would be so convenient that it should go on as slowly as possible! After this, you need not be surprised that people should look fagged and exhausted next morning. What astonishes me is that they are not obliged to lie in bed altogether, after treating their poor lungs to such an entertainment. And even if you have spared your legs, you are not much better off, as you are sure to find out in time, especially if the thing is repeated too often.

When I told you just now that the dance of labor was worth as much as the dance of the ball-room, was I right or wrong? What do you say yourself?

I could repeat the same of theaters-places of entertainment specially adapted for impoverishing the blood, and ruining the health of the happy mortals who go there, evening after evening, to purchase at the door the right of filling their lungs with carbonic acid, not to speak of other poisons. You must see clearly that such places as those are not fit for little lungs as dainty as yours; and this may help you to submit with a good grace when you see people going there without you. Grown-up people escape moreover, because the human machine possesses a strange elasticity, which enables it to accommodate itself one scarcely knows how-to the sometimes very critical positions in which its lords and masters place it without a thought. But to do this, it is well that it should be thoroughly formed and established; for you run a risk of injuring it forever, if you misuse it too early in life. Tell this to your dear schoolboy brother, when he wants to smoke his cigar like a man. If his lungs could speak, they would call out to him that it was very hard upon them, at their age, to be so treated, and that he ought at any rate to wait till they had passed their examinations!

But I must not get into a dispute with so important an individual, by throwing stones into a garden which is not under my care. For you, my dear child, the moral of this day's leswhich to my mind is much more alarming than a hobgoblin tale, since it concerns the realities of every-day life is clear; and it is this:

son

Seek your amusements as far as possible in the fresh air. In the summer, when the lamp is lit, bid your mamma a sweet good-night, and go to bed. In the winter do not wait till there is a great quantity of carbonic acid in the room where the grown-up people are sitting, before you retire to your own like a reasonable girl, anxious not to do mischief to that valuable and indefatigable servant, the poor blood! Not to mention that if she were to injure him too much, she would have to bear his grumbling for the rest of her life. We cannot change him as we change other servants.

NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI.

NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, an Italian statesman and historian, born at Florence, May 3, 1469; died there, June 22, 1527. In 1498, he entered the service of the Florentine State, and was soon made Secretary to "The Ten of Liberty and Peace." He held this position for fourteen years, whence he is usually designated as "Secretary of the Florentine Republic." Machiavelli was for a time banished from Florence. In 1513 he was accused of a conspiracy against Cardinal de' Medici; was thrown into prison, and put to the torture, but the Cardinal later became convinced of his innocence. Clement VII. employed Machiavelli in several negotiations.

The writings of Machiavelli have been published several times. The fullest Italian edition is that put forth at Florence in 1813, in eight volumes. The most important of these are the "Istorie Fiorentine" ("Florentine Histories") and "Il Principe" ("The Prince"). The latter is the work with which the name of Machiavelli is indissolubly connected. It was written about 1514, but does not appear to have been printed until 1532 — five years after the author's death. From a famous chapter of this work, "Whether Princes should be faithful to their engagements?" the term "machiavellian" has come to be a word of reproach to indicate a crafty, lying, and unscrupulous mode of policy.

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SHOULD PRINCES BE FAITHFUL TO THEIR ENGAGEMENTS?

(From "The Prince.")

IT is unquestionably very praiseworthy in princes to be faithful to their engagements; but among those of the present day who have performed great exploits few of them have piqued themselves of this fidelity, or have been scrupulous in deceiving those who relied on their good faith. It should therefore be known that there are two methods of warfare; one of which is by laws, the other by force. The first is peculiar to men, the other is common to us with beasts. But when laws are not powerful enough, it is very necessary to recur to force.

A prince ought to understand how to fight with both these kinds of arms.

This doctrine is admirably displayed to us by the ancient poets in the allegorical history of the education of Achilles, and many other princes of antiquity, by the Centaur Chiron who, under the double form of man and beast, taught those who were destined to govern that it was their duty to use by turns the arms adapted to each of these species, seeing that one without the other cannot be of any durable advantage.

Now those animals whose forms the prince should know how to assume are the fox and the lion. The first can but feebly defend himself against the wolf, and the other readily falls into snares that are laid for him. From the first a prince will learn to be dexterous, and avoid the snares; and from the other to be strong, and keep the wolves in awe. Those who despise the part of the fox understand but little of their trade. In other words, a prudent prince cannot nor ought to keep his word, except when he can do it without injury to himself, or when the circumstances under which he contracted the engagement still exist.

I should be cautious of inculcating such a principle if all men were good: but as they are all wicked, and ever ready to break their words, a prince should not pique himself in keeping his more scrupulously and it is always easy to justify this want of faith. I could give numerous proofs of it, and show how many engagements and treaties have been broken by the infidelity of princes; the most fortunate of whom has always been he who best understood how to assume the character of the fox. The object is to act his part well, and to know how in due time to feign and dissemble. And men are so simple. and so weak that he who wishes to deceive easily finds dupes.

One example, taken from the history of our own times, will be sufficient: Pope Alexander VI. played during his whole life a game of deception; and notwithstanding his faithless conduct was extremely well known, he was in all his artifices successful. Oaths and protestations cost him nothing. Never did a Prince so often break his word, or pay less regard to his engagements. This was because he knew perfectly well this part of the art of government.

There is, therefore, no necessity for a prince to possess all the good qualities I have enumerated; but it is indispensable that he should appear to have them. I will even go so far as

to say that it is sometimes dangerous to make use of them, though it is always useful to seem to possess them. It is the duty of a prince most earnestly to endeavor to gain the reputation of kindness, clemency, piety, justice, and fidelity to his engagements. He ought to possess all these good qualities, but still to retain such power over himself as to display their opposites whenever it may be expedient. I maintain it that a prince-and more especially a new prince cannot with impunity exercise all the virtues, because his own self-preservation will often compel him to violate the laws of charity, religion, and humanity. He should habituate himself to bend easily to the various circumstances which may from time to time surround him. In a word, it will be as useful to him to persevere in the path of rectitude while he feels no inconvenience in doing so as to know how to deviate from it when circumstances shall require it. He should, above all, study to utter nothing which does not breathe kindness, justice, good faith, and piety.

The last quality is, however, that which it is the most important for him to appear to possess, as men in general judge more by their eyes than by their other senses. Every man can see, but it is allotted to but few to know how to rectify the errors which they commit by the eyes. We easily discern what a man appears to be, but not what he really is; and the smaller number dare not gainsay the multitude, who besides have with them the strength and the splendor of government.

as we can

Now when it is necessary to form a judgment of the minds of men — and more especially of those of princes not have recourse to any tribunal, we must attend only to results. The point is to maintain his authority. Let the means be what they may, they will always appear honorable, and everyone will praise them; for the vulgar are always caught by appearances, and judge only by the event. Now, the "vulgar" comprehend almost everyone, and the few are of no consequence except when the multitude know not on whom to rely.

A prince who is now on the throne, but whom I do not choose to name [he refers to Ferdinand V., King of Aragon and Castile, who acquired the kingdoms of Naples and Navarre], always preaches peace and good faith; but if he had observed either the one or the other, he would more than once have lost his reputation and his dominions.