No knave can be a great politician; but every knave thinks himself so. The mistake they make is between wisdom and cunning. The knave prides himself on deceiving others, the wise man on not deceiving himself. CHAP. VI. When the Abbé de Boisguerin on the following morning entered the presence of Charles of Montsoreau, his mind was prepared for every thing he was to say and do, for every thing he was to assert or to imply. But there was one thing for which his mind was not prepared--all shrewd, keen, politic, and experienced as it was. There are points in the deep study of human nature which those who would use that mighty science for selfish purposes almost always overlook. Amongst these are the changes, both sudden and progressive, which take place in themselves and in others, and the changes in relative situations which they produce. In this respect it was that the Abbé de Boisguerin, thoughtful and calculating as he was, had not prepared himself for the meeting with Charles of Montsoreau. The time was short since they had parted. Not above six weeks had elapsed, if so much; and the Abbé had come ready to deal with a youth of keen and penetrating mind, of quick perceptions and extensive powers; of all whose feelings and thoughts he fancied that he knew the scope and quality; whose mind he believed that he had gauged and tested as if it were some material substance. But he knew not at all, what an effect the space of six weeks may have when spent in communication with great minds, and in dealing with great events; and the moment he entered the room he saw a change which he had never dreamt of--a change which through the mind affected the body, the countenance, and the demeanour. Charles of Montsoreau, in short, had left him a youth high-spirited, feeling, intelligent, graceful,--he stood before him a man, calm, thoughtful, grave, dignified. There were even lines of care already upon his brow, which gave it a degree of sternness not natural to it; and the whole look and aspect of his former pupil was so powerfully intellectual, that the Abbé felt he must be more cautious and careful than he had prepared to be; that his words, his thoughts, and his looks would not alone be tested by old affection, nor even by the simple powers of an undoubting mind, but would be tried by experience likewise, and tried moreover with that degree of suspicion which is more active within us when we first learn the painful lessons taught by human deceit, than it is when we learn fully our own powers of separating truth from falsehood.