Machiavellism formed a strikingly distinctive feature in the characters of all the foregoing personages. They all possessed more of the wisdom of the serpent, than of the innocence of the dove. It may be thought, however, that we employ too strong a term in calling this Machiavellism. A less strict morality would only call it policy, worldly wisdom. In men of strong conscientiousness, astuteness may be little or nothing more; but where the moral sense is weak, it easily passes into duplicity and dishonest craft. The shrewd policy and worldly wisdom by which the great ALFRED civilized a barbarous people, and tamed to quietude a nation of turbulent robbers, has never been accused of departing from a strict morality. It may be that he is somewhat indebted to the partiality of the monkish historians for the very flattering pictures of him handed down to us. The prompt and energetic manner in which, from time to time, he fell upon and defeated the Danes who ravaged the country is too well known to need mention, and the prudent means by which he endeavoured to incite his people to educate themselves has been often the subject of praise. In a remarkably illiterate age, he alone courted literature, and, conscious of its power to civilize his people, urged them to follow his example. Nevertheless, he did not forget the more arduous duties of a King. While devoting a large part of his time to learning, he never neglected the interests of his country; nor suffered her liberties to be trampled upon by invaders while he was cultivating the arts of peace. His biographer, quaintly and somewhat poetically, describes the King’s studious mind and gubernatorial talents. “Like a most productive bee, he flew here and there asking questions as he went, until he had eagerly and unceasingly collected many various flowers of Divine Scripture, with which he thickly stored the cells of his mind. His friends would voluntarily sustain little or no toil, though it was for the common necessity of the kingdom; but he alone, sustained by the divine aid, like a skilful pilot, strove to steer his ship laden with much wealth, into the safe and much-desired harbour of his country though almost all his crew were tired, and suffered them not to faint or hesitate, though sailing among the manifold waves and eddies of this present life.”[17] The circumstances in which men are involuntarily placed marvellously affect their actions. Crowd together a number of young trees in one small plot, and how slowly they grow, how stunted they become! Remove them to separate stations, where their roots may spread, their branches expand, and their leaves drink freely of the sun and air, and how soon they take their place among the giants of the forest. So it is with men. Crowded in cities, undistinguished by birth, and unassisted by patronage, many a hero dies unseen and unnoticed—