him show himself a king right royally, and shed his sovereign radiance on his subjects, even while he emptied their purses upon his stately pleasures. This was just what Aurangzíb could not do. The very loftiness of his nature kept his people at a distance, while his inflexible uprightness and frigid virtue chilled their hearts.
This cold austerity of Aurangzíb destroyed his influence. Few kings have had better intentions, but the best will in the world will not bring popularity, or make men do what you think right merely because they know you think it so. The people saw through the suave manner and placid amiability of the judge who listened so indulgently to their petitions, and perceived a bigot's atrophied heart behind the gracious smile. It has been usual to call the character of Aurangzíb a puzzling compound of contradictions. Yet there is no inconsistency in his acts or words. His character is that of the Puritan, with all its fiery zeal, its ascetic restraint, its self-denial, its uncompromising tenacity of righteous purpose, its high ideals of conduct and of duty; and also with its cold severity, its curbed impulses, its fanaticism, its morbid distrust of 'poor human nature,' its essential unlovableness. Aurangzíb possessed many great qualities, he practised all the virtues; but he was lacking in the one thing needful a leader of men: he could not win love. Such a one may administer an empire, but he cannot rule the hearts of men.
