YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY THE LIBRARY OF THE DIVINITY SCHOOL RENAISSANCE IN ITALY EENAISSANCE IN ITALY THE REVIVAL OF LEARNING BY JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS ATJTHOB OP CAH INTBODUOTION TO THE STUDY OP DANTE ' 'STUDIES 07 THE GREEK POETS' AND 'SKETCHES IN ITALY AND GREECE' At tibi fortassis, si, quod mens sperat et optat, Es post me victura dm, meliora superBunt Secula ; non omnes veniet lethaBus in annos Iste sopor ; poterant, discussis forte tenebris, Ad purnm priscamque jubar remeare nepotes. Tone Helioona nova revirentem stirpe videbis, Tunc lauros frondere sacras ; tunc alta resurgent Ingenia atque animi dociles, quibus ardor honesti Pieridum studii veterem geminabit amorem PKTfiABOH^i Africa* lib. ix. NSW EDITION LONDON SMITH, ELDER & CO. NEW YOEK: CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1915 PREFACE This volume on the ' Eevival of Learning ' follows that on the 'Age of the Despots,' published in 1875, and precedes that on the 'Fine Arts,' which is now also offered to the public. In dealing with the ' Eevival of Learning ' and the ' Fine Arts,' I have tried to remember that I had not so much to write again the history of these subjects, as to treat their relation to the ' Eenais sance in Italy.' In other words, I have regarded each section of my theme as subordinate to the general culture of a great historical period. The volume on ' Italian Literature,' still in contemplation, is intended to complete the work. While handling the theme of the Italian Eenaissance, I have selected such points, and emphasised such details, as I felt to be important for the biography of a nation at the most brilliant epoch of its intellectual activity. ¦The historian of culture sacrifices much that the his torian of politics will judge essential, and calls attention to matters that the general reader may sometimes find 1 To the original edition of this volume. VI PREFACE superfluous. He must submit to bear the reproach of having done at once too little and too much. He must be content to traverse at one time well-worn ground, and at another to engage in dry or abstruse inquiries. He must not shrink from seeming to affect the fame of a compiler ; nor, unless his powers be of the highest, can he hope altogether to avoid repetitions wearisome alike to reader and to writer. His main object is to paint the portrait of national genius identical through all varieties of manifestation ; and in proportion as he has preserved this point of view with firmness, he may hope to have succeeded. For the History of the Eevival of Learning I have had continual recourse to Tiraboschi's ' Storia della Lettera tura Italiana.' That work is still the basis of all re searches bearing on the subject. 1 owe besides particu lar obligations to Vespasiano's ' Vite di Uomini Illustri,' to Comparetti's ' Virgilio nel Medio Evo,' to Eosmini's ' Vita di Filelfo,' ' Vita di Vittorino da Feltre,' and ' Vita di Guarino da Verona,' to Shepherd's ' Life of Poggio Bracciolini,' to Dennistoun's ' Dukes of Urbino,' to Schultze's ' Gemistos Plethon,' to Didot's ' Aide Manuce,' to Von Eeumont's ' Lorenzo de' Medici,' to Burckhardt's • Cultur der Eenaissance in Italien,' to Voigt's ' Wieder- belebung des classischen Alterthums,' and to Gregoro- vius's 'Geschichte der Stadt Eom.' To Voigt and Burckhardt, having perforce traversed the same ground that they have done, I feel that I have been in a special sense indebted. At the same time I have made it my invariable practice, as the notes to this volume will show, to found my own opinions on the study of original PEEFACE Vii sources. To mention in detail all the editions of the works of humanists and scholars I have consulted, would be superfluous. To me it has been a labour of love to record even the bare names of those Italian worthies who recovered for us in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries ' the ever lasting consolations ' of the Greek and Latin classics. The thought that I was tracing the history of an achievement fruitful of the weightiest results for modern civilisation has sustained me in a task that has been sometimes tedious. The collective greatness of the Eevival has reconciled my mind to many trivialities of detail. The prosaic minutiae of obscure biographies and long-forgotten literary labours have been glorified by what appears to me the poetry and the romance of the whole theme. It lies not in my province or my power to offer my readers any adequate apology for such defects as my own want of skill in exposition, or the difficulty of transfiguring with vital light and heat a subject so remote from present interests, may have occasioned. I must leave this volume in their hands, hoping that some at least may be animated by the same feeling of grati tude toward those past workers in the field of learning which has supported me. Chiton: March 1877. CONTENTS CHAPTER I THE MEN OF THE RENAISSAKCB FAOI Formation of Conscious Personality in Italy — Aristocracy of In tellect — Self -culture as an Aim — Want of National Architecture — Want of National Drama— Eminence of Sculpture and Painting — Peculiar Capacity for Literature — Scholarship — Men of Many- sided Genius — Their Eelation to the Age — Conflict between Mediaeval Tradition and Humanism — Petrarch — The Meaning of the Eevival begun by him — Cosmopolitan Philosophy — Toleration — An Intellectual Empire — Worldliness — Confusion of Impulses and Inspirations — Copernicus and Columbus — Christianity and the Classics — Italian Incapacity for Eeligious Eeformation — Free Thought takes the form of License — Harmonies attempted be tween Christianity and Antique Philosophy — Florentine Academy — Physical Qualities of the Italians — Portraits of Two Periods — Physical Exercises — Determination of the Eace to Scholarship — Ancient Memories of Eome — The Cult of Antiquity — Desire of Fame — Fame to be found in Literature — The Cult of Intellect — The Cult of Character — Preoccupation with Personal Details- Biography — Ideal Sketches — Posthumous Glory— Enthusiasm for Erudition — Piero de' Pazzi — Florence and Athens — Paganism— Real Value of Italian Humanism— Pico on the Dignity of Man . 1 CHAPTER II B1EST PBBIOD OF HUMANISM Importance of the Eevival of Learning — Mediasval Bomance — The Legend of Faustus — Its Value for the Eenaissance — The Devo tion of Italy to Study— Italian Predisposition for this Labour — Scholarship in the Dark Ages — Double Attitude assumed by the t CONTENTS nat Church — Piety for Virgil — Meagre Acquaintance with the Latin Classics — No Greek Learning —The Spiritual Conditions of the Middle Ages adverse to Pure Literature — Italy no Exception to the rest of Europe — Dante and Petrarch — Definition of Humanism —Petrarch's Conception of it — His .ffisthetical Temperament — His Cult for Cioero, Zeal in Collecting Manuscripts, Sense of the Importance of Greek Studies — Warfare against Pedantry and Superstition — Ideal of Poetry and Ehetorio — Critique of Jurists and Schoolmen — S. Augustine — Petrarch's Vanity — Thirst for Fame — Discord between his Life and his Profession — His Literary Temperament — Visionary Patriotism — His Influence — His Suc cessors — Boccaccio and Greek Studies — Translation of Homer — Philosophy of Literature — Sensuousness of Boccaocio'B Inspiration — Giovanni da Eavenna — The Wandering Professor — His Pupils in Latin Scholarship — Luigi Marsigli — The Convent of S. Spirito —Humanism in Polities — Coluccio de' Salutati — Gasparino da Barzizza — Improved Style in Letter-writing — Eevival of Greek Learning — Manuel Chrysoloras— Bis Pupils — Lionardo Bruni — Value of Greek for the Eenaissanoe ....,, 87 CHAPTEB III FIRST PERIOD OP HUMANISM Condition of the Universities in Italy — Bologna — High Schools ' founded from it — Naples under Frederick H. — Under the House of Anjou — Ferrara — Piacenza— Perugia — Borne — Pisa Florence — Imperial and Papal Charters — Foreign Students— Professorial .Staff— Subjects taught in the High Schools— Place assigned to Humanism — Pay of the Professors of Eloquence — Francesco Filelfo — The Humanists less powerful at the Universities — Method of Humanistic Teaching — The Book Market before Printing— Mediaeval Libraries— Cost of Manuscripts— ' Stationarii ' and ' Peciarii '—Negligence of Copyists— Discovery of Classical Co dices — Boccaccio at Monte Cassino — Poggio at Constance — Con vent of S. Gallen— Brum's Letter to Poggio— Manuscripts Dis- covered by Poggio— Nicholas of Treves— Collection of Greek Manuscripts— Aurispa, Filelfo, and Guarino— The Buins of Eome —Their Influence on Humanism— Dante and Villani— Eienzi— His Idealistic Patriotism— Vanity— Political Incompetence- Petrarch's Eelations with Eienzi— Injury to Monuments in Eome — Poggio's Eoman Topography— Sentimental Feeling for the Buins of Antiquity — Ciriac of Ancona 83 CONTENTS XI CHAPTER IV BBCOND PERIOD OF HUMANISM PAGB Intricaoy of the Subjeot — Division into Four Periods — Plaoe of Florenoe — Social Conditions favourable to Culture — Palla degli Strozzi — His Encouragement of Greek Studies — Plan of a Public Library — Hia Exile — Cosimo de' Medici — His Patronage of Learn ing — Political Character — Love of Building — Generosity to Stu dents — Foundation of Libraries — Vespasiano and Thomas of Sarzana — Niccolo de' Niccoli — His Collection of Codices — De scription of his Mode of Life — His Fame as a Latinist — Lionardo Bruni — His Biography — Translations from the Greek — Latin Treatises and Histories — His Burial in Santa Croce — Carlo Aretino — Fame as a Lecturer — The Florentine Chancery — Matteo Palmieri — Giannozzo Manetti — His Hebrew Studies — His Publio Career — His Eloquence — Manetti ruined by the Medici — His Life in Exile at Naples — Estimate of his Talents — Ambrogio Traver- sari — Study of Greek Fathers — General of the Camaldolese Order — Humanism and Monasticism — The Council of Florence — Florentine Opinion about the Greeks — Gemistos Plethon— His Life — His Philosophy — His Influence at Florence — Cosimo de' Medici and the Florentine Academy — Study of Plato — Plethon's Writings — Platonists and Aristotelians in Italy and Greece — Bessarion — His Patronage of Greek Eefugees in Borne — Hu manism in the Smaller Bepublics — In Venice . • . .115 CHAPTER V SECOND PERIOD OF HUMANISM Transition from Florence to Borne — Vicissitudes of Learning at tha Papal Court— Diplomatic Humanists — Protonotaries — Apostolio Scribes — Ecclesiastical Sophists — Immorality and Artificiality of Scholarship in Borne — Poggio and Bruni, Secretaries — Euge nius IV.— His Patronage of Scholars — Flavio Biondo — Solid Erudition— Nicholas V.— His Private History— Nature of his Talents — His unexpected Elevation to the Boman See — Jubila tion of the Humanists — His Protection of Learned Men in Borne —A Workshop of Erudition— A Factory of Translations- High Sums paid for Literary Labour— Poggio Fiorentino — His Early Life — His Journeys — His Eminence as a Man of Letters — His attitude towards Ecclesiastics — His Invectives — Humanistic Gladiators— Poggio and Filelfo— Poggio and Gua- rino— Poggio and Valla— Poggio and Perotti— Poggio and Georgios Trapezuntios— Literary Scandals — Poggio's Collections of Antiquities — Chancellor of Florenoe — Cardinal Bessarion — Xll CONTENTS His Library— Theologioal Studies— Apology for Plato— The Greeks in Italy — Humanism at Naples — Want of Culture in Southern Italy — Learning an Exotic — Alfonso the Magnificent — Scholars in the Camp — Literary Dialogues at Naples — Antonio Beccadelli— The ' Hermaphroditus '—Lorenzo Valla— The Epi curean — The Critic — The Opponent of the Church — Bartolom- meo Fazio — Giannantonio Poroello— Court of Milan — Filippo Maria Visconti — Decembrio's Description of his Master — Fran- oesoo Filelfo — His Early Life — Visit to Constantinople — Place at Court — Marriage — Eeturn to Italy — Venice — Bologna — His Pre tensions as a Professor — Florence — Feuds with the Florentines — Immersion in Politics — Siena — Settles at Milan — His Fame — Private Life and Public Interests— Overtures to Eome — Filelfo under the Sforza Tyranny — Literary Brigandage — Death at Florence — Filelfo as the Bepresentative of a Class — Vittorino da Feltre — Early Education — Scheme of Training Youths as Scholars — Besidence at Padua — Eesidence at Mantua — His School of Princes — Liberality to Poor Students — Details of his Life and System — Court of Ferrara — Guarino da Verona — House Tutor of Lionello d' Este — Giovanni Aurispa — Smaller Courts — Carpi — Mirandola — Eimini and tke Malatesta Tyrants — Cesena — Pesaro — Urbino and Duke Frederick — Vespasiano da Bisticoi . 155 CHAPTER VI THIRD PERIOD OF HUMANISM Improvement in Taste and Criticism — Coteries and Academies — Eevival of Italian Literature — Printing — Florence, the Capital of Learning — Lorenzo de' Medici and his Circle — Public Policy of Lorenzo— Literary Patronage— Variety of his Gifts — Meetings of the Platonic Society — Marsilio Ficino — His Eduoation for Platonic Studies— Translations of Plato and the Neoplatonists— Harmony between Plato and Christianity — Giovanni Pico His First Appearance in Florenoe— His Theses proposed at Borne— Censure of the Church— His Study of the Cabbala— Large Con ception of Learning — Occult Science — Cristoforo Landino Pro fessor of Fine Literature— Virgilian Studies— Camaldolese Dis putations—Leo Battista Alberti— His Versatility— Bartolommeo Soala— Obscure Origin— Chancellor of Florence— Angelo Poliziano —Early Life— Translation of Homer— The ' Homericus JuveniB ' —True Genius in Poliziano— Command of Latin and Greek— Eesuscitation of Antiquity in his own Person— His Professorial Work— The « Miscellanea '— Eelationto Medici— Eoman Scholar ship in this Period— Pius II.— Pomponius LfBtus— His Aoademy CONTENTS xill PAQl and Mode of Life — Persecution under Paul II. — Humanism at Naples — Pontanus — His Academy — His Writings — Academies established in all Towns of Italy — Introduction of Printing — Sweynheim and Pannartz — The Early Venetian Press — Florence — Cennini — Alopa's Homer — Change in Scholarship effected by Printing — The Life of Aldo Manuzio — The Prinoely House of Pio at Carpi — Greek Books before Aldo — The Aldine Press at Venice — History of its Activity — Aldo and Erasmus — Aldo and the Greek Befugees — Aldo's Death — His Family and Successors — The Ne-aoademia — The Salvation of Greek Literature . .224 CHAPTER VII FOURTH PERIOD OF HUMANISM Pall of the Humanists — Scholarship permeates Society — A New Ideal of Life and Manners — Latinisation of Names — Classical Periphrases — Latin Epics on Christian Themes — Paganism — The Court of Leo X. — Honours of the Church given to Scholars — Ecclesiastical Men of the World— Maecenases at Eome — Papal and Imperial Eome— Moral Corruption — Social Eefinement — The Eoman Academy — Pietro Bembo — His Life at Ferrara — At Urbino — Comes to Borne — Employed by Leo — Eetirement to Padua, — His Dictatorship of Letters — Jacopo Sadoleto — A Graver Genius than Bembo — Paulus Jovius — Latin Stylist — His His tories — Baldassare Castiglione — Life at Urbino and Eome — The Courtly Scholar — His Diplomatic Missions — Alberto Pio — Gian Francesco Pico della Mirandola — The Vicissitudes of his Life — Jerome Aleander— Oriental Studies — The Library of the Vatican — His Mission to Germany — Inghirami, Beroaldo, and Acciaiuoli — The Eoman University — JohnLascaris — Study of Antiquities — Origin of the ' Corpus Inscriptionum ' — Topographical Studies — Formation of the Vatican Sculpture Gallery — Discovery of the Laocoon — Feeling for Statues in Eenaissance Italy — Venetian Envoys in the Belvedere — Baphael's Plan for Excavating Ancient Borne — His Letter to Leo — Effect of Antiquarian Besearches on the Arts- Intellectual Supremacy of Borne in this Period — The Fall — Adrian VI. — The Sack of Borne— Valeriano's Description of the Sufferings of Scholars 284 CHAPTER VIII LATIN POETRT Special Causes for the Practice of Latin Versification in Italy — The Want of an Italian Language — Multitudes of Poetasters -Becca- liv CONTENTS PASS dolli — Alberti's ' Philodoxus '—Poliziano— The 'Sylvas — 'Nu- tricia,' ' Eusticus,' ' Manto,' ' Ambra '—Minor Poems — Pontano— Sannazzaro— Elegies and Epigrams — Christian Epios— Vida's ' Christiad '—Vida's ' Poetioa '— Fracastoro— The ' Syphilis '—• Barocco Flatteries— Bembo— Immoral Elegies — Imitations of Ovid and Tibullus— The ' Benacus '—Epitaphs.— Navagero— Epi grams and Eclogues — Molsa — Poem on his own Death — Casti- glione— 'Alcon' and 'Lyeidas' — Verses of Society — The Apotheosis of the Popes— Poem on the Ariadne of the Vatican— Sadoleto's Verses on the Laocoon — Flaminio — His Life — Love of the Country — Learned Friends— Scholar-Poets of Lombardy — Extinc tion of Learning in Florence — Decay of Italian Erudition . . 324 CHAPTER IX CONCLUSION 3-eneral Survey — The Part played in the Eevival by the Chief Cities — Preoccupation with Scholarship in spite of War and Conquest — Place of the Humanists in Society — Distributors of Praise and Blame — Flattery and Libels — Comparison with the Sophists — The Form preferred to the Matter of Literature — Ideal of Culture as an end in itself — Suspicion of Zealous Churchmen — Intrusion of Humanism into the Church — Irreligion of the Humanists — Giraldi's ' Progymnasma '— Ariosto— Bohemian Life — Personal Immorality — Want of Fixed Principles —Professional Vanity — Literary Pride — Estimate of Humanistic Literature — Study of Style — Influence of Cicero — Valla's 'Elegantiae' — Stylistio Puerili ties —Value attached to Ehetorio — ' Oratore ' — Moral Essays — Epistolography — Histories — Critical and Antiquarian Studies — Large Appreciation of Antiquity — Liberal Spirit —Poggio and Jerome of Prague — Humanistic Type of Education — Its Diffusion through Europe— Future Prospeots — Decay of Learning in Italy . 872 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY CHAPTEE I THE MEN OP THE EENAISSANCE Formation of Conscious Personality in Italy — Aristocracy of Intellect Self-culture as an Aim— Want of National Architecture— Want of National Drama— Eminence of Sculpture and Painting— Peculiar Capacity for Literature — Scholarship — Men of Many-sided Genius — Their Belation to the Age — Conflict between Mediasval Tradition and Humanism— Petrarch— The Meaning of the Eevival begun by him— Cosmopolitan Philosophy— Toleration— An Intellectual Em pire — Worldliness — Confusion of Impulses and Inspirations — Copernicus and Columbus — Christianity and the Classics— Italian Incapacity for Eeligious Eeformation — Free Thought takes the form of License — Harmonies attempted between Christianity and Antique Philosophy — Florentine Academy — Physical Qualities of the Italians — Portraits of Two Periods — Physical Exercises — Determination of the Eace to Scholarship — Ancient Memories of Eome — The Cult of Antiquity — Desire of Fame — Fame to be found in Literature — The Cult of Intellect — The Cult of Character — Preoccupation with Personal Details — Biography — Ideal Sketches — Posthumous Glory — Enthusiasm for Erudition — Piero de' Pazzi — Florenoe and Athens — Paganism — Beal Value of Italian Humanism — Pico on the Dignity of Man. The conditions, political, social, moral, and religious, described in the first volume of this work, produced among the Italians a type of character nowhere else observable in Europe. This character, highly self-conscious and mentally mature, was needed for the intellectual movement of the Eenaissance. Italy had proved herself incapable of forming an united II B 2 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY nation, or of securing the principle of federal coherence ; of maintaining a powerful military system, or of holding her own agamst the French and Spaniards. For these defects her Communes and her Despots, the Papacy and the kingdom of Naples, the theories of the medieval doctrinaires and the enthusiasm of the humanists, were alike responsible ; though the larger share belongs to Eome, resolutely hostile to the monarchical principle, and zealous, by espousing the Guelf faction, to maintain the discord of the nation. At the same time the very causes of political disunion were favourable to the intellectual growth of the Italians. Each State, whether republican or despotic, had, during the last years of the Middle Ages, formed a mixed society of nobles, merchants, and artisans, enclosed within the circuit of the city walls, and strongly marked by the peculiar complexion of their native place. Every town was a centre of activity and industry, eagerly competing with its neighbours, proud of its local characteristics, anxious to confer distinction on citizens who rose to eminence by genius or practical ability. Party strife in the republics, while it disturbed their internal repose, sharpened the intellect and strengthened the per sonality of the burghers. Exile and proscription, the common climax of civic warfare, made them still more self-determined and self-reliant by driving each man back upon his own resources. The despots, again, through the illegal tenure of their authority, were forced to the utmost possible develop ment of individual character : since all their fortunes depended on their qualities as men. The plots and counter plots of subjects eager for a change of government, and of neighbours anxious to encroach upon their territory, kept the atmosphere of their Courts in a continual state of agitation. One type of ability was fostered by the diplomatic relations of the several cities, yielding employment to a multitude of secretaries and ambassadors ; another by the system of FOEMATION OF CHAEACTEE 3 Condottiere warfare, offering a brilliant career to ambitious adventurers. In all departments open to a man of talent birth was of less importance than natural gifts ; for the social barriers and grades of feudalism had either never existed in Italy, or had been shaken and confounded during the struggles of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. The ranks of the tyrants were filled with sons of Popes and captains risen from the proletariat. The ruling class in the republics con sisted of men self-made by commerce ; and here the name at least of Popolo was sovereign. It followed that men were universally rated at what they proved themselves to be ; and thus an aristocracy of genius and character grew up in Italy at a period when the rest of Europe presented but rare gpecimens of individuals emergent from the common herd. As in ancient Greece, the nation was of less importance than the city, and within the city personal ability carried over whelming weight. The Italian history of the Eenaissance resumes itself in the biography of men greater than their race, of mental despots, who absorbed its forces in them selves. The intellectual and moral milieu created by multitudes of self-centred, cultivated personalities was necessary for the evolution of that spirit of inteUigence, subtle, penetrative, and elastic, that formed the motive force of the Eenaissance. The work achieved by Italy for the world in that age was less the work of a nation than that of men of power, less the collective and spontaneous triumph of a puissant people than the aggregate of individual efforts animated by one soul of free activity, a common striving after fame. This is notice able at the very outset. The Italians had no national Epic : their Divine Comedy is the poem of the individual man. Petrarch erects self-culture to the rank of an ideal, and pro poses to move the world from the standpoint of his study, B 2 4 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY darting his spirit's light through all the void circumference, and making thought a power. The success and the failure of the Italians are alike refer able to their political subdivisions, and to this strong develop ment of their personahty. We have already seen how they fell short of national unity and of military greatness. Even in the realm of art and literature the same conditions were potent. Some of the chief productions of humanity seem to require the co-operation of whole peoples working sympa thetically to a common end. Foremost among these are architecture and the drama. The most splendid triumphs of modern architecture in the French and English Gothic were achieved by the half-unconscious striving of the national genius through several centuries. The names of the builders of the cathedrals are unknown : the cathedrals themselves bear less the stamp of individual thought than of popular instinct ; their fame belongs to the race that made them, to the spirit of the times that gave them birth. It is not in architecture, therefore, that we expect the Italians, divided into small and rival States, and distinguished by salient sub jectivity, to show their strength. Men like Niccola Pisano, Arnolfo del Cambio, Alberti, Brunelleschi, and Bramante were gifted with an individuality too paramount for the creation of more than mighty experiments in architecture. They bowed to no tradition, but followed the dictates of their own inventive impulse, selecting the types that suited them, and dealing freely with the forms they found around them. In stead of seeking to carry on toward its accomplishment a style, not made, but felt and comprehended by their genius, they were eager to produce new and characteristic masterpieces — signs and symbols of their own peculiar quahty of mind. Italy is full of splendid but imperfect monuments of personal ability, works of beauty displaying no unbroken genealogy of un known craftsmen, but attesting the skill of famous artists. ARCHITECTURE AND THE PLASTIC ARTS 3 For the practical architect her palaces and churches may, for this reason, be less instructive and less attractive than the pubhc buildings of France. Yet for the student of national and personal characteristics, who loves to trace the physi ognomy of a people in its edifices, to discover the mind of the artist in his work, their interest is unrivalled. In each city the specific genius loci meets us face to face : from each town-hall or cathedral the soul of a great man leans forth to greet our own. These advantages compensate for frequent extravagances, for audacities savouring of ignorance, and for awkwardness in the adoption and modification of incongruous styles. Moreover, it must always be remembered that in Italy the architect could not forget the monuments of Eoman and Byzantine art around him. Classic models had to be suited to the requirements of modern life and Christian ritual; and when the Germans brought their Gothic from beyond the Alps, it suffered from its adaptation to a southern climate. The result was that Italy arrived at no great national tradition in architecture, and that free scope was offered to the whims and freaks of individual designers. When at length, at the end of the sixteenth century, the Italians attained to uniformity of taste, -it was by the sacrifice of their originality. The pedantry of the classical revival did more harm to architecture than to letters, and pseudo- Eoman purism superseded the genial caprices of the previous centuries. If architecture may be said to have suffered in Italy from the supremacy of local characteristics and personal genius, overruling tradition and thwarting the evolution of a national style, the case was quite different with the other arts. Paint ing and scidpture demand the highest independence in the artist, and are susceptible of a far more many-sided treatment than architecture. They cannot be the common product of a people, but require the conscious application of a special 6 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY ability to the task of translating thought and feeling into form. As painters, the ItaUans hold the first rank among civiUsed nations of the modern and the ancient world ; and their inferiority as sculptors to the Greeks is mainly due to their mastery over painting, the essentially romantic art. The sensibUities of the new age craved a more emotional and agitated expression than is proper to sculpture. As early as the days of Ghiberti and Donatello it became clear that the Itahan sculptors were foUowing the methods of the sister art in their designs, while Michael Angelo alone had force enough to make marble the vehicle of thoughts that properly belong to painting or to music. The converse probably held good with the Greeks. What remains of their work in fresco and mosaic seems to show that they were satisfied with groups and figures modelled upon bas-rehefs and statues; just as the Florentines carved pictures, with architecture and landscape, in stone. More need not here be said upon this topic, since the achievements of the ItaUans in painting and in sculpture wiU form a main part of my history. As regards Uterature, the subdivision of Italy into numerous smaU States and the energetic self-assertion of the individual were distinctly favourable. Though the want of a great pubhc, such as can alone be found in the capital of a free, united nation, may be reckoned among the many reasons which prevented the Italians from developing the drama, yet the rivalry of town with town and of burgher with burgher, Court life with its varied opportunities for the display of talent, and municipal hfe with its restless com petition in commerce and pubUc affairs, encouraged the activity of students, historians, statisticians, critics, and poets. Culture, in the highest and widest sense of the word, was what Eenaissance Italy obtained and gave to Europe; and this culture implies a fuU-formed personality in the men who seek it. It was the highly perfected individuahty of the CULTUEE 7 ItaUans that made them first emerge from mediaeval bondage and become the apostles of humanism for the modern world. It may be regretted that their force was expended upon the diffusion of learning and the purification of style, instead of being concentrated on the creation of national masterpieces. We seek in vain for Dante's equal among the poets of the Eenaissance. The ' Orlando Furioso ' is but a poor second to the ' Divina Commedia ; ' and all those works of scholarship, which seemed to our ancestors the ne plus ultra of refine ment, are now relegated to the lumber-room of erudition that has been superseded, or of Uterary ingenuity that has lost its point. Now that the boon of culture, so hardly won by the students of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, has become the common heritage of Europe, it is not always easy to explain the mental grandeur of the ItaUans in that age. Yet we should fad to recognise their merit, if we did not com prehend that, precisely by this absorption of their genius in the task of the Eevival, they conferred the most enduring benefits upon humanity. What the modern world would have been, if the Italian nation had not devoted its energies to the restoration of Uberal learning, cannot even be imagined. The history of that devotion wiU form the principal subject of my present volume. The comprehensive and many-sided natures, frequent in Eenaissance Italy, were specially adapted for the dissemi nation of the new spirit. The appearance of such men as Leo Battista Alberti, Lionardo da Vinci, Lorenzo de' Medici, BruneUeschi and Buonarroti, PoUziano and Pico della Miran- dola, upon the stage of the Eenaissance is not the least fascinating of its phenomena. We can only find their parallels by returning to the age of Pericles. But the problem for the Florentines differed from that which the Athenians had before them. In Greece, the morning-land of civihsation, men of genius, each perfect in his own capacity, were needed. 8 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY Standards had to be created for the future guidance of the world in all the realms of art and thought. We are therefore less struck with the versatiUty than with the concentration of Pheidias, Pindar, Sophocles, Socrates. Italy, on the other hand, had for her task the reabsorption of a bygone culture. It was her vocation to resuscitate antiquity, to gather up afresh the products of the classic past, and so to blend them with the mediaeval spirit as to generate what is specifically modern. It was indispensable that the men by whom this work was accomplished should be no less distinguished for largeness of intelligence, variety of acquirements, quickness of sympathy, and sensitive susceptibility, than for the complete develop ment of some one faculty. The great characters of the Greek age were what Hegel calls plastic, penetrated through and through with a specific quality. Those of the Itahan age were comprehensive and encyclopaedic ; the intensity of their force in any one sphere is less remarkable than its suitableness to aU. They were of a nature to synthesise, interpret, re produce, and mould afresh — Uke Mr. Browning's Cleon, with the addition of the consciousness of young and potent energy Within them. It consequently happens that, except in the sphere of the Fine Arts, we are tempted to underrate the heroes of the Eenaissance. The impression they leave upon our minds at any one point is slight in comparison with the estimate we form of them when we consider each man as a whole. Nor can we point to monumental and colossal works in proof of their creative faculty. The biographies of universal geniuses Uke Leo Battista Alberti or Lionardi da Vinci, so multiform in their capacity and so creative in their intuitions, prompt us to ask what is the connection between the spirit of an age and the men in whom it is incorporated. Not without reason are we forced to personify the Eenaissance as something external to its greatest characters. There is an intellectual strength outside MEN OF THE EENAISSANCE 0 them in the century, a heritage of power prepared for them at birth. The atmosphere in which they breathe is so charged with mental vitahty that the least stirring of their special energy brings them into relation with forces mightier than are the property of single natures. In feebler periods of retrospect and criticism we can but wonder at the combina tion of faculties so varied, and at miracles so easily accom phshed. These times of clairvoyance and of inteUectual magnetism, when individuals of genius appear to move like vibrios in a life- sustaining fluid specially adapted to their needs, are rare in the history of the world ; nor has our science yet arrived at analysing their causes. They are not on that account the less real. To explain them by the hypothesis of a Weltgeist, the collective spirit of humanity proceeding in its evolution through successive phases, and making its advance from stage to stage by alternations of energy and repose, is simply to restore, in other terms, a mystery that finds its final and efficient cause in God.1 Gifted with the powerful individuality 1 am attempting to describe, the men of the Eenaissance received their earliest education in the religion of the Middle Ages, their second in the schools of Greece and Eome. It was the many-sided struggle of personal character with time-honoured tradition on the one hand, and with new ideals on the other, that lent so much of inconsistency and contradiction *0 their aims. Dante remained within the pale of mediaeval thoughts, and gave them full poetical expression. To him, in a truer sense than to any other poet, belongs the double glory of immortalising in verse the centuries behind him, whUe he inaugurated the new age. 1 The analogy of the individual might be quoted. We are aware within ourselves of times when thought is fertile and insight clear, times of conception and projection, followed by seasons of slow diges tion, assimilation, and formation, when the creative faculty stagnates, and the whole force of the intellect is absorbed in mastering through years what it took minutes to divine. 10 RENAISSANCE -IN ITALY The ' Vita Nuova ' and the ' Divina Commedia ' are modern, in so far as the one is the first complete analysis of personal emotion, and the other is the epic of the soul conceived as concrete personality. But the form and colour, the material and structure, the warp of thought and the woof of fancy, are not modern. Petrarch opens a new era. He is not satisfied with the body of mediasval beliefs and intellectual conceptions. Antiquity presents a more fascinating ideal to his spirit, and he feels the subjectivity within him strong enough to assimi late what suits it in the present and the past. The Eevival of Learning, begun by Petrarch, was no mere renewal of interest in classic literature. It was the emancipation of the reason in a race of men, intolerant of control, ready to criticise accepted canons of conduct, enthusiastic in admiration of antique liberty, freshly awakened to the sense of beauty, and anxious above all things to secure for themselves free scope in spheres outside the region of authority. Men so vigorous and independent felt the joy of exploration. There was no problem they feared to face, no formula they were not eager to recast according to their new convictions. This liberty of judgment did not of necessity lead to lawlessness ; nor in any case did it produce that insurgence against Catholic orthodoxy which marked the German Eeformation. Yet it lent a characteristic quality to thought and action. Men were, and dared to be, themselves for good or evil without too much regard for what their neighbours thought of them. At the same time they were tolerant. The culture of the Eenaissance implied a philosophical acceptance of variety in fashion, faith, and conduct ; and this toleration was no doubt one reason why Italian scepticism took the form of cynicism, not of religious revolution. Contact with Islam in the south and east, diplomatic relations with the Turks, familiarity with the mixed races of Spain, and commerce with the nations of the north, had widened the sympathies of the Italians, and COSMOPOLITAN IDEAL OF THE HUMAN FAMILY 11 taught them to regard humanity as one large family. The Uberal spirits of the Eenaissance might have quoted Marcus AureUus with shght alteration : ' I wiU not say, dear City of St. Peter, but, dear City of Man ! ' And just as their moral and religious sensibilities were blunted, so patriotism with them ceased to be an instinct. Instead of patriotism, the Italians were inflamed with the zeal of cosmopolitan culture. In proportion as Italy lost year by year the hope of be coming an united nation, in proportion as the military instincts died in her, and the political instincts were extin guished by despotism, in precisely the same ratio did she evermore acquire a deeper sense of her intellectual vocation. What was world- embracing in the spirit of the mediaeval Church passed by transmutation into the humanism of the fifteenth century. As though aware of the hopelessness of being Italians in the same sense as the natives of Spain were Spaniards, or the natives of France were Frenchmen, the giants of the Eenaissance did their utmost to efface their nationality in order that they might the more effectually restore the cosmopolitan ideal of the human family. To this end both artists and scholars, the depositaries of the real Italian greatness at this epoch, laboured ; the artists by creating an ideal of beauty with a message and a meaning for aU Europe, the scholars by recovering for Europe the burghership of Greek and Eoman civihsation. In spite of the invasions and convulsions that ruined Italy between the years 1494 and 1527, the painters and the humanists pro ceeded with their task, as though the fate of Italy concerned them not, as though the destinies of the modern world depended on their activity. After Venice had been desolated by the armies of the League of Cambray, Aldus Manutius presented the peace-gift of Plato to the foes of his adopted city ; and when the Lutherans broke into Parmegiano's workshop at Eome, even they were awed by the tranquil 12 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY majesty of the Virgin on his easel. Stories like these remind us that Eenaissance Italy met her doom of servitude and degradation in the spirit of ancient Hellas, repeating as they do the tales told of Archimedes in his study, and of Paulus /EmiUus face to face with the Zeus of Pheidias. As patriotism gave way to cosmopohtan enthusiasm, and toleration took the place of earnestness, in hke manner the conflict of mediasval tradition with revived Paganism in the minds of these self-reUant men, trained to indulgence by their large commerce with the world, and familiarised with impiety by the ever-present pageant of an anti-Christian Church, led, as I have hinted, to recklessness and worldly vices, rather than to reformed religion. Contented with themselves and their surroundings, they felt none of the unsatisfied cravings after the infinite, none of the mysterious intuitions and ascetic raptures, the self-abasements and transfigurations, stigmata and beatific visions, of the Middle Ages. The plenitude of life within them seemed to justify their instincts and their impulses, however varied and discordant these might be. The sonorous current of the world around them drowned the voice of conscience, the suggestion of rehgious scruples. It is only thus we can explain to ourselves the attitude of such men as Sixtus and Alexander, serenely vicious in extreme old age. The gratification of their egotism was so complete as to exclude self-judgment by the rules and standards they profes- sionaUy applied ; their personahty was too exacting to admit of hesitation when their instincts were concerned ; in common with their age they had lost sight of all but mundane aims and interests. Three aphorisms, severally attributed to three representative Italians, may be quoted in illustration of these remarks. ' You follow infinite objects ; I foUow the finite ;' said Cosimo de' Medici ; ' you place your ladders in the heavens ; I on earth, that I may not seek so high or fall so low.' ' If we are not ourselves pious,' said Julius IL, ' why CLASSICAL AND CHEISTIAN INFLUENCES 13 should we prevent other people from being so ?' ' Let us enjoy the Papacy,' said Leo X., ' now that God has given it to us.' It was only under the influence of some external terror — a plague, a desolating war, an imminent perU to the nation — that the religious sense, deadened by worldli- ness and selfish philosophy, made itself felt. At such seasons whole cities rushed headlong into fierce revivahsm, whUe men of violent or profligate lives saw visions, and betook themselves to penance. Cellini's Memoirs are, on this point, a valuable mirror of the age in which he lived. It is clear that his ecstasies of devotion in the dungeons of S. Angelo were as sincere as the fiery impulses he obeyed with so much complacency. Passionate and worldly as men of Cellini's stamp might be, they could not shake off the associations that bound them to the past. The energy of their intense individuahty took turn by turn the form and colour of ascetic piety and Pagan sensuahty ; and at times these strong contrasts of emotion seemed bordering upon insanity. Ungovernable natures, swayed by no fixed principle, and bent on moulding the world of thought afresh to suit their own desires, became the puppets of astrological super stition, the playthings of mad lust. Much that appears unaccountable and contradictory in the Eenaissance may be referred to this imperfect blending of ecclesiastical tradition and ideahsed Paganism in natures potent enough to be ori ginal and wilful, but not yet tamed from semi-savagery into acquiescence by experience. Experience came to the Italians in servitude beneath the heel of Spain. The confusion of influences, classical and mediaeval, Christian and Pagan, in that age is not the least extra ordinary of its phenomena. Even Ahe . new thoughts that illuminated the minds of great discoverers, seemed to them like reflections from antiquity ; and while they were opening 14 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY fresh worlds, their hearts were turned toward the Holy Land of the Crusades. Columbus and Copernicus, the two men who did more than any others to revolutionise the mental attitude of humanity, appealed to their contemporaries on the strength of texts from Aristotle and PhUolaus. Conscious that the guesses of the Greek cosmographers had stimulated in themselves that curiosity whereby they made the motion of the earth a certainty, and found a way across the waves to a new continent, these mighty spirits forgot how slight in reahty was their debt to the inert speculators of the classic age. The truth was that in them throbbed a force of enter prise and conquering discovery, a spirit of exploration resolute and hardy, denied to the ancients. How far this new and fruitful temper of the modern mind was due to Christianity, is a problem for the deepest speculation. The conception of a God who had made no part of His world in vain, of a Christ who had bought with His blood the whole seed of Adam, and who imposed the preach ing of the faith upon His followers as a duty, wrought powerfully on Columbus. The Crusades, again, had fami liarised the nations with distant objects and ideal quests; while chivalry was essentially antagonistic to positive and selfish aims. The spirit of mankind had marched a long stage during the Middle Ages. It was not possible now to conceive of God as a tranquil thinking upon thought, with Aristotle. There was no Augustus to set arbitrary limits to the empire of the world in the interest of a conquering nation, or to make the two words orbs and urbs synonymous. When Strabo hazarded the opinion that there might be populous islands in the other hemisphere, he added, with the subhme indifference of a Eoman, ' But these speculations have nothing in common with practical geography ; and if such islands exist, they cannot support peoples of Uke origin with us.' Such language was impossible for a man edu« RELIGIOUS CONVICTION OF COLUMBUS IS cated in the Christian faith, and imbued with the instincts of romanticism. Therefore, though the study of Strabo and Ptolemy at Pavia impressed Columbus with the certainty of the new route across the ocean, he owed the courage that sustained him to the conviction that God was leading him to a great end. ' When I first undertook to start for the discovery of the Indies,' he says in his will, ' I intended to beg the King and Queen to devote the whole of the money that might be drawn from these realms to Jerusalem.' The rehgious yearning of the mediaeval pilgrim added fervour to the conviction of the student, who, by reasoning on antique texts, guessed the greatest secret of which the world has record. At the same time there was something more in Columbus than either antiquity or mediaevalism could pro vide. The modern spirit is distinct from both ; and though, in the Eenaissance, creation wore the garb of imitation, and the new forces used the organs they were destined to outlive and destroy, yet we must allow to native personaUty the on's share in such achievement as that of Columbus. It is the variety of spiritual elements in combination and solu tion, which he illustrates, that makes the psychology of the Eenaissance at once so fascinating and so difficult to analyse. WhUe so much liberty of thought prevailed in Italy, it may be wondered why the Eenaissance, eminently fertile in the domains of art and culture, bore but meagre fruit in those of religion and philosophy. The German Eeformation was the Eenaissance of Christianity ; and in this the Italians had no share, though it should be remembered that, without their previous labours in the field of scholarship, the band who led the Eeformation could hardly have given that high intellectual character to the movement which made it a new starting-point hi the history of the reason. To expect from Italy the ethical regeneration of the modern world would be 16 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY to misapprehend her true vocation ; art and erudition were sufficient to engage her spiritual energies. The Church, again, though by no means adverse to laxity :a morals, was jealous of heterodoxy. So long as freethinkers confined their audacity to such matters as form the topic of Poggio's 'Facetiae,' Beccadelli's ' Hermaphroditus,' or La Casa's * Capitolo del Forno,' the Eoman Curia looked on and smUed approvingly. The most obscene books to be found in any literature escaped the Papal censure, and Aretino, notorious for ribaldry, aspired not wholly without reason to the scarlet of a cardinal. But even in the fifteenth century the taint of heresy was dangerous, and this peril was magnified when the Lutheran schism had roused the Papacy to a sense of , its position. Under the patronage, therefore, of ecclesiastics, in the depraved atmosphere of Eome, the free thought of the Italians turned to licentiousness ; this suited the temper of the people, fascinated by Paganism and little inclined to raise debate upon matters of no practical utiUty. Those who reflected on religious topics kept their own counsel. How purely political were the views of profound thinkers in Italy upon aU Church questions may be gathered from the observations of Guicciardini and Machiavelli ; how little the most earnest antagonist of ungodly ecclesiastics dreamed of disturbing the Catholic Church system is clear in the bio graphy of Savonarola.1 The first satire of Ariosto may be indicated as an epitome of the opinions entertained by sound and liberal intellects in Italy upon the relation of Papal Eome to the nation. There is not a trace in it of Teutonic revolt against authority, of pious yearning for a purer faith. The standpoint of the critic, though solid and sincere, is worldly. True to culture as their main preoccupation, the Italian 1 See Vol. I., Age of Despots, pp. 239, 350-356, 415-420, where I have endeavoured to treat these topics more at length. THE FAITH OF CULTURE 17 thinkers sought to philosophise faith by bringing Christianity into harmony with antique speculation, and forming for themselves a theism that should embrace the systems of the Platonists and Stoics, the Hebrew Cabbala and the Sermon on the Mount. There is much that strikes us as both crude and pedantic, at the same time infantine and pompous, in the systems elaborated by those pioneers of modern eclec ticism. They lack the vigorous simplicity that gave its force to Luther's intuition, the sublime unity of Spinoza's deductions. The dross of erudition mingles with the pure gold of personal conviction ; while Pagan phrases, iU suited to express Christian notions, lend an air of unreality to the sincerest efforts after rational theology. The Platonic Aca demy of Florence was the centre of this search after the faith of culture, whereof the real merit was originality, and the true force lay in the conviction that humanity is one and indivisible. Its apostles were Pico della Mirandola and Ficino. It found lyrical expression in verses like the following, translated by me from the Greek hexameters of Poliziano : — 0 Father, Lord enthroned on gold, that dwellest in high heaven, O King of all things, deathless God, Thou Pan supreme, celestial I That seest all, and movest all, and all with might sustainest, Older than oldest time, of all first, last, and without ending ! The firmament of blessed souls, of stars the heavenly splendour, The giant sun himself, the moon that in her circle shineth, And streams and fountains, earth and sea, are things of Thy creating. Thou givest life to aU ; all these Thou with Thy Spirit fillesf. The powers of earth and powers of heaven, and they in pain infernal Who pine below the roots of earth, all these obey Thy bidding. Behold, I call upon Thee now, Thy creature on earth dwelling, Poor, short of life, O God, of clay a mean unworthy mortal, Bepenting sorely of my sins, and tears of sorrow shedding. 0 God, immortal Father, hear 1 I cry to Thee ; be gracious, And from my breast of this vain world the soul-enslaving passion, The demon's wiles, the wilful lust, that damns the impious, banish ! Wash throughly allmy heart with Thypure Spirit's ramabundant, That I may love Thee, Lord, alone, Thee, King of kings, forjifiR- II 18 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY This is but a poor substitute for the Lord's Prayer. HeU and purgatory are out of place in its theism, xouo-o'fyovos and a'Oepi vaCwv are tawdry epithets for - Our Father which art in heaven.' Yet it is precisely in these contradictions and confusions that we trace the sincerity of the Eenaissance spirit, seeking to fuse together the vitality of the old faith and the forms of novel culture, worshipping a Deity created in the image of its own mind, composite ana incoherent. Physically, the ItaUans of the Eenaissance were equal to any task they chose to set themselves. Ho mistake is greater than to suppose that, because the summer climate of Italy is hotter than our own, therefore her children must be languid, pleasure-loving, and relaxed. Twelve months spent in Tuscany would suffice to dissipate iUusions about the enervating Italian air, even if the history of ancient Eome were not a proof that the hardiest race of combatants and conquerors the world has ever seen were nurtured between Soracte and the sea. After the downfall of the Empire, what remained of native vigour in the Latin cities found a refuge in the lagoons of Venice and other natural strongholds. WaUed towns in general retained a Eoman population. The primitive Italic races still existed in the vaUeys of the Apen nines, while the Ligurians held the Genoese Eiviera ; nor were the Etruscans extinct in Tuscany. It is true that Eome had fused these races into a people using the same language. Yet- the ethnologist wiU hardly aUow that the differences noticeable between the several districts of Italy were not connected with original varieties of stock. To the people, as Eome had made it, fresh blood was added by the Goths, Lombards, and Germans descending from the North. Greeks, Arabs, Normans, and, in course of time, Franks influenced the South. During the Middle Ages a new and mighty breed of men sprang into being by the combination of these diverse elements, each district deriving specific quality from the vary- THE PHYSIQUE OF THE ITALIANS 19 ing proportions in which the chief constituents were mingled. It is noticeable that where the Eoman-Etruscan blood was purest probably from mixture, in the vaUey of the Arno, the modern Itahan genius found its home. Florence and her sister cities formed the language and the arts of Italy. To this race, in conjunction with the natives of Lombardy and Central Italy, was committed the civilisation of Europe in the fifteenth century. It was only south of Eome, where the brutaUsing traditions of the Eoman latifundia had never yielded to the burgh-creating impulse of the Middle Ages, that the Itahans were unfit for their great duty. On these southern states the Empire of the East, Saracen marauders and Norman conquerors, the French and the Spanish dynasties, had successively exercised a pernicious influence ; nor did the imperial policy of Frederick II. remain long enough in operation to effect a radical improvement in the people. Even at Naples culture was always an exotic. Else where throughout the peninsula the Italians of the new age were a noble nation, gifted with physical, emotional, and mental faculties in splendid harmony. In some districts, notably in Florence, circumstance and climate had been singularly favourable to the production of such glorious human beings as the world has rarely seen. Beauty of person, strength of body, and civiUty of manners were com bined in the men of that favoured region with inteUectual endowments of the highest order: nor were these gifts of nature confined to a caste apart ; the whole population formed an aristocracy of genius. In order to comprehend the greatness of this Italian type in the Eenaissance, it is only needful to study the pieturs gaUeries of Florence or of Venice with special attention to the portraits they contain. When we compare those senators and sages with the subjects of Diirer's and of Cranach'a art, we feel the physical superiority of the Italians. In lika o 2 20 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY manner a comparison of the men of the fifteenth century with those of the sixteenth shows how much of that physical grandeur had been lost. It is easy to wander astray while weaving subtle theories on this path of criticism. Yet it cannot be a mere accident that Vandyck's portrait of the Cardinal de' Bentivogli in the Pitti Palace differs as it does from that of the Cardinal Ippolito de' Medici by Pontormo or by Titian. The Medici is an Italian of the Eenaissance, with his imperious originality and defiance of convention. He has refused to be portrayed as an ecclesiastic. Titian has painted him in Hungarian costume of dark red velvet, moustached, and sworded like a soldier ; in Pontormo's picture he wears a suit of maU, and rests his left hand on a large white hound. The Bentivoglio is an Italian of the type pro duced by the Counter-Eeformation. His delicate lace ruffs, the coquetry of his scarlet robes, and the fine keen cut of his diplomatic features betray a new spirit.1 Surely the physical qualities of a race change with the changes in their thought and feeling. The beauty of Tasso is more feminine and melancholy than that of Ariosto, in whom the Uberal genius of the Eenaissance was yet alive. Among the scowling swordsmen of the seventeenth century you cannot find a face like Giorgione's Gattamelata ; 2 the nobles who bear them selves so proudly on the canvases of Vandyck at Genoa lack the urbanity of Eaphael's Castiglione ; Moroni's black-robed students are more pinched and withered than the Pico of the Uffizzi. It will not do to strain such points. It is enough to suggest them. What remains, however, for certain is that the Italians of the fifteenth century — and among these must 1 It would be easy to multiply these contrasts, comprising, for example, the Cardinals Inghirami and Bibbiena and the Leo of Baphae] with the Farnesi portraits at Modena or the grave faces of Moroni's patrons at Bergamo. - Portrait in the Uffizzi, ascribed to Giorgione, but more probably by some pupil of Mantegna. PHYSICAL EXEECISES 81 be included those who lived through the first half of the sixteenth — had physical force and character corresponding to their robust individuaUty. Until quite late in the Eenais sance so much survived of feudal customs even in Italy that riding, the handling of the lance and sword, and all athletic exercises formed a part of education no less indispensable than mental training. Great cities had open places set apart for tournaments and games ; in Tuscan burghs the paUo was run on feast days, and May mornings saw the prentice lads of Florence tilting beneath the smiles of girls who danced at nightfaU on the square of Santa Trinita. Bloody battles in the streets were frequent. The least provocation caused a man to draw his dagger. Combats a steccato chiuso were among the pastimes to which a Pope might lend his counte nance. SMU in swordsmanship was therefore a necessity. For the rest, we learn from CastigUone that the perfect gentleman was bound to be an accomphshed dancer, a bold rider, a skiUed wrestler, a swift runner, to shoot weU at the mark, to hurl the javelin and the quoit with grace, and to play at tennis and pallone. In addition he ought to affect some one athletic exercise in such perfection as to beat pro fessors of the same on their own ground. Cesare Borgia took pride in felling an ox at a single blow, and exhibited his marksman's cunning by shooting condemned criminals in a courtyard of the Vatican. That such men should have devoted their energies to inteUectual culture at a time when Enghsh nobles could barely read or write, and when the chivalry of France regarded learning with disdain, was a proof of their rich natural endowments. Nor was the determination of the race to scholarship in any sense an accident. Throughout the length and breadth of Italy, memories of ancient greatness spurred her children on to emulation. Ghosts of Eoman patriots and poets seemed hovering round their graves, and 22 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY calling on posterity to give them life again. If we cannot bring back Greece and Eome, at least let us make Florence a second Athens, and restore the Muses to Ausonian vales. That was the cry. It was while gazing on the ruins of Eome that Villani felt impelled to write his chronicle. Pavia honoured Boethius Uke a saint. Mantua struck coins with the head of VirgU, and Naples pointed out his tomb. Padua boasted of Livy, and Como of the PUnies. ' Sulmona,' cried Boccaccio, ' mourns because she holds not Ovid's dust ; and Parma is glad that Cassius rests within her walls.' Such reverence for the great men of antiquity endured throughout the Middle Ages, creating myths that swayed the fancy, and forming in the popular consciousness a presentiment of the approaching age. There is something pathetic in the sur vival of old Eoman titles, in the freak of the legend-making imagination that gave to Orlando the style of Eoman senator, in the outburst of enthusiasm for Eienzi when he caUed himself Tribunus Populi Eomani. With the Eenaissance itself this affection for the past became a passion. Pius H. amnestied the people of Arpino because they were feUow- citizens of Cicero. Alfonso of Naples received as a most precious gift from Venice a bone supposed to be the leg of Livy. AU the patricians of Italy invented classical pedi grees; and even Paul IL, because he was called Barbo, claimed descent from the Ahenobarbi. Such instances might be multiplied indefinitely. It is, however, more to the pur pose here to notice that in Italy this adoration of the antique world was common to all classes ; not students alone, but the people at large regarded the dead grandeur of the classic age as their especial heritage. To resuscitate that buried glory, and to reunite themselves with the past, was the earnest aim of the Italians as a nation. A conviction prevailed that the modern world could never be so radiant as the old. This found its expression in the saying that Eome's chief orna- PASSION FOR ANTIQUITY 23 ments were her ruins ; in the belief that JuUa's corpse, dis covered in the Appian Way, surpassed all living maidens; in Matarazzo's observation that Astorre Baglioni's body was worthy of an ancient Eoman. In their admiration for antiquity, scholars were blind to the specific glories of the modern genius. Lionardo Bruni, for example, exclaimed that 'the ancient Greeks by far excelled us Italians in humanity and gentleness of heart.' Yet what Greek poem can be compared for tenderness with Dante's ' Vita Nuova,' with the ' Canzoniere ' of Petrarch, or with the tale of Griselda in Boccaccio ? Gentilezza di cuore was the most charac teristic product of chivalry, and the fourth iEneid is the only classic masterpiece of pure romantic pathos. This humility of discipleship was not, however, strong enough to check emulation. On the contrary, the yearning towards antiquity acted Uke a potent stimulus on personal endeavour, generating an acute desire for fame, a burning aspiration to be numbered with the mighty men of old. When Virgil introduced Dante to the company of Homer and his peers, the rank of sesto tra cotanto sennn rewarded him for all his labour in the rhyme that made him thin through half a lifetime. Petrarch, who exceeded Dante in the thirst for Uterary honour, turned from the men of his generation to converse in long epistles with the buried saints of Latin culture. For men of less am bition it was enough to feel that they could raise their souls through study to communion with the stately spirits of antiquity, passing hke MachiaveUi from trivial affairs into their closet, where they donned their reading-robes and shook hands across the centuries with Cicero or Livy. It was the universal object of the humanists to gain a consciousness of self distinguished from the vulgar herd, and to achieve this by joining the great company of bards and sages, whose glorj could not perish. Whoever felt within himself the stirring of the spirit under »4 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY any form, sought earnestly for fame ; and in this way a new social atmosphere, unknown to the nations of the Middle Ages, was formed in Italy. A large and Uberal acceptance, recognising abUity of aU kinds, irrespective of rank or piety or martial prowess, displaced the narrower judgments of the Church and feudalism. Giotto, the peasant's son, ranked higher in esteem than Cimabue, the Florentine citizen, because his work of art was worthier. Petrarch had his place in no official capacity, but as an honoured equal, at the marriage feasts of princes. Poliziano corresponded with kings, promising immortality as a more than regal favour. Pomponius Lsetus could afford to repel the advances of the Sanseverini, feeling that erudition ranked him higher than his princely kinsmen. It was not wealth or policy alone that raised the Medici among the Despots so far above the Baglioni of Perugia or the Petrucci of Siena. They owed this distinction rather to their comprehension of the craving of their age for culture. Thus though birth commanded respect for its own sake, a new standard of eminence had been established, and personal merit was the passport which carried the meanest into the most Ulustrious company. Men of all conditions and all quaUfications met upon the common ground of intellectual intercourse. The subjects they dis cussed may be gathered from the introductions to Firen- zuola's novels, from Bembo's 'Asolani' and Castiglione's ' Cortegiano,' from Guicciardini's ' Dialogue on Florence,' or from the ' Camaldolese Discourses ' of Landino. Society of this kind existed nowhere else in Europe. To Italy belongs the proud priority of having invented the art of poUte con versation, and anticipated the French salon after an original and urbane fashion of her own. Under these conditions a genuine cultus of intellect sprang up in Italy. Princes and people shared a common impulse to worship the mental superiority of men who had THE CULT OF INTELLECT 25 no claim to notice but their genius. It was in the spirit of this hero-worship that the terrible Gismondo Pandolfo Malatesta transferred to Eimini the bones of Pletho, and wrote his impassioned epitaph upon the sarcophagus outside Alberti's church. The biographies of the humanists abound in stories of singular honours paid to men of parts, not only by princes who rejoiced in their society, but also by cities receiving them with pubhc acclamation. And, as it often happens that a parody reveals the nature of the art it travesties, such hght is thrown upon our subject by the vile Pietro Aretino, who, because he was a man of talent and unscrupulous in its employment, held kings and potentates beneath his satyr's hoof. It is not, however, needful to go thus far afield for instances. Some lines of our own poet Webster exactly describe the CathoUcity of the Eenaissance, which first obtained in Italy for men of marked abihties, and after wards to some extent prevaUed at large in Europe : — Virtue is ever sowing of her seeds : In the trenches for the soldier ; in the wakeful study For the scholar ; in the furrows of the sea For men of our profession : of aU which Arise and spring up honour. The virtue here described bears the Italian sense of virtu. the Latin virtus, the Greek a.perr\, that which makes a man. It might display itself in a thousand ways; but all alike brought honour, and honour every man was bound to seek. The standard whereby the Italians judged this virtue was aesthetical rather than moral. They were too dazzled by briUiant achievement to test it in the crucible of ethics. This is the true key to MachiaveUi's critique of Castruccio Castracane, Gianpaolo BagUoni, Cesare Borgia, and Piero Soderini. In common with his race, he was fascinated by character, and attached undue importance to the force that made men seek success even through crime. 26 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY The thirst for glory and the worship of ability stimulated the Italians, earlier than any other nation, to commemorate what seemed to them noteworthy in their 'own Uves and in those of their contemporaries. Dante, within the pale of medievalism, led the way in both of these directions. His ' Vita Nuova ' is a chapter of autobiography restrained within the hmits of consummate art. His portraits of S. Francis and S. Dominic (not to mention other medalhons and cameos of predecessors or contemporaries— Farinata, for example, or Boniface VIII.) record the special quaUties whereby those heroes of the faith were distinguished from the herd of men around them. Boccaccio's ' Life of Dante ' is a further step in the direction of purely modern biography. Then foUow the collections of FiUppo Villani, Giovanni Cavalcanti, Vespa siano, Platina, Decembrio, BeccadeUi, Caracciolo, and Paolo Giovio. Vasari's ' Lives of the Painters ' are unique in their attempt to embrace within a single work whatever struck their author as most characteristic in the career of one par ticular class of men. For historical precision the portraits composed by Machiavelli, Guicciardini, Varchi, Pitti, and many of the minor annaUsts leave nothing to be desired. Such autobiographies as those of Petrarch, CeUini, Cardano, and Cornaro are models in their kind ; whether their object were simply self-glorification, or whether a scientific and didactic purpose underlay the chronicle of a lifetime, the re- Bult is equally vivid and interesting. Hero-worship prompted Gian Francesco Pico to compose the ' Life of Savonarola,' and Condivi to write that of Michael Angelo. Scorn and hatred impeUed Platina to transmit the outline of Paul II. to pos terity in a caricature, the irony of which is so restrained that it might pass for sincerity. MachiaveUi's ' Biography of Cas truccio ' is a political romance indited with a phUosophical intention. What motive, beyond admiration, produced 'the anonymous ' Memoir of Alberti,' so terse in its portraiture, so IDEAL CHARACTERS 27 tranquil in style, we do not know ; but this too, like Prendi- lacqua's 'Life of Vittorino da Feltre,' is a masterpiece of natural delineation. For these biographies the works of Plutarch and Suetonius served no doubt as models. Yet this does not make the preoccupation of the ItaUans with the phenomena of personahty the less remarkable. Another phase of the same impulse led to special treatises upon ideal characters. The picture of the perfect householder was drawn by Alberti, that of the courtier by Castiglione, that of the prince by MachiavelU. Da Vinci discoursed upon the physical proportions of the human form. Firenzuola and Luigini analysed the beauty of women ; Piccolomini under took to describe the manners of a well-bred lady; and La Casa laid down rules for polite behaviour in society. The names of treatises of this description might easUy be multi- pUed. Enough, however, has been said to show the tendency of the Itahan inteUect to occupy itself with salient quaUties, whether exhibited in individuals or idealised and abstracted by the reflective fancy. The whole of this literature implies an intense self-consciousness in the nation, an ardent interest in men as men, because of the specific virtue to be found in each. The spirit, therefore, in which these authors of the Eenaissance approached their task was wholly different from that which induced the mediasval annalist to register the miracles of saints, to chronicle the princes of some dynasty or the abbots of a convent. Nor had it much in common with the mythologising enthusiasm of romantic poets. The desire for edification and the fire of fancy had yielded to an impulse more stri&tly scientific, to a curiosity more positive. The attention directed in Uterature and social intercourse upon great men impUed a corresponding thirst for posthumous glory as a subjective quality of the Eenaissance character. To perpetuate a name and fame was the most fervent passion, shared alike by artists and princes, by men of letters and by 28 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY generals. It was not enough for a man to show forth the vigour that was in him, or to win the applause of his con temporaries. He must go beyond and wrest something per manent for himself from the ideal world that wiU survive our transient endeavours. When Alfonso the MagnanimouB employed Fazio to compose his chronicle, when Francesco Sforza paid Filelfo for his verses by the dozen, when Cosimo de' Medici regretted that he had not spent more wealth on bunding, when Bartolommeo Colleoni decreed the erection of his chapel at Bergamo, and his statue on the pubhc square of Venice, these men, so different in all things else, were striving, each after his own fashion, to buy an immortality his own achievements in the field or Senate might not win. Dante, here as elsewhere the first to utter the word of the modern age, has given expression to this thirst for lasting recoUection in his lines about the planet Mercury : ' — Questa picciola stella si correda De' buoni spirti, che son stati attivi, Perche onore e fama gh succeda. At the same time Dante, imbued with the mystic spirit of the Middle Ages, felt an antagonism between worldly ambition and the ideal of the Christian life. There are other passages, where fame is mentioned by him as a fleet. ing breath, a flower that blooms and fades.2 In truth, the passionate desire for glory was part of the Eenaissance worldliness, caught from communion with the classic past, and connected with that vivid apprehension of human life which gave its vigour to an age of reawakened impulses and positive ambitions. This world was so much with them, so much to them, that these men would not lose their grasp of it in death, or willingly exchange it for a paradise of hopes beyond. The enthusiasm for antiquity coloured this desire for • Paradiso, vi. 112. * Notably Purg. xi. 100-117. IMMOETALITY THROUGH LITEEATUEE 89 fame by forcing on the Italians the conviction that in culture was the real title to eternity. How could they have entered into the spiritual kingdom of the Greeks and Eomans, if it had not been for MSS. and works of art? It became the fashion, therefore, to seek immortality through literature. The study of the classics was not then confined to men of a pecuhar bent. On all aUke, even on women, there weighed the one belief that to be a scholar was the surest way of saving something from the wreck that is the doom of human deeds.1 Only at rare intervals, and in rare natures of the type of Michael Angelo, did the Christian ideal resume its sway. Tired with the radiance of art or learning, they turned to the Cross of Christ, and laid their secular achieve ments down as vain and worthless. The time, however, had not yet come when a disgust of culture and an exhaustion of the inteUect should make asceticism and monastic ecstasy acceptable once more. That belonged to the age of Spanish tyranny, and what is caUed the Counter-Eeformation. For the real Eenaissance Leo's memorable imprimatur, granted to the editors of Tacitus, struck the true key-note ; while Sappho's solemn lines of warning to a friend careless of literature might be paraphrased to speak the feeling of Poli ziano : — Lo, thou shalt die, And lie Dumb in the silent tomb ; Nor of thy name Shall there be any fame In ages yet to be or years to coma : For of the rose That on Pieria blows Thou hast no share ; But in sad Hades' house, Unknown, inglorious, Mid the dim shades that wander there, Shalt thou flit forth and haunt the filmy air. 1 A curious echo of this Italian conviction may be traced In Fletcher's Elder Brother. SO RENAISSANCE IN ITALY These words found no uncertain echo in Eenaissance Italy, where lads with long dark hair and liquid eyes left their loves to listen to a pedant's lectures, where Niccolo de' NiccoU wooed Piero de' Pazzi from a life of pleasure by the promise of a spiritual kingdom in the world of books. Piero was ' a man born with thy face and throat, Lyric ApoUo ! ' His only object was to enjoy — darsi buon tempo, as the phrase of Florence hath it. Yet these words of the student : ' Seeing thou art the son of such a man, and of comely person, it is a shame thou dost not give thyself to learn Latin, the which would be unto thee a great ornament ; and if thou dost not learn it, thou wUt be nought esteemed ; the flower of youth once passed, thou wUt find thyself without virtue ' — these words carried such weight, and sank so deeply into the young man's heart, that, smitten with the love of learning, he forsook his boon companions, engaged Pontano as house-tutor at a salary of one hundred golden florins, and spent his leisure time in learning Livy and the ' iEneid ' by heart.1 What he sought he gained; his name is stiU re corded, now that not only the bloom of youth, but Ufe itself has passed away, and he has slept for nearly four centuries in Florentine earth. Yet we, no less wearied of erudition than Faust was, when he held the cup of laudanum in his hand and heard the Easter voices singing, may well ask ourselves what Piero carried with him to the grave more than Sardanapalus, over whom the Greeks inscribed their bitter epitaphs. Disenchanted and disillusioned as we are by those four centuries of learning, the musical lament of 1 Vespasiano, Vita di Piero de' Pazzi. Compare the beautiful letter of iEneas Sylvius Piccolomini to his nephew (Ep. Lib. i. 4). He reminds the young man that fair as youth is, and delightful as are the pleasures of the May of life, learning is more fair and knowledge more delightful. 'Non enim Lucifer aut Hesperus tam pulcher est quam sapientia qua* studiis acquiritur litterarum.' Hellenic Parallels 31 Dido and the stately periods of Latin prose are little better, considered as spiritual sustenance, to us than the husks that the swine did eat. How can we picture to ourselves the conditions of an age when scholarship was an evangel, forcing the Levis of Florence by the persuasion of its irresistible beauty to forsake the tables of the money-changers, tempting young men of great possessions to sell all and give to the Muses, making of Lucrezia Borgia herself the Magdalen of polite Uterature? Fortunately for the civihsation of the modern world, the men of the Eenaissance, untroubled by a surfeit of knowledge, made none of these reflections. It was an age of sincere faith in the goodness and the glory of the inteUect revealed by art and letters. When we read Vespasiano's account of the grey-haired Niccolo accosting the young Pazzi on the steps of the BargeUo, our mind turns instinctively to an earlier dayspring of the reason in ancient Greece ; we think of the charm exercised by Socrates over Critias and Alcibiades : and had an Aristophanes appeared in Italy, we fancy how he might have criticised this seduction of the youth from citizenship and arms to tranquU contem plations and the cosmopohtan interests of culture . It is not without real reason that these Hellenic paraUels confront us in the study of ItaUan Eenaissance. Florence borrowed her hght from Athens, as the moon shines with rays reflected from the sun. The Eevival was the silver age of that old golden age of Greece. In a literal, not a merely metaphorical sense, the fifteenth century witnessed a new birth of the classic spirit. And what, let us ask ourselves, since here at last is the burning point of our inquiry, what was the true note of this spirit, in so far as its recovery con cerned the Italian race? Superficial observers will speak of the Paganism of the Eenaissance, its unblushing license, its worldliness, its self-satisfied sensuality, as though that were all, as though these quaUties were not inherent in human »2 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY nature, ready at any moment to emerge when the strain of nobler enthusiasm is relaxed, or the self-preservative instincts of society are enfeebled. There is indeed a truth in this rough and ready answer, which requires to be stated on the thresh old. The contact of the modern with the ancient world did encourage a profligate and godless mode of living in men who preferred Petronius to S. Paul, and yearned less after Gahlee than Corinth. The humanists were distinguished even above the Eoman clergy for open disorder in their lives. They developed filthy speaking as a special branch of rhetoric, and professed the science of recondite and obsolete obscenity. It was just this fashion of the learned classes that made Erasmus mistrust the importation of scholarship into the North. ' One scruple still besets my mind,' he wrote, ' lest under the cloak of revived hterature Paganism should strive to raise its head, there being among Christians men who, while they recognise the name of Christ, breathe in their hearts the spirit of the GentUes.' Christianity, especiaUy in Italy, where the spec tacle of the Holy See inspired disgust, had been prostituted to the vilest service by the Church.1 Faith was associated with folly, superstition, ignorance, intolerance, and cruelty. The manners of the clergy were in flagrant discord with the Gospel, and Antichrist found fitter incarnation in Eoderigo Borgia than in Nero. While the essence of religion was thus sacrificed by its professors, there appeared upon the horizon of the modern world, hke some bright blazing star, the ideal of that Pagan civilisation against which in its decadence the ascendant force of Christianity had striven. It was not un natural that a reaction in favour of Paganism, now that the Church had been found wanting, should ensue, or that the passions of humanity should justify their self-indulgence by appealing to the precedents of Greece and Eome. Good and 1 It is enough to refer to Luther's Table Talk upon the state of Borne in Leo's reign. DEMORALISATION OF ITALIAN SOCIETY 83 bad were mingled in the classical tradition. Vices, loathsome enough in a Pope who had instituted the censure of the press; seemed venial when combined with the manliness of Hadrian or the refined charm of CatuUus. Sin itself lost half its evil coming from the new-found Holy Land of culture. StiU this so-caUed Paganism of the Eenaissance, real as it was, had but a superficial connection with classical studies. The cor ruption of the Church and the political degeneracy of the commonwealths had quite as much to do with it as the return to heathen standards. Nor could the Eenaissance have been the great world-historical era it truly was, if such demoralisa tion had been a part and parcel of its essence. Crimes and vices are not the hotbed of arts and literature : lustful priests and cruel despots were not necessary to the painting of Eaphael or the poetry of Ariosto. The faults of the Italians in the age of the Eenaissance were neither productive of their high achievements, nor conversely were they generated by the motion of the intellect toward antique forms of culture. The historian notes synchronisms, whereof he is not bound to prove tha interdependence, and between which he may feel there is no causal Unk. It does not, moreover, appear that the demoraUsation of ItaUan society, however this may have been brought about, produced either physical or intellectual degeneration in the people. Commercial prosperity, indeed, had rendered them inferior in brute strength to their semi-barbarous neighbours ; whUe the cosmopolitan interests of culture had destroyed the energy of national instincts. But it would be wrong to charge their neopaganism alone with results whereof the causes were so complex. Meanwhile, what gave its deep importance to the classical revival, was the emancipation of the reason, consequent upon the discovery that the best gifts of the spirit had been enjoyed by the nations of antiquity. An ideal of existence distinct n D 34 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY/ from that imposed upon the Middle Ages by the Church, was revealed in all its secular attractiveness. Fresh value was given to the desires and aims, enjoyments and activities of man, considered as a noble member of the universal hfe, and not as a diseased excrescence on the world he helped to spoU. Instead of the cloistral service of the ' Imitatio Christi,' that conception of communion, through knowledge, with God manifested in His works and in the soul of man, which forms the indestructible religion of science and the reason, was already generated. The inteUect, after lying speU-bound during a long night, when thoughts were as dreams and movement as somnambuUsm, resumed its activity, interro gated nature, and enjoyed the pleasures of unimpeded energy. Without ceasing to be Christians (for the moral principles of Christianity are the inahenable possession of the human race), the men of the Eevival dared once again to exercise their thought as boldly as the Greeks and Eomans had done before them. More than this, they were now able, as it were, by the resuscitation of a lost faculty, to do so freely and clear sightedly. The touch upon them of the classic spirit was hke the finger of a deity giving hfe to the dead. That more and nobler use was not made of the new light which dawned upon the world in the Eevival ; that the humanists abandoned the high standpoint of Petrarch for a lower and more literary level; that society assimilated the Hedonism more readUy than the Stoicism of the ancients ; that scholars occupied themselves with the form rather than the matter of the classics ; that all these shortcomings in their several degrees prevented the Itahans from leading the inteUectual movement of the sixteenth century in rehgion and philosophy, as they had previously led the mind of Europe in discovery and literature— is deeply to be lamented by those who are jealous for their honour. For the rest, no words can be found more worthy to express their high conception of THE DIGNITY OF MAN SS man, regarded as a free yet responsible personality, sent into the world to mould his own nature, and by this power of self- determination severed from both brutes and angels, than the foUowing passage from Pico della Mirandola's ' Oration on the Dignity of Man.' It combines antique liberty of thought with Christian faith in a style distinctive of the Eenaissance at its best ; nor is its note of mediaeval cosmology uncharacteristic of an age that divined as yet more than it firmly grasped the realities of modern science. Here, if anywhere, may be hailed the Epiphany of the modern spirit, contraposing God and man in a relation inconceivable to the ancients, unappre hended in its fulness by the Middle Ages. ' Then the Supreme Maker decreed that unto Man, on whom He could bestow nought singular, should belong in common whatsoever had been given to His other creatures. Therefore He took man, made in His own individual image, and having placed him in the centre of the world, spake to him thus : " Neither a fixed abode, nor a form in thine own likeness, nor any gift peculiar to thyself alone, have we given thee, 0 Adam, in order that what abode, what likeness, what gifts thou shalt choose, may be thine to have and to possess. The nature allotted to aU other creatures, within laws appointed by ourselves, restrains them. Thou, restrained by no narrow bounds, according to thy own free wiU, in whose power I have placed thee, shalt define thy nature for thyself. I have set thee midmost the world, that thence thou mightest the more conveniently survey whatsoever is in the world. Nor have we made thee either heavenly or earthly, mortal or immortal, to the end that thou, being, as it were, thy own free maker and moulder, shouldst fashion thyself in what form may like thee best. Thou shalt have power to decline unto the lower or brute creatures. Thou shalt have power to be reborn unto the higher, or divine, according to the sentence of thy intellect." B 2 36 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY Thus to Man, at his birth, the Father gave seeds of aU variety and germs of every form of life.' Out of thoughts hke these, if Italy could only have been free, if her society could have been uncorrupted, if her Church could have returned to the essential truths of Christianity, might have sprung, as from a seed, the noblest growth of human science. But dis aliter visum est. The prologue to this history of culture — the long account taken of selfish tyrants, vicious clergy, and incapable republics, in my ' Age of the Despots ' — is intended to make it clear why the conditions under which the Eevival began in Italy rendered its accom plishment imperfect. 37 CHAPTEE II FIRST PBBIOD OF HUMANISM Importance of the Revival of Learning — Mediaeval Romance — The Legend of Faustus — Its Value for the Eenaissance — The Devotion of Italy to Study — Italian Predisposition for this Labour — Scholarship in the Dark Ages — Double Attitude assumed by the Church— Piety for Virgil — Meagre Acquaintance with the Latin Classics— No Greek Learning — The Spiritual Conditions of the Middle Ages adverse to Pure Literature — Italy no exception to the rest of Europe — Dants and Petrarch — Definition of Humanism — Petrarch's Conception of it — His iEsthetical Temperament — His Cult for Cicero, Zeal in collecting Manuscripts, Sense of the Importance of Greek Studies — Warfare against Pedantry and Superstition — Ideal of Poetry and Ehetoric — Critique of Jurists and Schoolmen — S. Augustine- Petrarch's Vanity — Thirst for Fame — Discord between his Life and his Profession — His Literary Temperament — Visionary Patriotism — His Influence — His Successors — Boccaccio and Greek Studies — Translation of Homer — Philosophy of Literature — Sensuousness of Boccaccio's Inspiration — Giovanni da Eavenna — The Wandering Professor — His Pupils in Latin Scholarship — Luigi Marsigli — The Convent of S. Spirito — Humanism in Politics — Coluccio de' Salutati — Gasparino da Barzizza — Improved Style in Letter- writing — Ee vival of Greek Learning — Manuel Chrysoloras — His Pupils — Lionardo Bruni — Value of Greek for the Eenaissance. I have already observed that it would be inaccurate to identify the whole movement of the Eenaissance with the process whereby the European nations recovered and appropriated the masterpieces of Greek and Latin literature. At the same time this reconquest of the classic world of thought was by far the most important achievement of the fifteenth and six teenth centuries. It absorbed nearly the whole mental energy of the Italians, and determined in a great measure the quality 38 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY of aU their inteUectual production in the period I have under taken to Ulustrate. Through their activity in the field of scholarship the proper starting-point was given to the modern intellect. The revelation of what men were and what they wrought under the influence of other faiths and other impulses, in distant ages with a different ideal for their aim, not only widened the narrow horizon of the Middle Ages, but it also restored self-confidence to the reason of humanity. Eesearch and criticism began to take the place of scholastic speculation. Positive knowledge was substituted for the intuitive guesses of idealists and dreamers. The interests of this world received their due share of attention, and the litterce humaniores of the student usurped upon the divinarum rerum cognitio of theologians. AU through the Middle Ages uneasy and imperfect memo ries of Greece and Eome had haunted Europe. Alexander, the great conqueror; Hector, the noble knight and lover; Helen, who set Troy town on fire ; Virgil, the magician ; Dame Venus lingering about the hill of Horsel — these phantoms, whereof the positive historic truth was lost, remained to sway the soul and stimulate desire in myth and saga. Deprived of actual knowledge, imagination transformed what it re membered of the classic age into romance. The fascination exercised by these dreams of a half-forgotten past over the mediasval fancy expressed itself in the legend of Doctor Faustus. That legend tells us what the men upon the eve of the Eevival longed for, and what they dreaded, when they turned their minds towards the past. The secret of enjoy ment and the source of strength possessed by the ancients, allured them ; but they believed that they could only recover this lost treasure by the suicide of their soul. So great was the temptation that Faustus paid the price. After imbibing aU the knowledge of his age, he sold himself to the DevU, in order that his thirst for experience might be quenched, his DR. FAUSTUS 3» grasp upon the world be strengthened, and the ennui of his inactivity be soothed. His first use of this dearly-bought power was to make blind Homer sing to him. Amphion tunes his harp in concert with Mephistopheles. Alexander rises from the dead at his behest, with all his legionaries ; and Helen is given to him for a bride. Faustus is therefore a parable of the impotent yearnings of the sphit in the Middle Ages — its passionate aspiration, its conscience-stricken desire, its fettered curiosity amid the cramping limits of imperfect knowledge and irrational dogmatism. That for which Faustus sold his soul, the freedom he acquired by magic, the sense of beauty he gratified through visions, the knowledge he gained by interrogation of demons, was yielded to the world without price at the time of the Eenaissance. Homer, no longer by the intervention of a fiend, but by the labour of the scholar, sang to the new age. The pomp of the empires of the old world was restored in the pages of historians. The inde structible beauty of Greek art, whereof Helen was an emblem, became, through the discovery of classic poetry and sculpture the possession of the modern world. MediaevaUsm took this Helen to wife, and their offspring, the Euphorion of Goethe's drama, is the spirit of the modern world. But how was this effected ? By long and toUsome study, by the accumulation of MSS., by the acquisition of dead languages, by the solitary labour of grammarians, by the lectures of itinerant professors, by the scribe, by the printing press, by the self-devotion of magnificent Italy to erudition. In this way the Eenaissance realised the dream of the Middle Ages, and the genius of the ItaUans wrought by sohd toU what the myth-making imagina tion of the Germans had projected in a poem. It is impossible to exaggerate the benefit conferred upon Europe by the Itahans at this epoch. The culture of the classics had to be reappropriated before the movement of the modern mind could begin : before the nations could start upon 4ft RENAISSANCE IN ITALY a new career of progress, the chasm between the old and new world had to be bridged over. This task of reappropriation the Italians undertook alone, and achieved at the sacrifice of their literary independence and their pohtical freedom. The history of Eenaissance literature in Italy is the history of a national genius deviating from the course of self- development into the channels of scholarship and antiquarian research. The language created by Dante as a thing of power, pohshed by Petrarch as a thing of beauty, trained by Boccaccio as the instrument of melodious prose, was abandoned even by the Tuscans in the fifteenth century for revived Latin and newly- discovered Greek. Patent acquisition took the place of proud inventiveness ; laborious imitation of classical authors sup pressed originaUty of style. The force of mind which in the fourteenth century had produced a 'Divine Comedy' and a ' Decameron,' in the fifteenth was expended upon the in terpretation of codices, the settlement of texts, the transla tion of Greek books into Latin, the study of antiquities, the composition of commentaries, encyclopaedias, dictionaries, ephemerides. While we regret this change from creative to acquisitive Uterature, we must bear in mind that those scholars who ought to have been poets accomplished nothing less than the civilisation, or, to use their own phrase, the humanisation, of the modern world.1 At the critical moment when the Eastern Empire was being shattered by the Turks, and when the other European nations were as yet unfit for culture, Italy saved the arts and sciences of Greece and Eome, and interpreted the spirit of the classics. Devoting hersetf to what appears the slavish work of compilation and coUection, she transmitted an inestimable treasure to the human race ; and though for a time the beautiful Italian tongue was super seded by a jargon of dead languages, yet the literature of the 1 Poliziano, Pontano, Sannazzaro, and Bembo divided their powers between scholarship and poetry, to the injury of the latter. THE PAST OF ITALY 41 Renaissance yielded in the end the poetry of Ariosto, the poUtical phUoaophy of Machiavelli, the histories of Guicciar dini and Varchi. Meanwhile the whole of Europe had received the staple of its mteUectual education. It is necessary to repeat the observation that this absorp tion of energy in the task of scholarship was no less natural to the ItaUans than necessary for the world at large. The ItaUans were not a new nation like the Franks and Germans. Nothing is more remarkable in the mediasval history of Italy than the sense, shared alike by poets and jurists, by the leaders of popular insurrections and the moulders of philo sophic thought, that the centre of national vitality existed in the Eoman Empire. It was this determination to look back ward rather than forward, to trust the past rather than the present, that neutraUsed the forces of the Lombard League, and prevented the communes from asserting their independ ence face to face with foreigners who claimed to be the representatives of Cassar. The ItaUans, unlike any other European people, sacrificed the reality of poUtical freedom for the idea of majesty and glory, to be recovered by the restitu tion of the Empire. GueU and Ghibelline coincided in this delusion, that Eome, whether Papal or Imperial, was destined stUl to place the old Italic stock upon the throne of civiUsed humanity. When the three great authors of the thirteenth century appeared, each in turn cast his eyes to ancient Eome as the true source of national greatness. The language of modern Italy was known to be a scion of the Latin speech, and the ItaUans caUed themselves Latini. The attempt to conform their Uterature to the Eoman type was therefore felt to be but a return to its true standard ; the ' iEneid ' of Virgil was their Nibelungen-Lied. Thus the humanistic enthu siasm of the fifteenth century assumed an almost patriotic character. In it, moreover, the doctrine that had ruled the Middle Ages, interrupting poUtical cohesion without acquiring 42 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY the consistency of fact, attained at last its proper sphere of development. The ideal of Dante in the ' De Monarchia ' had proved a baseless dream ; no emperor was destined to take his seat in Eome and sway the world. But the ideal of Petrarch was realised ; the scholars, animated by his impulse, reacquired the birthright of culture which belonged of old to Italy, and made her empress of the inteUect for Europe. Not poUtical but spiritual supremacy was the real heritage of these new Eomans. As an introduction to the history of the Eevival, and in order that the work to be performed by the Itahan students may be accurately measured, it wiU be necessary to touch briefly upon the state of scholarship during the dark ages. To underrate the achievement of that period, especially in logic, theology, and law, is only too easy, seeing that a new direction was given to the mind of Europe by the Eenaissance, and that we have moved continuously on other lines to other objects since the opening of the fifteenth century. Mediasval thought was both acute and strenuous in its own region of activity. What it lacked was material outside the speculative sphere to feed upon. Culture, in our . sense of the word, did not exist, and the inteUect was forced to deal subtly with a very limited class of conceptions. Long before the fall of the Eoman Empire it became clear that both fine arts and literature were graduaUy de clining. Sculpture in the age of Constantine had lost dis tinction of style ; and though the practice of verse survived as a rhetorical exercise, no works of original genius were pro duced. Ausonius and Claudian, just before the division of the Empire and the irruption of the barbarian races, uttered the last swan's note of classic poetry. Meanwhile true taste and criticism were extinct.1 The Church, while battling with 1 For the low state of criticism, even in a good age, see Aulus GeUius, lib. xiv. cap. vi. He describes the lecture of a rhetor, guispiam RELATION OF THE CHURCH TO LITERATURE 43 Paganism, recognised her deadUest foes in literature. Not only were the Greek and Latin masterpieces the stronghold of a mythology that had to be erased from the popular mind ; not only was their morality antagonistic to the principles of Christian ethics : in addition to these grounds for hatred and mistrust, the classics ideahsed a form of human hfe which the new faith regarded as worthless. What was culture in comparison with the salvation of the soul ? Why should time be spent upon the dreams of poets, when every minute might be weU employed in pondering the precepts of the Gospels ? What was the use of making this life refined and agreeable by study, when it formed but an insignificant prelude to an eternity wherein mere mundane learning would be valueless ? Why raise questions about man's condition on this earth, when the creeds had to be defined and ex pounded, when the nature of God- and the relation of the human soul to its Creator had to be established ? It was easy to pass from this state of mind to the beUef that learn ing in itself was impious.1 ' Let us shun the lying fables of the poets,' cries Gregory of Tours, ' and forego the wisdom of sages at enmity with God, lest we incur the doom of endless death by sentence of our Lord.' Even Augustine deplored his time spent in reading Virgil, weeping over Dido's death by love, when all the whUe he was himself both moraUy and spirituaUy dead. Alcuin regretted that in his boyhood he had preferred VirgU to the legends of the Saints, and stigma tised the eloquence of the Latin writers by the epithet of wanton. Such phrases as poetarum figmenta, gentilmm fig menta sive deliramenta (the fictions or mad ravings of Pagan lingua Latmce literator, on a passage in the seventh ^Eneid. The man's ¦ explanation of the word bidentes proves an almost more than mediaeval puerility and ignorance. 1 Most of the following quotations will be found in Comparetti, Virgilio nel Medio Evo, vol.i., a work of sound scholarship and refined taste upon the place of Virgil in the Middle Ages. 44 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY poets} are commonly employed by Christian authors of the Lives of Saints, in order to mark the inferiority of Virgil and Ovid to their own more edifying compositions. Belying on their spiritual pretensions, the monkish scribes gloried in ignorance and paraded want of grammar as a sign of grace. ' I warn the curious reader,' writes a certain Wolf hard in the ' Life of S. Walpurgis,' ' not to mind the mass of barbarisms in this Uttle work ; I bid him ponder what he finds upon these pages, and seek the pearl within the dung-heap.' Gregory the Great goes further, and defies the pedantry of pedagogues. ' The place of prepositions and the cases of the nouns I utterly despise, since I deem it unfit to confine the words of the celestial oracle within the rules of Donatus.' ' Let philosophers and impure scholars of Donatus,' writes a fanatic of Cordova, ' ply their windy problems with the bark ing of dogs, the grunting of swine, snarUng with skinned throat and teeth ; let the foaming and bespittled grammarians belch, while we remain evangeUcal servants of Christ, true followers of rustic teachers.' Thus the opposition of the Church to Paganism, the conviction that Christianity was aUen to culture, and the absorption of mteUectual interest in theological questions contributed to destroy what had remained of sound scholarship in the last years of the Empire. The task of the Church, moreover, in the Middle Ages was not so much to keep learning ahve as to moraUse the savage races who held Europe at their pleasure. Pure Latinity, even if it could have been instUled into the nations of the North, was of less moment than elementary discipline in manners and religion. It must not be forgotten that the literature of ancient Eome was artificial in its best days, con fined to a select few, and dependent on the capital for its support. After the dismemberment of the Empire the whole of Europe was thrown open to the action of spiritual powers who had to use unlettered barbarians for their ministers and VIRGIL 45 missionaries. To submit this vast field to classic culture at the same time that Christianity was being propagated, would have been beyond the strength of the Church, even had she chosen to undertake this task, and had the vital forces of antiquity not been exhausted. At this point an inevitable reaction, Ulustrating the com promise thrust upon the Church by her peculiar position, made itself apparent. In proportion as the dangers of Paganism decreased, the clergy, on whom devolved the double duty of civiUsing as well as moraUsing society, began to feel the need of arresting the advance of ignorance. Knowledge of Latin was required for ecclesiastical uses, for the interpre tation of Scripture, for the study of the Fathers, and for the estabhshment of a common language among many divers nationahties. A middle course between the fanaticism which regarded classical Uterature as worthless and impure, and the worldhness that might have been encouraged by enthusiasm for the ancients, had therefore to be steered. Grammar was taught in the schools, and where grammar was taught, it was impossible to exclude VirgU and some other Latin authors. A conflict in the monkish mind was the unavoidable conse quence. Since the classics alone communicated sound learn ing, the study of them formed a necessary part of education ; and yet these authors were unbaptized Pagans, doomed to everlasting death because of their impiety and immorality. Poets who had hitherto been regarded as deadly foes, were now accepted as auxiliaries in the battle of the Church against barbarism. While copying the elegies of Ovid, the compas sionate scribe sought to place them in a favourable light, and to render them edifying at the cost of contradicting their plain meaning.1 Virgil was credited with aUegorical signifi- 1 Hoc est quod pueri tangar amore minus, for example, was altered into Hoc est quod pueri tangar amore nihil ; for lusisset amores was substituted dampnasset amoves, and so forth. 48 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY eance ; and the strong sympathy he roused in those who felt the beauty of his style, produced a belief that, if not quite, he was almost a Christian. The piety and pity for Virgil as a gentle soul who had just missed the salvation offered by Christ, found expression in the service for S. Paul's Day used at Mantua : l — Ad Maronis mausoleum Ductus, fudit super eum PisB rorem lacrymse ; Quem te, inquit, reddidissem Si te vivum invenissem, Poetarum maxime 1 Meanwhile the utter confusion consequent upon the downfaU of the Eoman Empire and the irruption of the Germanic races was causing, by the mere brute force of cir cumstance, a gradual extinction of scholarship too powerful to be arrested. The teaching of grammar for ecclesiastical purposes was insufficient to check the influence of many causes leading to this overthrow of learning. It was impos sible to communicate more than a mere tincture of knowledge to students separated from the classical tradition, for whom the antecedent history of Eome was a dead letter. The meaning of Latin words derived from the Greek was lost. Smaragdus, a grammarian, mistook Eunuchus Gomcedia and Orestes Tragcedia, mentioned by Donatus, for the names of authors. Eemigius of Auxerre explained poema by positio, and emblema by habundantia. Homer and VirgU were sup posed to have been friends and contemporaries, whUe the 1 The hymn quoted above in the text refers to a legend of S. Paul having visited the tomb of Virgil at Naples : — ¦ When to Maro's tomb they brought him Tender grief and pity wrought him To bedew the stone with tears ; What a saint I might have crowned thee, Had I only living found thee, Poet first and without peers I ' VIRGIL IN POPULAR ROMANCES 47 Latin epitome of the 'Iliad,' bearing the name of Pindar, was fathered on the Theban lyrist. Theological notions, grotesque and childish beyond description, found their way into etymo logy and grammar. The three persons of the Trinity were discovered in the verb, and mystic numbers in the parts of speech. Thus analytical studies Uke that of language came to be regarded as an open field lor the exercise of the mytho- logising fancy ; and etymology was reduced to a system of ingenious punning. Voluntas and voluptas were distinguished, for example, as pertaining to the nature of Deus and diabolus respectively ; and, in order to make the Ust complete, volumtas was invented as an attribute of homo. It is clear that on this path of verbal quibbling the intellect had lost tact, taste, and common sense together. When the minds of the learned were possessed by these absurdities to the exclusion of sound method, we cannot wonder that antiquity survived but as a strange and shadowy dream in popular imagination. Virgil, the only classic who retained distinct and living personaUty, passed from poet to philosopher, from philosopher to Sibyl, from Sibyl to magician, by successive stages of transmutation, as the truth about him grew more dim and the faculty to apprehend him weakened. Forming the staple of education in the schools of the gram marians, and metamorphosed by the vulgar consciousness into a wizard,1 he waited on the extreme verge of the dark ages to take Dante by the hand, and lead him, as the type of human reason, through the realms of Hell and Purgatory. With regard to the actual knowledge of Latin literature possessed in the Middle Ages, it may be said in brief that VirgU was continuaUy studied, and that a certain famUiarity with Ovid, Lucan, Horace, Juvenal, and Statius was never 1 The common use of the word grammarie for occult science in our ballads illustrates this phase of popular opinion. So does the legend of Friar Bacon. See Thorns, Early English Prose Romances. 48 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY lost. Among the prose-writers, portions of Cicero were used in education ; but the compilations of Boethius, Priscian, Donatus, and Cassiodorus were more widely used. In the twelfth century the study of Eoman law was revived, and the scholastic habit of thought found scope for subtlety in the discussion of cases and composition of glosses. The general knowledge and intellectual sympathy required for comprehen sion of the genuine classics were, however, wanting ; and thus it happened that their place was taken by epitomes and ab stracts, and by the formal digests of the Western Empire in its decadence. This lifeless Uterature was better suited to the meagre intellectual conditions of the Middle Ages than the masterpieces of the Augustan and SUver periods. Of Greek there was absolutely no tradition left.1 When the names of Greek poets or philosophers are cited by mediasval authors, it is at second hand from Latin sources ; and the Aristotelian logic of the schoolmen came through Latin trans lations made by Jews from Arabian MSS. OccasionaUy it might happen that a Western scholar acquired Greek at Constantinople or in the south of Italy, where it was spoken ; but this did not imply Hellenic culture, nor did such know ledge form a part and parcel of his erudition. Greek was hardly less lost to Europe then than Sanskrit in the first half of the eighteenth century. The meagreness of mediasval learning was, however, a less serious obstacle to culture than the habit of mind, partly engendered by Christianity and partly idiosyncratic to the new races, which prevented students from appreciating the true spirit of the classics. While mysticism and allegory ruled supreme, the clearly- defined humanity of the Greeks and Eomans could not fail to be misapprehended. The httle that was known of them reached students through a hazy and dis- 1 Didot, in his Life of Aldus, tries to make out that Greek learning survived in Ireland longer than elsewhere. MYSTICISM AND ALLEGORY 48 torting medium. Poems hke VirgU's fourth Eclogue were prized for what the author had not meant when he was writ ing them ; while his real interests were utterly neglected. Against this mental misconception, this original obliquity of vision, this radical Uein the inteUect, the restorers of learning had to fight at least as energetically as against brute ignorance and dulness. It was not enough to multiply books and to discover codices ; they had to teach men how to read them, to explain their inspiration, to defend them against prejudice, to protect them from false methods of interpretation. To purge the mind of fancy and fable, to prove that poetry apart from its supposed prophetic meaning was delightful for its own sake, and that the history of the antique nations, in spite of Paganism, could be used for profit and instruction, was the first step to be taken by these pioneers of modern culture J They had, in short, to create a new mental sensibility by estabUsbing the truth that pure literature directly contributes; to the dignity and happiness of human beings. . The achieve-; ment of this revolution in thought was the great- performance. of the Italians in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. During the dark ages Italy had in no sense enjoyed superiority of culture over the rest of Europe. On. the con trary, the first abortive attempt at a revival of learning was due to Charlemagne at Aix, the second to the Emperor Frederick in Apuha and Sicily; and while the Bomance nations had lost the classical tradition, it was stUl to some extent preserved by the Moslem dynasties. The more wa study the history of mediaeval learning, the more we recognise the debt of civUised humanity to the Arabs for their conserva-; tion and transmission of Greek thought in altered form to Europe. Yet, though the Italians came comparatively lata into the field, their action was decisive. Neither Charlemagne nor Frederick, neither the philosophy of the Arabian sages nor the precocious literature of Provence, succeeded in effecti n e 60 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY ing for the education of the modern inteUect that which Dante and Petrarch performed — the one by the production of a monumental work of art in poetry, the other by the com> munication of a new enthusiasm for antiquity to students. Dante does not belong in any strict sense to the history of the Eevival of Learning. The ' Divine Comedy ' closes the Middle Ages and preserves their spirit. It stands before the vestibule of modern literature like a soUtary mountain at the entrance of a country rich in aU varieties of landscape. In order to become acquainted with its grandeur, we must leave the fields and forests that we know, ascend the heights, and use ourselves to an austerer chmate. In spite of this isolation, Dante's influence was powerful upon succeeding generations. The modern mind first found in him its scope, and recognised its freedom ; first dared and did what placed it on a level with antiquity in art. Many ideas, moreover, destined to play an important part in the coming age, received from him their germinal expression. It may thus be truly said that Dante initiated the movement of the modern inteUect in its entirety, though he did not lead the Eevival considered as a separate moment in this evolution. That service was reserved for Petrarch. There are spots upon the central watershed of Europe where, in the stillness of a summer afternoon, the traveUer may listen to the murmurs of two streams — the one hurrying down to form the Ehine, the other to contribute to the Danube or the Po. Born within hearing of each other's voices, and nourished by the self-same clouds that rest upon the crags around them, they are henceforth destined to an ever- widening separation. While the one sweeps onward to the Northern seas, the other wiU reach the shores of Italy or Greece and mingle with the Mediterranean. To these two streamlets we might compare Dante and Petrarch, both of whom sprang from Florence, both of whom were nurtured in the learning of the DANTE AND PETRARCH il schools and in the lore of chivalrous love. Yet how different was their mission ! Petrarch marks the rising of that great river of inteUectual energy which flowed southward to recover the culture of the ancient world. The current of Dante's genius took the contrary direction. Borne upon its mighty flood, we visit the lands and cities of the Middle Ages, floating toward infinities divined and made the heritage of human nature by the mediasval spirit. In speaking of Petrarch here, it is necessary to concentrate attention upon his claims to be considered as the apostle of scholarship, the inaugurator of the humanistic impulse of the fifteenth century. We have nothing to do with his Italian poetry. The Rime dedicated to Madonna Laura have echpsed the fame of the Latin epic, phUosophical discourses, epistles, orations, invectives, and dissertations, which made Petrarch the Voltaire of his own age, and on which he thought his immortaUty would rest. Yet it is with these latter products of his genius, not with the Ganzoniere, that we are now con cerned; nor can it be too emphatically asserted that his originaUty was even more eminently displayed in the revelation of humanism to the modern world than in the verses that impressed their character upon ItaUan Uterature. To have foreseen a whole new phase of European culture, to have interpreted its spirit, and determined by his own activity the course it should pursue, is in truth a higher title to fame than the composition of even the most perfect sonnets. The artist, however, has this advantage over the pioneer of intellectual progress, that his deUcate creations are indestructible, and that his work cannot be merged in that of a continuator. Therefore Petrarch lives and wiU Uve in the memory of miUions as the poet of Laura, whUe only students know how much the world owes to his humanistic ardour. As I cannot dispense with the word Humanism in this portion of my work, it may be well to fix 'the sense I shall 112 52 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY attach to it.1 The essence of humanism consisted in a new and vital perception of the dignity of man as a rational being apart from theological determinations, and in the further perception that classic literature alone displayed human nature in the plenitude of intellectual and moral freedom. It was partly a reaction against ecclesiastical despotism, partly an attempt to find the point of unity for aU that had been thought and done by man, within the mind restored to con sciousness of its own sovereign faculty. Hence the single- hearted devotion to the literature of Greece and Eome that marks the whole Eenaissance era. Hence the watchword of that age, the Littera Humaniores. Hence the passion for antiquity, possessing thoughtful men, and substituting a new authority for the traditions of the Church. Hence the so-called Paganism of centuries bent upon absorbing and' assimilating a spirit no less life-giving from their point of view than Christianity itseU. Hence the persistent effort of phUosophers to find the meeting-point of two divergent inspirations. Hence, too, the ultimate antagonism between the humanists, or professors of the new wisdom, and those uncompromising Christians who, like S. Paul, preferred to remain fools for Christ's sake. Humanism in this, the widest, sense of the word was possessed by Petrarch intuitively. It belonged to his nature as much as music to Mozart ; so that he seemed sent into the world to raise, by the pure exercise of innate faculties, a standard for succeeding workers. Physically and asstheticaUy, by the fineness of his ear for verbal harmonies, and by the exquisiteness of his sensibUities, he was fitted to divine what 1 The word Humanism has a German sound, and is in fact modern. Yet the generic phrase umanitd for humanistic culture, and the name umanista for a professor of humane studies, are both pure Italian. Ariosto, in his seventh satire, line 25, writes — ' Senza quel vizio son pochi umanisti.' NATURAL GIFTS OF PETRARCH 63 it tooi centuries to verify. WhUe stiU a boy, long before he could grasp the meaning of classical Latin, he used to read the prose of Cicero aloud, deUghting in the sonorous cadence and balanced periods of the master's style.1 Nor were the moral quahties of industry and perseverance, needed to sup plement these natural gifts, defective. In his maturity he spared no pains to coUect the manuscripts of Cicero, some times transcribing them with his own hand, sometimes em ploying copyists, sending and journeying to distant parts of Europe where he heard a- fragment of his favourite author might be found.2 His greatest Uterary disappointment was the loss of a treatise by Cicero on Glory, a theme exceedingly significant for the Eenaissance, which he lent to his tutor Convennevole, and which the old man pawned.3 Though he could not read Greek, he welcomed with profoundest reverence the codices of Homer and Plato sent to him from Constanti nople, and exhorted Boccaccio to dedicate his genius to the translation of the sovran poet into Latin.4 In this suscepti- 1 See the interesting letter to Luca di Penna, De Libris Oicerdnis, p. 946, and compare De Ignorantid sui ipsius, &c. p. 1044. These re ferences, as well as those which follow under the general sign Ibid., are made to the edition of Petrarch's collected works, Basle, 1581. • Ibid. p. 948. Cf. the fine letter on the duty of collecting and pre serving codices (Eam. Epist. lib. iii. 18, p. 619). 'Aurum, argentum, gemmffi, purpurea vestis, marmorea domus, cultus ager, pictae tabulae, phaleratus sonipes, caeteraque id genus mutam habent et superficiariam voluptatem : libri medullitus delectant, colloquuntur, consulunt, et viva quadam nobis atque arguta familiaritate junguntur.' 3 De Libris Ciceronis, p. 949. Cf. his Epistle to Varro for an account of a lost MS. of that author. Ibid. p. 708. * Ibid. p. 948. Of. De Ignorantid, pp. 1053, 1054. See, too, the letter to Nicolaus Syocerus of Constantinople, Epist. Voir. xx. p. 998, thanking him for the Homer and the Plato, in which Petrarch gives an account of his slender Greek studies. ' Homerus tuus apud me mutus, immo vero ego apud ilium surdus sum. Gaudeo tamen vel aspectu solo, et sfflpe ilium amplexus et suspirans dico. . . . Plato philosophorum princeps .... nunc tandem tuo munere Philosophorum prineipi Poetarum princeps asserit. Quis tantis non gaudeat et glorietur hospi- 54 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY bility to the melodies of rhetorical prose, in this special cult of Cicero, in the passion for collecting manuscripts, and in the intuition that the future of scholarship depended upon the resuscitation of Greek studies, Petrarch initiated the four most important momenta of the classical Eenaissance. He, again, was the first to understand the value of pubhc libra ries ; ' the first to accumulate coins and inscriptions, as the sources of accurate historical information ; the first to preach the duty of preserving ancient monuments. It would seem as though, by the instinct of genius, he foresaw the future for at least three centuries, and comprehended the highest uses whereof scholarship is capable. So far the outside only of Petrarch's instinct for humanism has been touched. How fuUy he possessed its large and Uberal spirit is shown by the untiring war he carried on against formalism, tradition, pedantry, and superstition. Whatever might impede the free play of the inteUect aroused his bitterest hatred. Against the narrow views of scholastic theologians, against the futile preoccupations of the Middle- Age materialists, against the lawyers and physicians and astrologers in vogue, he declared inexorable hostihty.8 These tibus? .... Grascos spectare, et si nihil aliud, certe juvat.' The letter urging Boccaccio to translate Homer—' an tuo studio, mea impensa fieri possit, ut Homerus integer bibliothecse huic, ubi pridem Graecus habitat, tandem Latinus accedat ' — will be found Ep. Rer. Sen. lib. iii. 5, p. 775. In another letter, Ep. Rer. Sen. lib. vi. 2, p. 807, he thanks Boccaccio for the Latin version. * De RemedMs utriusque Fortunai, p. 43. A plea for public a3 against private collections of useful books. ' Multos in vinculis tenes,' &c. 2 See the four books of Invectives, Contra Medicum quemdam, and the' treatise De sui ipsius et aliorum Ignorantid. Page 1038 of the last dissertation contains a curious list of frivolous questions discussed by the Averrhoists. Cf. the letter on the decadence of true learning, Ep. Var. 31, p. 1020 ; the letter to a friend exhorting him to combat Averrhoism, Epist. sine titulo, 18, p. 731 ; two letters on physicians Epist. Rerum Senilium, lib. xii. 1 and 2, pp. 897-914 ; a letter to Fran. HIS LIBERAL SPIRIT SS men, by their puerilities and falsities, obstructed the natural action of the mind ; therefore Petrarch attacked them. At the same time he recognised the hberators of the reason by a kind of tact. Though he could not interpret the sixteen dia logues of Plato he possessed in Greek, he perceived intuitively that Plato, as opposed to Aristotle, would become the saint of Uberal philosophy, surveyed by him as in a Pisgah-view. His enthusiasm for Cicero and Virgil was twofold ; in both respects he proved how capable he was of moulding the taste and directing the mental force of his successors. As an artist, he discerned in their style the harmonies of sound and the proprieties of diction, whereby Latin might once again become the language of fine thoughts and delicate emotions. As a champion of intellectual independence, he saw that, studying their large discourse of all things which the reason and imagination can appropriate, the thinkers of the modern age might shake off scholastic fetters, and enter into the inheritance of spiritual freedom. Poetry and rhetoric he regarded not merely as the fine arts of Uterature, but as two chief instruments whereby the man of genius arrives at self- expression, perpetuates the quahties of his own soul, and impresses his character upon the age. Since this realisation of the individual in a high and puissant work of art appeared to him the noblest aim of man on earth, it foUowed that the inspired speech of the poet and the eloquence of the orator became for Petrarch the summit of ambition, the two-peaked Parnassus he struggled through his lifetime to ascend.1 cesco Bruno on the lies of the astrologers, Epist. Rer. Sen. lib. i. 6, p. 747; a letter to Boccaccio on the same theme, Epist. Rer. Sen. lib. iii. 1, p. 765 ; another on physicians to Boccaccio, Epist. Rer. Sen. lib. v. 4, p. 796. Cf. the Critique of Alchemy, De Remediis utriusque Fortunm, p. 93. 1 In comparing the orator and the poet, Petrarch gives the palm to the former. He thought the perfect rhetorician, capable of expressing sound philosophy with clearness, was rarer than the poet. See De BemedUs utriusque Fortune, lib. ii. dial. 102, p. 192. 56 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY The ideal was literary ; but Uterature implied for Petrarch more than words and phrases. It was not enough to make melodious verse, or to move an audience with weU-sounding periods. The hexameters of the epic and the paragraphs of the oration had to contain soUd thought, to be the genuine outcome of the poet's or the rhetorician's soul. The writer was bound to be a preacher, to discover truth, and make the truths he found agreeable to the world.1 His Ufe, moreover, ought to be in perfect harmony with all he sought to teach.2 Upon the purity of his enthusiasm, the sincerity of his inspi ration, depended the future well-being of the world for which he laboured.3 Thus for this one man at least the art of letters was a priesthood ; and the earnestness of his vocation made him fit to be the master of succeeding ages. It is not easy for us to appreciate the boldness and sincerity of these conceptions. Many of them, since the days of Petrarch, have been overstrained and made ridiculous by false pretensions. Besides, the whole point of view has been appropriated ; and men invariably undervalue what they feel they cannot lose. It is only by comparing Petrarch's own philosophy of Utera ture with the dulness of the schoolmen in their decadence, and with the styhstic shaUowness of subsequent scholars, that we come to comprehend how luminous and novel was the thesis he supported. Having thus conceived of Uterature, Petrarch obtained a standard for estimating the barren culture of his century. He taxed the disputations of the doctors with lifeless repeti- • See, among other passages, Inn. contra Medicum, lib. i. p. 1092. 'Poets studium est veritatem veram pulohris velaminibus adornare.' Cf. p. 905, the paragraph beginning ' Officium est ejus fingere,' &c. 2 See the preface to the Epistolce Familiares, p. 570. ' Scribendi enim mihi vivendique unus (ut auguror) finis erit.' s For his lofty conception of poetry see the two letters to Boccaccio andBenvenuto da Imola, pp. 740, 941. Epist. Rerum Senilium, lib. i. 4, lib. xiv. 11. BARREN CULTURE OF THE CENTURY 57 tion and unmeaning verbiage. Schoolman after schoolman had been occupied with formal trifles. The erudition of the jurist and the theologian revealed nothing fruitful for the heart or intellect ; and everything was valueless that did not come straight from a man's soul, speaking to the soul of one who heard him. At the same time he read the Fathers and the Scriptures in a new light. Augustine, some few of whose sentences had been used as links in the catena of dogmatic orthodoxy, seemed to Petrarch no longer a mere master of theology, but a man conversing with him across the chasm of eight centuries. In the ' Confessions,' ' running over with a fount of tears,' the poet of Vaucluse divined a kindred nature; one who used exalted eloquence for the expression of vital thoughts and passionate emotions ; one, moreover, who had reached the height of human happiness in union with God.1 Not less real was the grasp he laid upon the prophets and apostles of the Bible. AU words that bore a message to his heart were words of authority and power. The ipse dixit of an Aristotle or a Seraphic doctor had for him no weight, unless it came home to him as a man.2 Even Cicero and Seneca, the saints of phUosophical antiquity, he dared to criticise for practising less wisdom than they preached.3 While regarding Petrarch as the first and, in some respects, the greatest of the humanists, we are bound to recognise the faults as well as the good quaUties he shared with them. To 1 The references to Augustine as a ' divine genius,' equal to Cicero in eloquence, superior to the classics in his knowledge of Christ, are too frequent for citation. See, however, Fam. Epist. lib. ii. 9, p. 601 ; the letter to Boccaccio, Variorum, 22, p. 1001 ; and Fam,. Epist. lib. iv. 9, p. 635. The phrase describing the Confessions, quoted in my text, is from Petrarch's letter to his brother Gerard, Epist. Var. 27, p. 1012, ' Scatentes lachrymis Confessionum libros.' 2 ' Sum sectarum negligens, veri appetens.' Epist. Rer. Sen. lib. i. 6, p. 745. ' Nam apud Horatium Flaccum, nullius jurare in verba magistri, puer valde didiceram.' Epist. Fam. lib. iv. 10, p. 637. * See the letters addressed to Cicero and Seneca, pp. 705, 706. 68 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY dwell on these in detail would be a thankless task, were it not for the conviction that his personahty impressed itself too strongly on the fourteenth century to escape our criticism. We cannot afford to leave even the foibles of the man who gave a pattern to his generation unstudied. Foremost among these may be reckoned his vanity, his eagerness to grasp the poet's crown, his appetite for flattery, his restless change from place to place in search of new admirers, his self-complacent garrulity. This vanity was perhaps insepa rable from the position he assumed upon the threshold of the modern world. It was hardly possible that the prophet of a new phase of culture should not look down with contempt upon the uneducated masses, and believe that learning raised a man into a demigod. Study of the classics taught him to despise his age and yearn for immortality ; but the assurance of the honours that he sought, could only come to him upon the Ups of his contemporaries. In conflict with the dulness and the darkness of preceding centuries, he felt the need of a new motive, unrecognised by the Church and banished from the cloister. That motive was the thirst for fame, the craving to make his personahty eternal in the minds of men. Mean while he was alone in a dim wilderness of transitory interests and sordid aims, where human hfe was shadowy, and where, when death arrived, there would remain no memory of what had been. The gloom of this present in contrast with the glory of the past he studied, and the glory of the future he desired, confirmed his egotism. His name and fame depended on his self-assertion. To achieve renown by writing, to wrest for himself even in his hfetime a firm place among the immortals, became his feverish spur to action. He was con scious how deep a hold the passion for celebrity had taken on his nature ; and not unfrequently he speaks of it as a disease.1 i ' iEgritudo ' is a phrase that constantly recurs in his epistles to THEORY AND PRACTICE 69 The Christian within him wrestled vigorously with the re nascent Pagan. Eeligion taught him to renounce what am bition prompted him to grasp. Yet he continued to deceive himself. WhUe penning dissertations on the worthlessness of praise and the futility of fame, he trimmed his sails to catch the breeze of popular applause ; and as his reputation widened, his desires grew ever stronger. The last years of his hfe were spent in writing epistles to the great men of the past, in whom alone he recognised his equals, and to posterity, in whom he hoped to meet at last with judges worthy of him. This almost morbid vanity, peculiar to Petrarch's tem perament and encouraged by the circumstances of his life, introduced a division between his practice and his profession. He was never tired of praising solitude, and many years of his manhood he spent in actual retirement at Vaucluse.1 Yet he only loved seclusion as a contrast to the society of Courts, and would have been most miserable if the world, taking him at his own estimate, had left him in peace. No one wrote more eloquently about equal friendship, or professed a stronger zeal for candid criticism. Yet he admitted few but professed admirers to his intimacy, and regarded his literary antagonists as personal detractors. The same sensitive ego tism led him to depreciate the fame of Dante, in whom he cannot but have recognised a poet in the highest sense superior to himself ? Again, whUe he complained of celebrity as an obstacle to studious employment, he showed the most acute interest when the detaUs of his hfe were called in ques- indicate a restless, craving habit of the soul. See, too, the whole second book of the De Contemptu Mundi. 1 See the treatise De Vitd SoUtarid, pp. 223-292, and the letters on 1 Vaucluse,* pp. 691-697. 1 See the discussion of this point in Baldelli's Vita del Boccaccio, pp. 130-135. 60 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY tion.1 Nothing, if we took his phUosophio treatises for record, would have pleased him better than to Uve unnoticed. His letters make it manifest that he believed the eyes of the whole world were fixed upon him, and that he courted this attention of the pubhc with a greedy appetite. These quahties and contradictions mark Petrarch as a man of letters, not of action. He belonged essentiaUy to the genus irritabile vatum, for whom the sphere of thoughts expressed on paper is more vivid than the world of facts. We may trace a corresponding weakness in his chief enthu siasms. Unable to distinguish between the realities of exis tence and the dreamland of his study, he hailed in Eienzi the restorer of old Eome, whUe he stigmatised his friends the Colonnesi as barbarian intruders.2 The Eome he read of in the pages of Livy, seemed to the imagination of this visionary stUl alive and powerful; nor did he feel the absurdity of addressing the mediaeval rabble of the Eomans in phrases high-flown for a Gracchus.3 WhUe he courted the intimacy of the Correggi, and hved as a house-guest with the Visconti, he denounced these princes as tyrants, and appealed to the Emperor to take the reins and bring all Italy beneath his yoke.4 Herein, it may be urged, Petrarch did but share a delusion common to his age. This is true ; but the point to notice is the contradiction between his theories and the habits of his life. He was not a partisan on the Ghibelline side, but a beUever in impossible ideals. His patriotism was ho less 1 Compare the chapter in the dissertation De Remedies on trouble some notoriety, p. 177, with the letter on his reception at Arezzo, p. 918, the letter to Nerius Morandus on the false news of his death, p. 776, and the letter to Boccaccio on his detractors, p. 749. 3 See the Epistles to Rienzi, pp. 677, 535. ' Epistle to the Eoman people, beginning 'Apud te invictissima domitorque terrarum popule meus,' p. 712. 1 Epistle to Charles IV., De Pacificandd Italid, p. 531. This con tradiction struck even his most ardent admirers with painful surprise, See Boccaccio qucted in Baldelli's Life, p. 116. A MODEL OF SCHOLAESHIP 61 Uterary than his temperament. The same tendency to mea sure all things by a student's standard made him exaggerate mere verbal eloquence. Words, according to his view, were power. Cicero held the highest place in his esteem, because his declamation was most copious. Aristotle, in spite of his profound phUosophy, was censured for his lack of rhetoric.1 Throughout the studied works of Petrarch we can trace this vice of a stylistic ideal. Though he never writes without ome sohd germ of thought, he loves to play with phrases, producing an effect of unreality, and seeming emulous of casuistical adroitness.2 The foregoing analysis was necessary because Petrarch became, as it were, a model for his foUowers in the field of scholarship. Italian humanism never lost the powerful impress of his genius, and the value of his influence can only be appreciated when the time arrives for summing up the total achievement of the Eevival.3 It remains to be regretted that the weaknesses of his character, his personal pretension and Uterary idealism, were more easUy imitated than his strength. Petrarch's egotism differed widely from the insolent conceit of Filelfo and the pedantic boasts of Alciato. Nor did bis enthusiasm for antiquity degenerate, like theirs, into a mere uncritical and servile worship. His humanism was both loftier and larger. He never forgot that Christianity was an advance upon Paganism, and that the accomplished man of letters must acquire the culture of the ancients with out losing the virtues or sacrificing the hopes of a Christian. If only the humanists of the Eenaissance could have preserved this point of view intact, they would have avoided the worst 1 Rerum memorandarum, lib. ii. p. 415. 2 This is particularly noticeable in the miscellaneous collection of Bssays called De Remediis utriusque Fortunes, where opposite views on a wide variety of topics are expressed with great dexterity. ' See the last chapter of this volume. 62 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY evils of the age, and have secured a nobler Uberation of the modern reason. Petrarch created for himself a creed com pounded of Eoman Stoicism and Christian doctrine, adapting the precepts of the Gospels and the teaching of the Fathers, together with the ethics of Cicero and Seneca, to his own needs. Herein he showed the freedom of his genius, and led the way for the most brilhant thinkers of the coming centuries. The fault of his successors was a tendency to recede from this high vantage-ground, to accept the customary creed with cynical facihty, whUe they inclined in secret to a laxity adopted from their study of the classics. By separating him self from tradition, without displaying an arrogant spirit of revolt against authority, Petrarch estabhshed the principle that men must guide their own souls by the double Ughts of culture and of conscience. His foUowers were too ready to make culture aU in aU, and lost thereby the opportunity of grounding a rational philosophy of Ufe upon a sohd basis for the modern world. Petrarch made it his sincere aim to be both moraUy and inteUectuaUy his highest self ; and if he often failed in practice — if he succumbed to carnal fraUty while he praised sobriety — U he sought for notoriety while professing indifference to fame — if he mistook dreams for reahties and words for facts — stiU the ideal he proposed to himself and eloquently preached to his contemporaries, was a new and lofty one. After the lapse of five centuries, few as yet have passed beyond it. Even Goethe, for example, can claim no superiority of humanism above Petrarch, except by right of his participation in the scientific spirit. We are therefore justified in hailing Petrarch as the Columbus of a new spiritual hemisphere, the discoverer of modern culture. That he knew no Greek, that his Latin verse was Ufeless and his prose style far from pure, that his contributions to history and ethics have been superseded, and that his epistles are now only read by antiquaries, cannot PETRARCH'S INFLUENCE 89 impair his claim to this title. From him the inspiration needed to quicken curiosity and stimulate a zeal for knowledge proceeded. But for his intervention in the fourteenth century, it is possible that the Eevival of Learning, and aU that it impUes, might have been delayed until too late. Petrarch died in 1874. The Greek Empire was destroyed in 1453. Between those dates Italy recovered the Greek classics ; but whether the ItaUans would have undertaken this labour if no Petrarch had preached the attractiveness of liberal studies, or if no school of disciples had been formed by him in Florence, remains more than doubtful. We are brought thus to recog nise in him one of those heroes concerning whose relation to the spirit of the ages Hegel has discoursed in his ' PhUosophy of History.' Petrarch, by anticipating the tendencies of the Eevival, created the mteUectual miUeu required for its evolu tion.1 Yet we are not therefore justified in saying that he was not himself the product of already existing spiritual forces in his century. The vast influence he immediately exercised, whUe Dante, though gifted with a far more power ful individuahty, remained comparatively inoperative, proves that the age was speciaUy prepared to receive his inspiration. What remains to be said about the first period of Italian humanism is almost whoUy concerned with men who either immediately or indirectly felt the influence of Petrarch's genius.2 His shadow stretches over the whole age. Incited by his brilliant renown, Boccaccio, whUe stUl a young man, began to read the classical authors, bemoaning the years he had wasted in commerce and the study of the law to please his father. From what the poet of the ' Decameron ' has himself told us about the origin of his Uterary enthusiasm, it 1 The lines from the Africa used as a motto for this volume are a prophecy of the Eenaissance. 2 It is very significant of Petrarch's influence that his contemporaries ranked him higher, even as a sonnet-writer, than Dante. See Coluccio de' Salutati's Letters, part ii. j?. 57. 64 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY appears that Petrarch's example was decisive in deterrnining his course. There is, however, another tale, reported by his fellow-citizen ViUani, so characteristic of the age that to omit it in this place would be to sacrifice one of the most attractive legends in the history of literature.1 • After wandering through many lands, now here, now there, for a long space of time, when he had reached at last his twenty-eighth year, Boccaccio, at his father's bidding, took up his abode at Naples in the Pergola. There it chanced one day that he walked forth alone for pleasure, and came to the place where Virgil's dust lies buried. At the sight of this sepulchre, he fell into long musing admiration of the man whose bones it covered, brood ing with meditative soul upon the poet's fame, until his thoughts found vent in lamentations over his own envious fortunes, whereby he was compelled against his will to give himself to things of commerce that he loathed. A sudden love of the Pierian Muses smote his heart, and turning home ward, he abandoned trade, devoting himself with fervent. study to poetry ; wherein very shortly, aided alike by his noble genius and his burning desire, he made marveUous progress. This when his father noted, and perceived the heavenly inspiration was more powerful within his son than the paternal will, he at last consented to his studies, and helped him as best he could, although at first he tried to make him turn his talents to the canon law.' The hero-worship of Boccaccio, not only for the august Virgil, but also for Dante, the master of his youth and the idol of his mature age, is the most amiable trait in a character which, by its geniahty and sweetness, cannot faU to win affection.2 When circumstances brought him into personal 1 Filippo Villani, Vite d' Uomimi Illustri Fiorentmi, Firenze, 1826, p. 9. 2 With his own hand Boccaccio transcribed the Divine Comedy, and sent the MS. to Petrarch, who in his reply wrote thus :— ' Inseris nominatim hanc hujus officii tui escusationem, quod tibi adolescentulo BOCCACCIO AT VIEGIL'S TOMB 64 relations with Petrarch, he transferred the whole homage of his ardent soul to the only man aUve who seemed to him a fit inheritor of ancient fame.1 Petrarch became the director of his conscience, the master of his studies, the moulder of his thoughts upon the weightiest matters of literary philosophy. The friendship- established between the poet of Vaucluse and the lover of Fiammetta lasted through more than twenty years, and was only broken by the death of the former. Throughout this long space of time Boccaccio retained the attitude of a humble scholar, while in his published works, the ' Genealogia Deorum ' and the ' Comento sopra i Primi Sedici Capitoli deU' "Inferno" di Dante,' he uniformly spoke of Petrarch as his father and his teacher, the wonder of the century, a heavenly poet better fitted to be numbered with the giants of the past than with the pygmies of a barren age. The fame enjoyed by Petrarch, the honours showered upon him by kings and princes, his own vanity, and even the dis crepancies between his habits and his theories, produced no bitterness in Boccaccio's more modest nature. It was enough for the pupU to use his talents for the propagation of his master's views ; and thus the influence of Petrarch was com municated to Florence, where Boccaccio continued to reside.8 primus studiorum dux, prima fax fuerit.' Baldelli, p. 133. The en thusiasm of Boccaccio for Dante contrasts favourably with Petrarch's grudging egotism. 1 Boccaccio was present at Naples when Petrarch disputed before King Bobert for his title to the poet's crown (Gen. Deor. xiv. 22) ; but he first became intimate with him as a friend during Petrarch's visit to Florence in 1350. 2 Salutato, writing to Francesco da Brossano, describes his conversa tions with Boccaccio thus : — ' Nihil aliud quam de Francisco (i.e. Petrarcha) conferebamus. In cujus laudationem adeo libenter sermones usurpabat, ut nihil avidius nihilque copiosius enarraret. Et eo magis quia tali orationis generi me prospiciebat intentum. Sufficiebat enim nobis Petrarcha solus, et omni posteritati sufficiet in moralitate sermonis, in eloquentis soliditate atque dulcedine, in lepore prosarum et in oon- cinnitate metrorum.' Epist. Fam. p. 45. II F 66 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY In obedience to Petrarch's advice, Boccaccio in middle hfe applied himself to learning Greek. Petrarch had never acquired a real knowledge of the language, though he received a few lessons at Avignon from Barlaam, a Calabrian, who had settled in Byzantium, and who sought to advance his fortunes in Italy and Greece by alternate acts of apostasy, and afterwards at Venice from Leontius Pilatas.1 The oppor tunities of Greek study enjoyed by Boccaccio were also very meagre, and his mastery of the idiom was superficial. Yet he advanced considerably beyond the point reached by any of his predecessors, so that he deserves to be named as the first Grecian of the modern world. Leontius Pilatus, a Southern Italian and a pupil of Barlaam, who, like his teacher, had removed to Byzantium and renounced the Latin faith, arrived at Venice on his way to Avignon in 1360. Boccaccio induced him to visit Florence, received him into his own house, and caused him to be appointed Greek Professor in the University. Then he set himself to work in earnest on the text of Homer. The ignorance of the teacher was, however, scarcely less than that of his pupil. While Leontius possessed a fair know ledge of Byzantine Greek, his command of Latin was very limited, and his natural stupidity was only equalled by his impudent pretensions. Of classical usages he seems to have known nothing. The imbecility of his master could scarcely have escaped the notice of Boccaccio. Indeed, both he and Petrarch have described Leontius as a sordid cynic with a filthy beard and tangled hair, morose in his temper and dis gusting in his personal habits, who concealed a bovine ignor ance beneath a Uon's hide of ostentation. It was, however, necessary to make the best of him ; for Greek in Northern Italy could nowhere else be gained, and Boccaccio had not thought, it seems, of journeying to Byzantium in search of 1 Epist. Rer. Sen., lib. xi 9, p. 887 ; lib. vi. 1, p. 806 ; lib. v. 4, p. 801. GREEK STUDIES 87 what he wanted.1 Boccaccio, accordingly, drank the muddy stream of pseudo-learning and Ues that flowed from this man's Ups, with insatiable avidity. The nonsense administered to him by way of satisfying his thirst for knowledge may best be understood from the following etymologies. 'A^iXXevs was derived from d and x'^°s> ' without fodder.' 2 The names of the Muses gave rise to these extraordinary explanations : 3 — Melpomene is derived from Melempio comene, which signifies facente stare la meditazione ; ThaUa is the same as Tithonlia or pognente cosa che germini ; Polyhymnia, through Polium neemen, is the same as cosa che faccia molta memoria ; Erato becomes Euruncomenon or trovatore del simile, and Terpsi chore is described as dilettante ammaestramento. Such was the bathos reached by erudition in Byzantium. Yet Boccaccio made what use he could of his contemptible materials. At the dictation of Leontius he wrote out the ' Diad ' and ' Odyssey ' in Latin , and this was the first transla tion made of Homer for modern readers. The manuscript, despatched to Petrarch, was, as we have seen already, greeted with enthusiasm.4 This moment in the history of scholar ship is so memorable that I may be excused for borrowing 1 Petrarch's letter to Ugone di San Severino, Epist. Rer. Sen. lib. xi. 9, p. 887, deserves to be read, since it proves that Italian scholars despaired at this time of gaining Greek learning from Constantinople. They were rather inclined to seek it in Calabria. ' Grasciam, ut olim ditissimam, sic nunc omnis longe inopem disciplina? . . . quod desperat apud Graecos, non diffidit apud Calabros inveniri posse.' 2 De Gen. Dear. xv. 6, 7. 2 Comento sopra Dante, Opp. Volg. vol. x. p. 127. After allowing for the difficulty of writing Greek, pronounced by an Italian, in Italian letters, and also for the errors of the copyist and printer, it is clear that a Greek scholar who thought Melpomene was one ' who gives fixity to meditation,' Thalia one ' who plants the capacity of growth,' Poly hymnia she ' who strengthens and expands memory,' Erato ' the dis coverer of similarity,' and Terpsichore ' delightful instruction,' was on a comically wrong track. * See above, p. 53, note 4. »2 68 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY BaldelU's extract from an ancient copy of Boccaccio's auto graph.1 Lycaon addresses his last prayer to Achilles : — Genu deprecor te Achilles : tu autem venerare et me miserere. Vada Servus. Jove genite venerabilis. Penes enim te primo gustavi Cereris farinam, Die illo, quando me cepisti in bene facto viridario j Et me transtulisti procul ferens patreque amicisque Lemnon ad gloriosam. Hecatombium autem honorem inveni, Nunc autem laesus ter tot ferens. Dies autem mihi est Haec duodecima, quando ad Ilion veni Multa passus. Nunc iterum me in tuis manibus posuit Fatum destructibile. Debeo odio esse Jovi patri, Qui me tibi iterum dedit, medio cuique, me mater Genuit Lathoi, filia Altai senis. Only by keeping firmly in mind that such men as Petrarch and Boccaccio, the two chief masters of Italian Uterature, prized this wretched stuff as an inestimable treasm-e, can we justly conceive how utterly Greek had been lost, and what an effort it required to restore it to the modern world. Indefatigable industry was Boccaccio's great merit as a student. He transcribed the whole of Terence with his own hands, and showed a real sense of the advantage to be gained by a critical comparison of texts. In his mythological, geo graphical, and historical coUections he bequeathed to posterity a curious mass of miscellaneous knowledge, forming, as it Were, the first dictionaries of biography and antiquity for modern scholars.2 Far from sharing the originality of Petrarch's humanistic ideal, he remained at best a laborious chronicler of facts and anecdotes. The author of the ' Decameron,' so richly gifted with humour, pathos, and poetic fancy, when he wrapped his student's robe around him, became a painstaking pioneer of antiquarian research. 1 Vita del Boccaccio, p. 264. The autograph was probably burned with other books of Boccaccio, and some of the unintelligible passages in the above quotation may be due to the ignorance of the copyist. 2 De Genealogid Deorum; De Casibus Virorum ac Feminarum lllmtrium; De Claris Muliebribus; De Montibus. Silvis, Fontibus.&e. PHILOSOPHY OF POETEY «9 One very important part of Petrarch's programme was eloquently supported by Boccaccio. The fourteenth and fifteenth books of the ' Genealogia Deorum ' form what may be termed the first defence of poesy, composed in honour of his own art by a poet of the modern world. In them Boccaccio expounds a theory already sketched in outhne by Petrarch. We have seen that the worst obstacle to humanistic culture lay, not so much in ignorance, as in misconceptions based upon prejudice and scruple. The notion of fine literature as an elevating and purifying influence had been lost. To restore it was the object of these earhest humanists. By poetry, con tends Boccaccio, we must understand whatever of weighty in argument, deep in doctrine, and vivid in imagination the man of genius may produce with conscious art in prose and verse. Poetry is instruction conveyed through allegory and fiction. Theology itseU, he reasons, is a form of poetry ; even the Holy Ghost may be called a Poet, inasmuch as He used the vehicle of symbol in the visions of the prophets and the Eevelation of S. John.1 To such strained arguments was the apostle of culture driven in order to persuade his hearers, and to drag Uterature from the Avernus of mediasval neglect. We must not, however, imagine that Boccaccio was himself superior to a point of view so puerile. Allegory appeared to him a necessary condition of art : only a madman could deny the hidden meaning of the ' Georgics ' and the ' ^Eneid ; ' 2 while the verses of Dante and of Petrarch owed their value to the Christian mysteries they shrouded. The poet, according to this mediasval phUosophy of literature, was a sage and teacher 1 ' La teologia e la poesia quasi una cosa si possono dire ... la teologia niuna altra cosa e che una poesia d' Iddio.' Vita di Dante, p. 59. Cf. Comento sopra Dante, loc. cit. p. 45. The explanation of the Muses referred to above is governed by the same determination to find philosophy in poetry. 2 See Petrarch's letter ' De quibusdam fictionibus Virgilii.' Ep, Rer. Sen. lib. iv. 4, p. 785. ?6 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY wrapping up his august meanings in delightful fictions.1 Though the common herd despised him as a liar and a false hood-fabricator, he was, in truth, a prophet uttering his dark speech in parables. How foolish, therefore, reasons the apologist, are the enemies of poetry — sophistical dialecticians and avaricious jurists, who have never trodden the Phoebean hill, and who scorn the springs of Helicon because they do not flow with gold ! Far worse is the condition of those monks and hypocrites who accuse the divine art of immorality and grossness, instead of reading between the lines and seek ing the sense conveyed to the understanding under veils of aUegory. Truly, proceeds Boccaccio, we do weU to shun the errors of Pagans ; nor can it be denied that poets of antiquity have written verse abhorrent to the Christian spirit. But, Jesus Christ be praised, the faith has triumphed. Strong in the doctrines of the Gospel and the Church, the student may safely approach the masterpieces of classic literature without fearing the seductions of the Siren. This argument, forming the gist of the ' Apology for Poetry ' in the ' Genealogia Deorum,' is repeated in the ' Comment upon Dante.' It is doubly interesting, both as showing the popular opinion of poetry and the prejudices Boccaccio thought it needful to attack, and also as containing a full exposition of the aUegorising theories with which humanism started. For some time after Boccaccio's death the paragraphs condensed above supplied the champions of culture with weapons to be used against their ecclesiastical and scholastic antagonists; nor was it untU humanism had triumphed, that the aUegorical interpretation of the ancients was finaUy abandoned. Independently of his contributions to learning, Boccaccio occupies a prominent place in the history of the Eevival through the new spirit he introduced into the vulgar Uterature. He 1 See the privilege granted to Petrarch by the Eoman senator in 1343, Petr. Opp. tom. iii. p. 6. BOCCACCIO'S SENSUOUS IDEAL 71 was the first who frankly sought to justify the pleasures of the carnal life, whose temperament, unburdened by asceticism, found a congenial element in amorous legends of antiquity. The romances of Boccaccio, with their beautiful gardens and sunny skies, fair women and luxurious lovers, formed a transition from the chivalry of the early Italian poets to the sensuality of Beccadelli and Ponfcano. He prepared the nation for hterary and artistic Paganism by unconsciously divesting thought and feeling of their spiritual elevation. Dante had made the whole world one in Christ. Petrarch put humanity to school in the lecture-room of Eoman sages and in the councUs of the Church. A terrestrial paradise of sensual delight, where aU things were desirable and delicate, contented the poet of the ' Fiammetta ' and ' FUostrato.' To the beatific vision of the ' Divine Comedy,' to the ' Trionfo della Morte,' succeeded the 'Visione Amorosa ' — a review of human life, in which Boccaccio begins by invoking Dame Venus and ends with earthly love, II Sior di tutta pace. The name given to Boccaccio by contemporaries, Giovanni della Tranquillita, sufficiently indicates his peaceful temperament. He was, in fact, the scholar, working in his study, and contributing to the erudition of his age by writings. Another of Petrarch's disciples, Giovanni Malpaghino, called from his birthplace Giovanni da Eavenna, exercised a more active personal influence over the destinies of scholarship. WhUe stUl a youth he had been employed by Petrarch as secretary and amanuensis. His general ability, clear hand writing, and enthusiasm for learning first recommended him to the poet, who made use of him for copying manuscripts and arranging his familiar letters. In the course of this work John of Eavenna became himself a learned man; acquiring a finer sense of Latinity than was possessed by any other scholar of his time. Something, too, of the sacred fire he caught from Petrarch, so that in his manhood the very 72. RENAISSANCE IN ITALY faults of his nature became instrumental in diffusing through out Italy the passion for antiquity. He could not long content himself with being even Petrarch's scribe. Irre sistible restlessness impelled him to seek adventures in the outer world, to mix with men and gain the glory he was always reading of. Petrarch, incapable of comprehending that any honour was greater than that of being his sateUite, treated this ambitious pupil like a wilful child. A quarrel ensued. Giovanni left his benefactor's house and went forth to try his fortunes. Without repeating the vicissitudes of his career in detail, it is enough to mention that want and misery soon drove him back to Petrarch ; that once more the vagrant impulse came upon him, and that for a season he filled the post of chancellor in the little principality of Carrara.1 The one thing, however, which he could not endure, was the routine of fixed employment. Therefore we find that he abandoned the Court of the Malaspini, and betook himself to the more congenial work of a wandering professor. His prodigious memory, by enabling him to retain, word for word, the text of authors he had read, proved of invaluable service to him in this career. His passionate poetic temper made him apt to raise enthusiasm in young souls for Uterary studies. Giovanni da Eavenna was in fact the first of those vagabond humanists with whom we shaU be occupied in the next chapters, and of whom FUelfo was the most iUustrious example. Florence, Padua, Venice, and many other cities of Italy received the Latinist, whose reputation now increased with every year. In each of these towns in succession he lectured upon Cicero and the Eoman poets, pouring forth the knowledge he had acquired in Petrarch's study, and trans mitting to his audience the inspiration he had received from 1 De Sade, in his Memoirs of Pebrcurch, gives an interesting account of this romantic episode in his life. See too Petrarch, Epist. Rer. Sen. lib. v. 6 and 7, pp. 802-806. JOHN OF RAVENNA 73 his master. The school thus formed was compared a century later to the Trojan horse, whence issued a band of heroes destined to possess the capital of classic learning. As a writer, he produced Uttle that is worth more than a passing notice. His real merit consisted, as Lionardo Bruni wit nessed, in his faculty of arousing a passion for pure literature, and especiaUy for the study of Cicero. Among his most iUustrious pupils may be mentioned Francesco Barbaro, Palla degli Strozzi, Eoberto de' Eossi. Francesco Filelfo, Carlo Marsuppini, Poggio Bracciolini, Lionardo Bruni, Guarino da Verona, Vittorino da Feltre, Ambrogio Traversari, Ognibene da Vicenza, and Pier Paolo Vergerio. This Ust, as wUl appear from the sequel of my work, includes nearly all those scholars who devoted their energies to erudition at Venice, Florence, Eome, Mantua, Ferrara, and Perugia in the fifteenth century. Giovanni da Eavenna deserves, therefore, to be honoured as the link between the age of Petrarch and the age of Poggio, as the vessel chosen for communicating the sacred fire of humanism to the Courts and Bepublics of Italy. None but a wanderer, vagus quidam, as Petrarch, half in scorn and haU in sorrow, caUed his proteg6, could so effectually have carried on the work of propagation.1 The name of the next student claiming our attention as a disciple of Petrarch, brings us once more back to Florence. Luigi Marsigli was a monk of the Augustine Order of S. Spirito. Petrarch, noticing his distinguished abilities, had exhorted him to make a special study of theology, and to enter the hsts as a champion of Christianity against the Averrhoists.2 Under the name of Averrhoists in the fourteenth century were ranged aU freethinkers who questioned the fundamental doctrines of the Church, doubted the immortality of the soul, and employed their ingenuity in a dialectic at least as trivial ' Epist. Rer. Sen. lib. xiv. 14, p. 942. 2 Epist. sine titulo, xviii. p. 732. 74 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY as that of the schoolmen, but directed to a very different end.1 Petrarch disliked their want of Uberal culture as much as ha abhorred their affectation of impiety. The stupid materialism they professed, their gross flippancy, and the idle pretence of natural science upon which they piqued themselves, were regarded by him as so many obstacles to his own ideal of humanism. He only saw in them another set of scholastic wranglers, worse than the theologians, inasmuch as they had cast off Christ. Against Averrhoes, ' the raging hound who barked at aU things sacred and Divine,' Petrarch therefore sought to stimulate the young Marsigli. MarsigU, however, while he shared Petrarch's respect for humane culture, seems to have sympathised with the audacity and freedom of his proposed antagonists. The Convent of S. Spirito became under his influence the centre of a learned society, who met there regularly for disputations. The theme chosen for dis cussion was posted up upon the wall of the debating-room, metaphysical and ethical subjects forming the most frequent matter of inquiry.2 Among the members of the circle who sharpened their wits in this species of dialectic, we find Coluccio de' Salutati, Eoberto de' Eossi, Niccolo de' Niccoli, and Giannozzo Manetti. The influence of Marsigli in forming their character was undoubtedly powerful. Poggio, in his funeral oration upon Niccolo de' Niccoli, tells us that ' the house of MarsigU was frequented by distinguished youths, who set themselves to imitate his life and habits ; it was, moreover, the resort of the best and noblest burghers of this city, who flowed together from all quarters to him as to some oracle of more than human wisdom.' 3 His inteUectual 1 See the exhaustive work of Renan, Averrois et V Averrotsme. 2 See Manetti's Life, Mur. xx. col. 531. Other references will be found in Vespasiano's Lives. Boccaccio's library was preserved in this convent. 3 Poggii Opera, p. 271. COLUCCIO SALUTATO 76 aouteness, soUd erudition, and winning eloquence were displayed in moral disquisitions upon Virgil, Cicero, and Seneca. In this way he had the merit of combining the dialectic method and the bold spirit of the Averrhoists with the sound learning and polite culture of the newly-discovered humanities. The Convent of S. Spirito has to be mentioned as the first of those many private academies to which the free thought and the scholarship of Italy were afterwards destined to owe so much. It is my object in this chapter to show how humanistic scholarship, starting from Petrarch, penetrated every depart ment of study, and began to permeate the intellectual life of the ItaUans. We have now to notice its intrusion into the sphere of pohtics. Petrarch died in 1374, Boccaccio in 1375. The latter date is also that of Coluccio de' Salutati's entrance upon the duties of Florentine Chancellor. Salutato, the friend of Boccaccio and the disciple of Marsigli, the professed worshipper of Petrarch and the translator of Dante into Latin verse, was destined to exercise an important influence in his own department as a styUst. Before he was called to act as secretary to the Signory of Florence in his forty-sixth year, he had already acquired the learning and imbibed the spirit of his age. He was known as a dUigent coUector of manuscripts and promoter of Greek studies, as a writer on mythology and morals, as an orator and miscellaneous author.1 His talents had now to be concentrated on the weightier business of the 1 Salutato's familiar letters, Lini Coluci Fieri Salutati Epistolarum Pars Secunda, Florentice, mdccxxxxi., are a valuable source of informa tion respecting scholarship at the close of the fourteenth century. See especially his letter to Benvenuto da Imola on the death of Petrarch (p. 32), his letter to the same about Petrarch's Africa (p. 41), another letter about the preservation of the Africa(p. 79), a letter to Petrarch's nephew E'rancesco da Brossano on the death of Boccaccio (p. 44), and a letter to a certain Comes Magnifious on the literary and philosophical genius of Petrarch (p. 49). 76 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY Florentine Eepublic ; but his study of antiquity caused him to conceive his duties and the poUtical relations of the State he served, in a new hght. During the wars carried on with Gregory XI. and the- Visconti, his pen was never idle. For the first time he introduced into public documents the gravity of style and melody of phrase he had learned in the school of classic rhetoricians. The effect produced by this literary statesman, as elegant in authorship as he was subtle in the conduct of affairs, can only be estimated at its proper value when we remember that the ItaUans were now ripe to receive the influence of rhetoric, and only too ready to attribute weight to verbal ingenuity. Gian Galeazzo Visconti is said to have declared that Salutato had done him more harm by his style than a troop of paid mercenaries.1 The epistles, despatches, protocols, and manifestoes composed by their Chancellor for the Florentine priors, were distributed through out Italy. Eead and copied by the secretaries of other states, they formed the models of a new State eloquence.2 Elegant Latinity became a necessary condition of pubhc documents, and Ciceronian phrases were henceforth reckoned among the indispensable engines of a diplomatic armoury. Offices of trust in the Papal Curia, the courts of the Despots, and the chanceries of the republics were thus thrown open to profes- 1 ' Galeacius Mediolanensium Princeps crebro auditus est dicere non tam sibi mille Florentinorum equites quam Colucii scripta nocere.' Pii Secundi Europm Commentarii, p. 454. 2 ' Costui fu de' migliori dittatori di pistole al mondo, perocche molti quando ne potevano avere, ne toglieano copie ; si piaceano a tutti gl' intendenti : e nelle corte di Be e di signori del mondo, e anchora de' cherici era di lui in questa arte maggiore fama che di alcuno altro uomo.' From the Chronicle of Luca da Scarparia. These epistles were collected and printed by Josephus Bigaccius.Bibliopola Florentinus Celeberrimus, in 1741. Among the letters written for the Signory of Florence, that of congratulation to Gian Galeazzo Visconti on his murder of Bernabo (p. 16), that to the French Cardinals (p. 18), to Sir John Hawkwood, or Domino Joanni Aucud (p. 107), to the Marquis of Moravia (p. 110), and to the Eomans (p. 141) deserve to be read. SALUTATO'S WORK AT FLORENCE 77 sional humanists. In the next age we shall find that neither princes, popes, nor priors could do without the services of trained stylists. WhUe concentrating attention upon this chief contribution of Salutato to Itahan scholarship, I must not omit to notice, however briefly, the patronage he exercised at Florence. Both Poggio Bracciolini and Lionardo Bruni owed their advancement to his interest.1 Giacomo da Scarparia, the first Florentine who visited Byzantium with a view to learn ing Greek, received from him the warmest encouragement, together with a commission for the purchase of manuscripts. To his activity in concert with Palla degli Strozzi was due the establishment of a Greek chair in the University of Florence. Nor was this zeal confined to the living. He composed the Lives of Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio, translated a portion of the ' Divine Comedy ' into Latin for its wider circulation through the learned world, and caused the ' Africa ' of Petrarch to be pubUshed.2 When the illustrious ChanceUor died, in the year 1406, at the age of seventy-six, he was honoured with a pubhc funeral ; the poet's crown was placed upon his brow, a panegyrical oration was recited, and a monument was erected to him in the Duomo.3 ' See the letter of Lionardo Bruni, quoted in Lini Coluci Fieri Salutati Epistolce, p. xv. Coluccio's own letter recommending Lionardo to Innocent VII., ib. p. 5, and his numerous familiar letters to Poggio, ib. pp. 13, 173, &c. 2 ' Certe cogitabam revidere librum, et si quid, ut soribis, vel ab- sonum, vel contra metrorum regulam intolerabile deprehendissem, curiosius elimare et sicut Naso finxit in iEneida, singulos libros paucis versiculis quasi in argument! formam brevissime resumere, et exinde pluribus sumptis exemplis, et per me ipsum correctis et diligenterrevisis, unum ad Bononiense gymnasium, unum Parisiis, unum in Angliam cum mea epistola de libri laudibus destinare, et unum in Florentia ponere in loco celebri,' &c. Epistola, part ii. p. 80. 3 Among the other laureati who filled the post of Florentine Chan cellor may be mentioned Dante's tutor, Brunetto Latini, Lionardo Bruni, 78 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY What Salutato accompUshed for the style of public docu ments, Gasparino da Barzizza effected for familiar correspon dence. After teaching during several years at Venice and Padua, he was summoned to Milan in 1418 by FUippo Maria Visconti, who ordered him to open a school in that capital. Gasparino made a special study of Cicero's Letters, and caused his pupils to imitate them as closely as possible, forming in this way an art of fluent letter- writing known afterwards as the ars familiariter scribendi. Epistolography in general, considered as a branch of elegant literature, occupied aU the scholars of the Eenaissance, and had the advantage of establishing a link of union between learned men in different parts of Italy. We therefore recognise in Gasparino the initiator, after Petrarch, of a highly important branch of Italian culture. This, when. it reached maturity, culminated in the affectations of the Ciceronian purists. It must be understood that neither Salutato nor Gasparino attained to real poUsh or freedom of style. Compared even with the Latinity of Poggio, theirs is heavy and uncouth ; whUe that of Poggio seems barbarous by the side of PoUziano's, and Poliziano in turn yields the palm of mere correctness to Bembo. It was only by degrees that the taste of the Italians formed itself, and that facility was acquired in writing a lost language. The fact that mediasval Latin was still used in legal documents, in conversation, in the offices of the Church, and in the theological works which formed the staple of aU libraries, impeded the recovery of a classic style. When the Italians had finaUy learned how to pohsh prose, it was easy to hand on the art to other nations ; whUe to sneer at their pedantry, as Erasmus did, was no matter of great difficulty. By that time their scrupulous and anxious preoccupation with purity of phrase threatened danger to the interests of liberal learning. Carlo Marsuppini, Poggio Bracciolini, and Benedetto Accolti, oi whom more hereafter. MANUEL CHRYSOLORAS 79 Hitherto, with the exception only of Boccaccio's Greek studies, I have had to trace the rise of Latin letters and to call particular attention to the cult of Cicero in Italy. It is now necessary to mention the advent of a man who played a part in the revival of learning only second to that of Petrarch. Manuel Chrysoloras, a Byzantine of noble birth, came to Italy during the Pontificate of BonUace IX., charged by the Emperor Palseologus with the mission of attempting to arm the states of Christendom against the Turk. Like all the Greeks who visited Western Europe, Chrysoloras first alighted in Venice ; but the Eepublic of the Lagoons neither understood the secret nor felt the need of retaining these birds of passage. After a few months they almost invariably passed on to Florence — the real centre of the inteUectual life of Italy. As soon as it was known that Chrysoloras, who enjoyed the fame of being the most accompUshed and eloquent HeUenist of his age, had arrived with his companion, Demetrios Kydonios, in Venice, two noble Florentines, Eoberto de' Eossi and Giacomo d' Angelo da Scarparia, set forth to visit him. The residence of the Greek ambassadors in Italy on this occasion was but brief ; they found that, poUtically, they could effect nothing. But Giacomo da Scarparia journeyed in their society to By zantium ; whUe Eoberto de' Eossi returned to Florence, full of the impression which the erudite phUosophers had left upon him. The report he made to his feUow-citizens awoke a passionate desire in Palla degU Strozzi and Niccolo de' NiccoU to bring Chrysoloras in person to Florence. Their urgent appeals to the Signory resulted in an invitation whereby Chrysoloras in 1396 was induced to fill the Greek chair in the university. A yearly stipend of 150 golden florins, raised afterwards to 250, was voted for his maintenance. This en gagement secured the future of Greek erudition in Europe. The merit of having brought the affair to a successful issue belongs principally to Palla degli Strozzi, of whom Vespasiano 80 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY wrote : ' There being, in Florence exceeding good knowledge of Latin letters, but of Greek none, he resolved that this defect should be remedied, and therefore did aU he could to make Manuel Grisolora visit Italy, using all his influence thereto and paying a large portion of the expense incurred.' ' We must not, however, omit the share which Coluccio Salu tato,2 by his influence with the Signory, and Niccolo de' NiccoU, by the interest he exerted with the Uffiziali dello Studio, may also claim. Among the audience of this the first true teacher of Greek at Florence were numbered Palla degli Strozzi, Eoberto de' Eossi, Poggio Bracciolini, Lionardo Bruni, Francesco Barbaro, Giannozzo Manetti, Carlo Marsuppini, and Ambrogio Traversari — some of them young men of eighteen, others old and grey-haired, nearly all of them the scholars in Latinity of Giovanni da Eavenna. Nor was Florence the only town to receive the learning of Chrysoloras. He opened schools at Eome, at Padua, at MUan, and at Venice ; so that his influence as a wandering professor was at least equal to that exercised by Giovanni da Eavenna. The impulse communicated to the study of antiquity by Chrysoloras, and the noble enthusiasm of his scholars for pure literature, may best be understood from a passage in the ' ' Commentaries ' of Lionardo Bruni, whereof the foUowing is a compressed translation:3 — 'Letters at this period grew mightUy in Italy, seeing that the knowledge of Greek, inter mitted for seven centuries, revived. Chrysoloras of Byzantium, a man of noble birth and well skilled in Greek literature, brought to us Greek learning. I at that time was following the civU law, though not UI- versed in other studies ; for by nature I loved learning with ardour, nor had I given slight • Vite d' Vomini IlVustri, p. 271. * Cf. the letter quoted by Voigt (p. 180) to Giacomo da Scarparia which shows Colucoio's enthusiasm for Greek. 3 Mur. xix. 920. BRUNI ON GREEK LEARNING 81 pains to dialectic and to rhetoric. Therefore, at the coming ¦ of Chrysoloras, I was made to halt in my choice of lives, see ing that I held it wrong to desert law, and yet I reckoned it a crime to omit so great an occasion of learning the Greek literature ; and oftentimes I reasoned with myself after this manner : — Can it be that thou, when thou mayest gaze on Homer, Plato, and Demosthenes, together with other poets, phUosophers, and orators, concerning whom so great and so wonderful things are said, and mayest converse with them, and receive their admirable doctrine — can it be that thou wilt desert thyself and neglect the opportunity divinely offered thee ? Through seven hundred years no one in all Italy has been master of Greek letters ; and yet we acknowledge that aU science is derived from them. Of civil law, indeed, there are in every city scores of doctors ; but should this single and unique teacher of Greek be removed, thou wilt find no one to instruct thee. Conquered at last by these reasonings, I de livered myself over to Chrysoloras with such passion that what I had received from him by day in hours of waking, occupied my mind at night in hours of sleep.' The earnestness of this paragraph is characteristic of the whole period. The scholars who assembled in the lecture- rooms of Chrysoloras, felt that the Greek texts* whereof he alone supplied the key, contained those elements of spiritual freedom and mteUectual culture without which the civilisation of the modern world would be impossible. Nor were they mistaken in what was then a guess rather than a certainty. The study of Greek imphed the birth of criticism, comparison, research. Systems based on ignorance and superstition were destined to give way before it. The study of Greek opened philosophical horizons far beyond ths dream-world of the churchmen and the monks ; it stimulated the germs of science, suggested new astronomical hypotheses, and indirectly led to the discovery of America. The study of Greek resuscitated II Q 82 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY a sense of the beautiful in art and Uterature. It subjected the creeds of Christianity, the language of the Gospels, the doctrine of S. Paul, to analysis, and commenced a new era for Biblical inquiry. If it be true, as a writer no less sober in his phUosophy than eloquent in his language has lately asserted, that, ' except the blind forces of nature, nothing moves in this world which is not Greek in its origin,' we are justified in regarding the point of contact between the Greek teacher Chrysoloras and his Florentine pupils as one of the most momentous crises in the history of civilisation. Indirectly, the Itahan intellect had hitherto felt Hellenic influence through Latin literature. It was now about to receive that influence immediately from actual study of the masterpieces of the Attic authors. The world was no longer to be kept in ignor ance of those ' eternal consolations ' of the human race. No longer could the scribe omit Greek quotations from his Latin text with the dogged snarl of obtuse self-satisfaction — Grceca sunt, ergo non legenda. The motto had rather to be changed into a cry of warning for ecclesiastical authority upon the verge of dissolution — Grceca sunt, ergo periculosa : since the re awakening faith in human reason, the reawakening behef in the dignity of man, the desire for beauty, the Uberty, audacity, and passion of the Eenaissance, received from Greek studies their strongest and most vital impulse. M CHAPTER ni FIRST PBEI0D OP HUMANISM Condition of the Universities in Italy — Bologna— High Schools founded from it — Naples under Frederick II. — Under the House of Anjou — Ferrara — Piacenza — Perugia — Eome — Pisa — Florence —Imperial and Papal Charters — Foreign Students — Professorial Staff — Subjects taught in the High Schools — Place assigned to Humanism — Pay of the Professors of Eloquence — Francesco Filelfo — The Humanists less powerful at the Universities — Method of Humanistic Teaching — The Book Market before Printing — Mediaeval Libraries — Cost of Manu scripts — Stationam&ndi Peciarii — Negligence of Copyists — Discovery of Classical Codices — Boccaccio at Monte Cassino — Poggio at Con stance — Convent of S.Gallen — Bruni's Letter to Poggio — Manuscripts discovered by Poggio — Nicholas of Treves — Collection of Greek Manuscripts — Aurispa, Filelfo, and Guarino — The Buins of Eome — Their Influence on Humanism — Dante and Villani — Eienzi — His Idealistic Patriotism — Vanity — Political Incompetence — Petrarch's Eelations with Eienzi — Injury to Monuments in Eome — Poggio's Eoman Topography — Sentimental Feeling for the Buins of Antiquity . — Ciriac of Ancona. Having so far traced the quickening of a new sense for antiquity among the ItaUans, it wUl be weU at this point to consider the external resources of Humanism before continuing the history of the Eevival in the fifteenth century. The con dition of the universities, the state of the book trade before the invention of printing, and the discovery of manuscripts claim separate attention ; nor may it be out of place to inquire what stimulus the enthusiasm for classical studies received from the ruins of Eome. A review of these topics wiU help to explain the circumstances under which the pioneers of a 2 84 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY culture had to labour, and the nature of the crusade they instituted against ignorance in every part of Europe. The oldest and most frequented university in Italy, that of Bologna, is represented as having flourished in the twelfth century.1 Its prosperity in early times depended greatly on the personal conduct of the principal professors, who, when they were not satisfied with their entertainment, were in the habit of seceding with their pupils to other cities. Thus high schools were opened from time to time in Modena, Eeggio, and elsewhere by teachers who broke the oaths that bound them to reside in Bologna, and fixed their centre of education in a rival town. To make such temporary changes was not difficult in an age when what we have to caU an university, consisted of masters and scholars, without coUege buildings, without libraries, without endowments, and without scientific apparatus. The technical name for such institutions seems to have been studium scholarium, Italianised into studio or studio pubblico.2 Among the more permanent results of these secessions may be mentioned the establishment of the high school at Vicenza by translation from Bologna in 1204, and the opening of a school at Arezzo under similar circum stances in 1215 ; the great University of Padua first saw the light in consequence of political discords forcing the professors to quit Bologna for a season.3 The first half of the thirteenth century witnessed the foundation of these studi in considerable numbers. That of VerceUi was opened in 1228, the municipality providing two certified copyists for the convenience of students who might 1 Tiraboschi, Storia della Letteratura Italiana, vol. iv. p. 42 et seq., vol. v. p. 60 et seq. Large quarto, Modena, 1787. 2 See Muratori, vol. viii. 15, 75, 372. Matteo ViUani, lib. i. cap. 8. 3 'Hoc anno translatum est Studium Scholarium de Bononia Pa- duam.' Mur. viii. 372. HIGH SCHOOLS 85 wish to purchase text-books.1 In 1224 the Emperor Frede rick II. , to whom the south of Italy owed a precocious emi nence in literature, established the University of Naples by an Imperial diploma.2 With a view to rendering it the chief seat of learning in his dominions, he forbade the subjects of the Eegno to frequent other schools, and suppressed the University of Bologna by letters general. Thereupon Bologna joined the Lombard League, defied the emperor, and refused to close the schools, which numbered at that period about ten thousand students of various nationaUties. In 1227 Frederick revoked his edict, and Bologna remained thenceforward unmolested. Pohtical and internal vicissitudes, affecting all the Italian universities at this period, interrupted the prosperity of that of Naples. In the middle of the thirteenth century Salerno proved a dangerous rival ; but when the House of Anjou was established in the kingdom of the SiciUes, special privileges were granted, restoring the high school of the capital to the first rank. Charles I. created a separate court of jurisdiction for its management. This consisted of a judge and three assessors, one for the control of foreigners, another for the subjects of the Eegno, and the third for Italians from other states. In 1264 we find a pubUc school in operation at Ferrara. By its charter the professors were exempt from military ser vice. The University of Piacenza came into existence a httle earUer. Innocent IV. estabhshed it in 1248, with privileges sirrdlar to those of Paris and Bologna. An important group of studi pubbUci owed their origin to Papal or Imperial charters in the first half of the fourteenth century. That of Perugia was founded in 1307 by a Bull of Clement V. That 1 They were called '.Exemplatores.' See Tiraboschi, vol. iv. lib. i cap. 2. 8 Muratori, vii. p. 997. Amari, Storia dei Mussulmani di SiciUa, vol. iii. p. 706. 88 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY of Eome dated from 1303, in which year Boniface VIII. gave it a constitution by a special edict ; but the translation of the Papal See to Avignon caused it to faU into premature deca dence. The University of Pisa had already existed for some years, when it received a charter in 1343 from Clement VI. That of Florence was first founded in 1321. ' In 1348 a place for its public buildings was assigned between the Duomo and the Palazzo Pubblico, on the site of what was afterwards known as the Collegium Eugenianum. A councU of eight burghers was appointed for its management, and a yearly sum was set apart for its maintenance. In 1349 Clement VI. gave it the same privileges as the University of Bologna, while in 1364 it received an Imperial diploma from Charles IV. The same emperor granted charters to Siena in 1357, to Arezzo in 1356, and to Lucca in 1369. In 1362 Galeazzo Visconti ob tained a charter for his University of Pavia from Charles IV., with the privileges of Paris, Oxford, and Bologna. It will be observed that the majority of the studi pubblici obtained charters either from the Pope or the emperor, or from both, less for the sake of any immediate benefit to be derived from Papal or Imperial patronage, than because supreme authority in Italy was stiU referred to one or other of these heads. It was a great object with each city to in crease its wealth by attracting foreigners as residents, and to retain the native youth within its precincts. The municipali ties, therefore, accorded immunities from taxation and military service to bona fide students, prohibited their burghers from seeking rival places of learning, and in some cases aUowed the university authorities to exercise a special jurisdiction over the motley multitude of scholars from aU countries. How misceUaneous the concourse in some of the high schools used to be, may be gathered from the reports extracted by Tira- boschi from their registers. At Vicenza, for example, in 1209 1 See Von Eeumont, Lorenzo de' Medici, vol. i. p. 521. IMPORTANCE OF THE HIGH SCHOOLS 87 we find the names of Bohemians, Poles, Frenchmen, Burg undians, Germans, and Spaniards, as weU as of Italians of divers towns. The rectors of this studio in 1205 included an Enghshman, a Provencal, a German, and a Cremonese. The lists of illustrious students at Bologna between 1265 and 1294 show men of all the European nationalities, proving that the foreigners attracted by the university must have formed no inconsiderable element in the whole population.1 This will account for the prominent part played by the students from time to time in the poUtical history of Bologna.2 The importance attached by great cities to their universities as a source of strength, may be gathered from the chapter in Matteo VUlani's Chronicle describing the foundation of the studio pubblico in Florence.3 He expressly mentions that the Signory were induced to take this step in consequence of the depopulation inflicted by the Black Death of 1348. By drawing residents to Florence from other States, they hoped to increase the number of the inhabitants, and to restore the decayed fame and splendour of the commonwealth.4 At the same time they thought that serious studies might put an end to the demoralisation produced in all classes by the plague. With this object in view, they engaged the best teachers, and did not hesitate to devote a yearly sum of 2,500 golden florins to the maintenance of their high school. Bologna, which owed even more than Florence to its university, is said to have lavished as much as half of its revenue, about 20,000 ducats, on the pay of professors and other incidental expenses. The actual cost incurred by cities through their schools can not, however, be accurately estimated, since it varied from year to year according to the engagements made with special ' In 1320 there were at least 15,000 students in Bologna. ¦ See Sismondi, vol. iii. p. 349. • Lib. i. cap. 8. 4 ' Volendo attrarre gente alia nostra citta, e dilatarla in onore. s dare materia a' suoi cittadini d' essere scienziati e virtudiosi.' 88 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY teachers. At Pavia, for example, in 1400, the university supported in Canon Law several eminent doctors, in Civil Law thirteen, in Medicine five, in Philosophy three, in Astro logy one, in Greek one, and in Eloquence one.1 Whether this staff was maintained after the lapse of another twenty years we do not know for certain. The subjects taught in the high schools were Canon and Civil Law, Medicine, and Theology. These faculties, impor tant for the professional education of the pubhc, formed the staple of the academical curriculum. Chairs of Ehetoric, Philosophy, and Astronomy were added according to occasion, the last sometimes including the study of judicial astrology. If we inquire how the humanists or professors of classic literature were related to the universities, we find that, at first at any rate, they always occupied a second rank. The per manent teaching remained in the hands of jurists, who enjoyed life engagements at a high rate of pay, while the Latinista and Grecians could only aspire to the temporary occupation of the Chair of Ehetoric, with salaries considerably lower than those of lawyers or physicians. The cause of this inferiority is easUy explained. It was natural that important and re munerative branches of learning like law and medicine should attract a greater number of students than pure literature, and that their professors should be better paid than the teachers of eloquence. Padua, Bologna, and Pavia in particular retained their legal speciality throughout the period of the Eenaissance, and remained but Uttle open to humanistic influences. At Padua we find from Sanudo's Diary a that an eminent jurist received a stipend of 1,000 ducats. A Doctor of Medicine at the same university, in 1491, received a simi lar stipend, together with the right of private practice. At 1 Cf. Corio, p. 290. He gives the names of the professors who attended at the funeral of Gian Galeazzo Visconti. * Mur. xxii. 990. PAY OF JURISTS AND HUMANISTS 89 Bologna the famous jurist Abbas Siculus (Niccolo de' Tudeschi) drew 800 scudi yearly ; at Padua Giovanni da Imola in 1406, and Paolo da Castro in 1430, drew a sum of 600 ducats.1 About the same time (1453) Lauro Quirino, who professed rhetoric at Padua, was paid at the rate of only forty ducats yearly, while Lorenzo Valla, at Pavia, filled the Chair of Eloquence with an annual stipend of fifty sequins. The dis parity between the remuneration of jurists and that of humanists was not so great at all the universities. Florence in especial formed a notable exception. From the date of its commencement the Florentine studio was partial to literature ; and it is worth remarking that when Lorenzo de' Medici transferred the high school to Pisa, he retained at Florence the professors of the Uberal sciences and belles-lettres. The great reputation of eminent rhetoricians, again, often secured for them temporary engagements at a high rate. Thus we gather from Eosmini's ' Life of Filelfo ' that this humanist received from Venice the offer of 500 sequins yearly as remu neration for his professorial services. Bologna proposed an annual stipend of 450 sequins when he undertook to lecture upon eloquence and moral philosophy. At Florence his income amounted to 350 golden florins, secured for three years, and subsequently raised to 450. With Siena he stipu lated for 350 golden florins for two years. At Milan his Chair of Eloquence was endowed with 500 golden florins, and this salary was afterwards mcreased to 700. Nicholas V. offered him an annual income of 600 ducats if he would devote himself to the translation of Greek books into Latin, while Sixtus IV. tried to bring him to Eome by proposing 600 Boman florins as the stipend of the Chair of Ehetoric. The fact, however, remains that whUe the special study of antiquity preoccupied the minds of the Italians, and attracted aU the finer intellects among the youth ambitious 1 See Voigt, p. 447. 90 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY of distinction, its professors never succeeded in taking com plete possession of the universities. Their position there was always that of wandering stars and resident aliens. This accounts in some measure for the bitter hostihty and arrogant scorn which they displayed against the teachers of theology and law and medicine. The real home of the humanists was in the Courts of princes, the palaces of the cultivated burghers, the Eoman Curia, and the chanceries of the repubUcs. As secretaries, house tutors, readers, Court poets, historiographers, public orators, and companions they were indispensable.. We shall therefore find that the private academies formed by the Uterati and their patrons, the schools of princes estab lished at Mantua and Ferrara, and the residences of great nobles play a more important part in the history of humanism than do the universities. At the same time the spirit of the new culture diffused by the humanists so thoroughly per meated the whole intellectual activity of the Italians, that in course of time the special studies of the high schools assumed a more literary and Uberal form. The classics then supplied the starting-point for juristic and medical disquisitions. Poliziano was seen lecturing upon the Pandects of Justinian, while Pomponazzi made the Chair of PhUosophy at Padua subservient to the exposition of materiaUsm. This triumph of humanism, Uke its triumph in the Church, was effected less by immediate working on the universities than by a gradual and indirect determination of the whole race towards the study of antiquity. In picturing to ourselves the method pursued by the humanists in the instruction of their classes, we must divest our minds of all associations with the practice of modem professors. Very few of the students whom the master saw before him, possessed more than meagre portions of the text of Virgil or of Cicero ; they had no notes, grammars, lexicons, or dictionaries of antiquities and mythology, to help them. A PROFESSOR'S LECTURES 91 It was therefore necessary for the lecturer to dictate quota tions, to repeat paraUel passages at full length, to explain geographical and historical aUusions, to analyse the structure of sentences in detail, to provide copious iUustrations of grammatical usage, to trace the stages by which a word acquired its meanmg in a special context, to command a fuU vocabulary of synonyms, to give rules for orthography, and to have the whole Pantheon at his fingers' ends. In addition to this, he was expected to comment upon the meaning of his author, to interpret his philosophy, to point out the beauties of his style, to introduce appropriate moral disquisition on his doctrine, to sketch his biography, and to give some account of his relation to the history of his country and to his pre decessors in the field of letters. In short, the professor of rhetoric had to be a grammarian, a philologer, an historian, a styhst, and a sage in one. He was obliged to pretend at least to an encyclopaedic knowledge of the classics, and to retain whole volumes in his memory. AU these requirements, which ' seem to have been satisfied by such men as Filelfo and Poli ziano, made the profession of eloquence — for so the varied subject matter of humanism was often caUed — a very different business from that which occupies a lecturer of the present century. Scores of students, old and young, with nothing but pen and paper on the desks before them, sat patiently recording what the lecturer said. At the end of his discourses on the ' Georgics ' or the ' Verrines,' each of them carried away a compendious volume, containing a transcript of the author's text, together with a misceUaneous mass of notes, critical, explanatory, ethical, aesthetical, historical, and biographical. In other words, a book had been dictated, and as many scores of copies as there were attentive pupils had been made.1 The 1 Many of the earliest printed editions of the Latin poets give an exact notion of what such lectures must have been. The text is em bedded in an all-embracing commentary. 92 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY language used was Latin. No dialect of Italian could have been intelUgible to the students of different nationalities who crowded the lecture-rooms. The elementary education in grammar requisite for following a professorial course of lec tures had been previously provided by the teachers of the Latin schools, which depended for maintenance partly on the State • and partly on private enterprise. The Church does not seem to have undertaken the management of these primary boys' schools. Since this was the nature of academical instruction in the humanities before the age of printing, it followed that the professor had a direct interest in frequently shifting his scene of operations. More than a certain number of such books as I have just attempted to describe could not be carried in his head. After he had dictated his work on the ' Georgics ' at Florence, he was naturally anxious to move to Milan and to do the same. A new audience gave new value to his lectures, and another edition, as it were, of his book was put in circu lation. In the correspondence which passed between profes- • sors and the rectors of the high schools previously to an engagement, we sometimes find that the former undertake to explain particular authors during their proposed residence. On these authors they had no doubt bestowed the best years of their lives, making them the vehicle for all the miscellaneous learning they possessed, and grounding their fame upon the beauty, clearness, and copiousness of their exposition.2 Having described the conditions under which professorial teaching was conducted in the fifteenth century, it is now of some importance to form a notion of the state of the book market and the diffusion of MSS. before tho invention of 1 Cf. Villani's Statistics of Florence, and Corio's of Milan. 2 For humorous but vivid pictures of a professor's lecture-room, see the macaronic poemi of Odassi and Fossa quoted by me in vol. v. of this work. SCARCITY OF BOOKS 93 printing. Difficult as it is to speak with accuracy on these topics, some facts must be collected, seeing that the high price and comparative rarity of books contributed in a very important degree to determine the character of the instruction provided by the humanists. Scarcity of books was at first a chief impediment to the study of antiquity. Popes and princes and even great rehgious institutions possessed far fewer books than many farmers of the present age. The library belonging to the Cathedral Church of S. Martino at Lucca in the ninth century contained only nineteen volumes of abridgments from ecclesiastical commentaries. The Cathedral of Novara in 1212 could boast copies of Boethius, Priscian, the ' Code of Justinian,' the 1 Decretals,' and the ' Etymology ' of Isidorus, besides a Bible and some devotional treatises.1 This slender stock passed for graat riches. Each of the precious volumes in such a collec tion was an epitome of mediaaval art. Its pages were com posed of fine veUum adorned with pictures.2 The initial letters displayed elaborate flourishes and exquisitely illumin ated groups of figures. The scribe took pains to render his caligraphy perfect, and to ornament the margins with crimson, gold, and blue. Then he handed the parchment sheets to the binder, who encased them in rich settings of velvet or carved ivory and wood, embossed with gold and precious stones. The edges were gUt and stamped with patterns. The clasps were of wrought sUver, chased with niello. The price of such masterpieces was enormous. Borso d' Este, in 1464, gave eight gold ducats to Gherardo Ghislieri of Bologna for an Uluminated LanceUotto, and in 1469 he bought a Josephus and Quintus Curtius for forty ducats.3 His great Bible in two 1 See Cantu, Storia della Letteratura Italiana, p. 105, note. 2 'Hodie Scriptores non sunt Scriptores sed Pictores,' quoted by Tiraboschi, vol. iv. lib. i. cap. 4. 3 See Cantu, loc. cit. p. 104. 94 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY volumes is said to have cost 1,376 sequins. Einaldo degli Albizzi notes in his Memoirs that he paid eleven golden florins for a Bible at Arezzo in 1406. Of these MSS. the greater part were manufactured in the cloisters, and it was here too that the martyrdom of ancient authors took place. Lucretius and Livy gave place to chronicles, antiphonaries, and homilies. Parchment was extremely dear, and the scroUs which nobody could read might be scraped and washed. Accordingly, the copyist erased the learning of the ancients, and fiUed the fair blank space he gained with litanies. At the same time it is but just to the monks to add that paUmpsests have occasion ally been found in which ecclesiastical works have yielded place to copies of the Latin poets used in elementary educa tion.1 Another obstacle to the diffusion of learning was the incompetence of the copyists. It is true that at the great universities stationarii, who supplied the text-books in use to students, were certified and subjected to the control of special censors called peciarii. Yet their number was not large, and when they quitted the routine to which they were accustomed their incapacity betrayed itself by numerous errors.2 Petrarch's invective against the professional copyists shows the depth to which the art had sunk. ' Who,' he exclaims, ' will discover a cure for the ignorance and vUe sloth of these copyists, who spoil everything and turn it to nonsense ? If Cicero, Livy, and other illustrious ancients were to return to Ufe, do you think they would understand their own works ? There is no check upon these copyists, selected without examination or test of their capacity. Workmen, husbandmen, weavers, 1 See Comparetti, vol. i. p. 114. 2 In Milan, in the fourteenth century, when the population was estimated at about 200,000, the town could boast of only fifty copyists. Tirab. loc. cit. cap. 4. THE COPYISTS 95 artisans, are not indulged in the same Uberty.' ' Coluccio Salutato repeats the same complaint, averring that the copies of Dante and Petrarch no more correspond to the originals than bad statues to the men they pretend to represent. At the same time the copyists formed a necessary and flourishing class of craftsmen. TheywereweUpaid. Ambrogio Traversari told his friend Giustiniani in 1430 that he could recommend him a good scribe at the pay of thirty golden florins a year and his keep. Under these circumstances it was usual for even the most eminent scholars, Uke Petrarch, Boccaccio, and Poggio, to make their own copies of MSS. Niccolo de' Niccoli transcribed nearly the whole of the codices that formed the nucleus of the Library of the Mark. Sometimes they sold them or made advantageous changes. Poggio, for example, sold two volumes of S. Jerome's ' Letters ' to LioneUo d' Este for 100 golden florins. BeccadeUi bought a Livy from him for 120 golden florins, having parted with a farm to defray the expense. It is clear that the first step toward the revival of 1 DeRemedHs utriusque Fortunes, lib. i. dial. 43, p. 42. The passage condensed above is so valuable for a right understanding of the human istic feeling about manuscripts that I shall transcribe portions of the original : — ' Libri innumerabiles sunt mihi. Et errores innumeri, quidam ab impiis, alii ab indoctis editi. Illi quidem religioni ac pietati et divinis Uteris, hi naturae ac justitias moribusque et liberalibus disciplinis seu historiae rerumque gestarum fidei, omnes autem vero adversi; inque omnibus, et prassertim primis ubi majoribus agitur de rebus, et vera falsis immixta sunt, perdimcilis ac periculosa discretio est . . . scriptorum inscitiae inertiaeque, corrumpenti omnia miscentique . . . ignavissima astas haec culinae solicita, literarum negligens, et coquos examinans non scriptores. Quisquis itaque pingere aliquid in membranis, manuque calamum versare didicerit, scriptor. habebitur, doctrincB omnis ignarus, expers ingenii, artis egens . . . nunc confusis exemplaribus et exempli s, unum scribere polliciti, sic aliud scribunt ut quod ipse dictaveris, non agnoscas . . . accedunt et scriptores nulla frenati lege, nullo probati examine, nullo judicio electi ; non fabris, non agricolis, non textoribus, non ulli fere artium tanta licentia est, cum sit in aliis leve periculum, in hac grave ; sine delectu tamen scribendum ruunt omnes, et cuncta vas- tantibos certa sunt pretia.' 98 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY learning implied three things : first, the coUection of MSS. wherever they could be saved from the indolence of the monks ; secondly, the formation of Ubraries for their preservation ; and, thirdly, the invention of an art whereby they might be mutiphed cheaply, conveniently, and accurately. The labour involved in the coUection of classical manu scripts had to be performed by a few enthusiastic scholars, who received no help from the universities and their academical scribes, and who met with no sympathy in the monasteries they were bent on ransacking. The new culture demanded whoUy new machinery ; and new runners in the torch-race of civihsation sprang into existence. The high schools were contented with their summaries and glosses. The monks performed at best the work of earthworms, who unwittingly preserve fragments of Greek architecture from corrosion by heaping mounds of mould and rubbish round them. Mean while the humanists went forth with the instinct of explorers to release the captives and awake the dead. From the convent libraries of Italy, from the museums of Constantinople, from the abbeys of Germany and Switzerland and France, the slumbering spirits of the ancients had to be evoked. The chivalry of learning, banded together for this service, might be hkened to Crusaders. As the Franks deemed themselves thrice blest if they returned with relics from Jerusalem, so these new Knights of the Holy Ghost, seeking not the sepulchre of a risen God, but the tombs wherein the genius of the ancient world awaited resurrection, felt holy transports when a brown, begrimed, and crabbed copy of some Greek or Latin author rewarded their patient quest. Days and nights they spent in carefuUy transcribing it, comparing their own MS. with the original, multiplying facsimiles, and sending them abroad with free hands to students who in their turn took copies, tUl the treasure-trove became the common property of all who could appreciate its value. This work of BOCCACCIO AT MONTE CASSINO 97 discovery began with Petrarch. I have already alluded to the journeys he undertook in the hope of collecting the lost MSS. of Cicero. It was carried on by Boccaccio. The account given by Benvenuto da Imola of Boccaccio's visit to Monte Cassino brings vividly before us both the ardour of these first explorers and the apathy of the Benedictines (who have some times been called the saviours of learning) with regard to the treasures of their own Ubraries : J — ' With a view to the clearer understanding of this text (' Paradiso,' xxii. 74), I will relate what my revered teacher, Boccaccio of Certaldo, humorously told me. He said that when he was in Apulia, attracted by the celebrity of the convent, he paid a visit to Monte Cassino, whereof Dante speaks. Desirous of seeing the collection of books, which he understood to be a very choice one, he modestly asked a monk — for he was always most courteous in manners — to open the Ubrary, as a favour, for him. The monk answered stiffly, pointing to a steep staircase, " Go up ; it is open." Boccaccio went up gladly ; but he found that the place which held so great a treasure, was without or door or key. He entered, and saw grass sprouting on the windows, and aU the books and benches thick with dust. In his astonish ment he began to open and turn the leaves of first one tome and then another, and found many and divers volumes of ancient and foreign works. Some of them had lost several sheets ; others were snipped and pared all round the text, and mutUated m various ways. At length, lamenting that the toU and study of so many iUustrious men should have passed into the hands of most abandoned wretches, he departed with tears and sighs. Coming to the cloister, he asked a monk whom he met, why those valuable books had been so dis- gracefuUy mangled. He answered that the monks, seeking to gain a few soldi, were in the habit of cutting off sheets and 1 ' Commentary on the Divine Comedy,' ap. Muratori, Antiq. Ital. vol i. p. 1296. II H 98 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY making psalters, which they sold to boys. The margins too they manufactured into charms, and sold to women. So then, 0 man of study, go to and rack your brains ; make books that you may come to this ! ' What Italy contained of ancient codices soon saw the light. The visit of Poggio Bracciolini to Constance (1414) opened up for Italian scholars the stores that lay neglected in transalpine monasteries. Poggio's office of Apostolic Secre tary obliged him to attend the CouncU of Constance for the purpose of framing reports and composing diplomatic docu ments. At the same time he had ample leisure on his hands, and this he spent in exploring the Ubraries of Swiss and Suabian convents. The treasures he unearthed at Eeichenau, Weingarten, and above all S. Gallon, restored to Italy many lost masterpieces of Latin Uterature, and supplied students with fuU texts of authors who had hitherto been known in mutilated copies. The account he gave of his visit to S. Gallen in a Latin letter to a friend is justly celebrated.1 After describing the wretched state in which the ' Institutions ' of Quintilian had previously existed,2 he proceeds as foUows : — ' I verUy believe that, if we had not come to the rescue, he [Quintilian] must speedily have perished ; for it cannot be imagined that a man magnificent, polished, elegant, urbane, «md witty could much longer have endured the squalor of the prison-house in which I found him, the savagery of his jaUers, the forlorn filth of the place. He was indeed right sad to look upon, and ragged, hke a condemned criminal, with rough beard and matted hair, protesting by his countenance and garb against the injustice of his sentence. He seemed to be stretching out his hands, calling upon the Eomans, demanding 1 Mur. xx. 160. 2 Petrarch in 1350 found a bad copy at Florence. Poggio describes it thus : — ' Is vero apud nos antea, Italos dico, ita laceratus erat, ita circumcisus culpa, ut opinor, temporum, ut nulla forma, nullus habitue hominis in eo recognosceretur.' POGGIO AT S. GALLEN 99 to be saved from so unmerited a doom. Hard indeed it was for him to bear, that he who had preserved the Uves of many by his eloquence and aid, should now find no redresser of his wrongs, no saviour from the unjust punishment awaiting him. But as it often happens, to quote Terence, that what you dare not wish for comes to you by chance, so a good fortune for him, but far more for ourselves, led us, while wasting our time in idleness at Constance, to take a fancy for visiting the place where he was held in prison. The monastery of S. GaUen Ues at the distance of some twenty miles from that city. Thither, then, partly for the sake of amusement and partly of finding books, whereof we heard there was a large coUection in the convent, we directed our steps. In the middle of a weU-stocked Ubrary, too large to catalogue at present, we discovered QuintiUan, safe as yet and sound, though covered with dust and filthy with neglect and age. The books, you must know, were not housed according to their worth, but were lying in a most foul and obscure dun geon at the very bottom of a tower, a place into which con demned criminals would hardly have been thrust ; and I am firmly persuaded that if anyone would but explore those ergastvila of the barbarians wherein they incarcerate such men, we should meet with Uke good fortune in the case of many whose funeral orations have long ago been pronounced. Besides QuintiUan, we exhumed the three first books and a half of the four th book of the " Argonautica " of Flaccus, and the " Commentaries " of Asconius Pedianus upon eight orations of Cicero.' Poggio, immediately after this discovery, set himself to work at transcribing the QuintiUan, a labour accomplished in the brief space of thirty-two days. The MS. was then despatched to Lionardo Bruni, who received it with ecstatic welcome, as appears from this congratulatory epistle addressed to Poggio : — ' The repubUc of letters has reason to rejoice not only in b2 100 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY the works you have discovered, but also in those you have still to find. What a glory for you it is to have brought to light by your exertions the writings of the most distinguished authors! Posterity wiU not forget that MSS. which were bewailed as lost beyond the possibUity of restoration, have been recovered, thanks to you. As Camillus was called the second founder of Eome, so may you receive the title of the second author of the works you have restored to the world. Through you we now possess QuintiUan entire ; before we only boasted of the half of him, and that defective and corrupt in text. 0 precious acquisition ! 0 unexpected joy ! And shall I, then, in truth be able to read the whole of that QuintiUan which, mutilated and deformed as it has hitherto appeared, has formed my solace ? I conjure you send it me at once, that at least I may set eyes on it before I die.' In addition to the authors named above, Poggio discovered and copied with his own hand MSS. of Lucretius and Colu mella. SiUus Italicus, ManiUus, and Vitruvius owed their resurrection to his industry. At Langres he found a copy of Cicero's oration for Cascina ; at Monte Cassino a MS. of Frontinus. Ammianus Marcellinus, Nonius MarceUus, Pro- bus, Flavius Caper, and Eutyches are also to be ranked among the captives freed by him from slavery. In exploring foreign convents where he suspected that ancient authors might he buried, he spared neither trouble nor expense. ' No severity of winter cold, no snow, no length of journey, no roughness of roads, prevented him from bringing the monuments of litera ture to Ught,' wrote Francesco Barbaro.1 Nor did he recoil from theft, if theft seemed necessary to secure a precious codex. In a letter to Ambrogio Traversari he relates his negotiations with a monk for the fraudulent abduction of an Ammianus and a Livy from .a convent Ubrary in Hersfeld.2 ¦ Mur. xx. 169. Cf. the Elegy of Landino quoted in the notes to Boscoe's Lorenzo, p. 388. 2 Voigt, p. 138. PASSION FOR COLLECTING 101 Not unfrequently his most golden anticipations with regard to literary treasures were deceived, as when a Dane appeared at the Court of Martin V. bragging of a complete Livy to be found in a Cistercian convent near EoskUde. This man pro tested he had seen the MS., and described the characters in which it was written with some minuteness. At Poggio's instance the Cardinal Orsini sent off a special messenger to seek for this, which would have been the very phoenix of MSS. to the Latinists of that period, whUe Cosimo de' Medici put his agents at Lubeck to work for the same purpose. All their efforts were in vain, however. The Livy could not be discovered, and the Dane passed for a liar, in spite of the corroboration his story received from another traveller.1 Poggio himself, who would wUlingly have ransacked Europe for a MS., was jealous of money spent on any other object. In his treatise ' De InfeUeitate Principum ' he complains that ' these exalted personages [popes and princes] spend their days and their wealth in pleasure, in unworthy pursuits, in pesti ferous and destructive wars. So great is their mental torpor that nothing can rouse them to search after the works of ex ceUent writers, by whose wisdom and learning mankind are taught the way to true happiness.' This lamentation, written probably under the unfavourable impression produced upon his mind by the Papal Court, where as yet the spirit of humanism had hardly penetrated, must not be taken in any strict sense. Never was there a time in the world's history when money was spent more freely upon the collection and preservation of MSS., and when a more complete machinery was put in motion for the sake of securing literary treasures. Prince vied with prince, and eminent burgher with burgher, in buying books. The commercial correspondents of the Medici and other great Florentine houses, whose banks anct discount offices extended over Europe and the Levant, were 1 See Voigt, p. 139, for this story. 102 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY instructed to purchase relics of antiquity without regard for cost, and to forward them to Florence. The most acceptable present that could be sent to a king was a copy of a Eoman historian. The best credentials which a young Greek arriving from Byzantium could use to gain the patronage of men Uke PaUa degli Strozzi was a fragment of some ancient ; the merchandise ensuring the largest profit to a speculator who had special knowledge in such matters was old parchment covered with crabbed characters. The history of the foundation of Ubraries will form part of the next chapter. For the present it is requisite to mention some of Poggio's fellow-workmen in the labour of coUection. Among these a certain Nicholas of Treves, employed to receive monies due to the Papal Curia in Germany, deserves a place, seeing that in 1429 he sent the most complete extant copy of Plautus to Eome. Bartolommeo da Montepulciano, foUowing the lead of Poggio, pursued investigations while at Constance, and discovered the lost writings of Vegetius and Pompeius Festus. In 1409 Lionardo Bruni chanced upon a good MS. of Cicero's letters at Pistoja, and about the year 1425 a magnificent capture of Cicero's rhetorical treatises was made at Lodi in the Duomo by Gherardo Landriani. The extant works of Tacitus, so ardently desired, were not collected earUer than the reign of Leo. WhUe Poggio was releasing the Latin authors from their northern prisons, and sending them to walk Uke princes through the Courts and capitals of Italy, three other scholars devoted no less energy to the coUection of Greek MSS. Giovanni Aurispa, on his return from Byzantium in 1423, brought with him 238 codices, while Guarino of Verona and Francesco Filelfo both arrived in Italy heavUy laden. There is an old story that Guarino lost a part of his cargo at sea, and landed with hair whitened by the grief this misfortune cost him. Considering the special advantages enjoyed by GREEK MANUSCRIPTS 103 these three scholars, who were pupils of the learned Manuel Chrysoloras, and before whose eager curiosity the Ubraries of Byzantium remained open through nearly half a century pre vious to the faU of the Greek Empire, we have good reason to beheve that the greater part of Attic and Alexandrian Uterature known to the later Greeks was transferred to Italy. The avidity shown by the Florentines for codices and copies, the opportunities afforded by their mercantile connection with Constantinople, and the obvious interest which the Court of Byzantium at that crisis had in gratifying their taste for such acquisitions, contribute to render it urdikely that any of the more important and iUustrious authors were destroyed in the taking of the city by the Turk.1 It is probable that causes similar to those which slowly wrought the ruin of Latin Uterature in the West — the apathy of an uncultured public, the rancorous animosity of a superstitious clergy, and the decay of students as a class — had long before the age of the Eenaissance ruined beyond the possibility of recovery those masterpieces whereof we stiU deplore the loss.2 The pre servation of Neoplatonic and Patristic literature in comparar tive completeness, whUe so much that was more valuable perished, may be ascribed to the theological content of these writings. 1 See the emphatic language about Palla degli Strozzi, Cosimo de' Medici, and Niccolo de' Niccoli, in Vespasiano's Lives. Islam, more over, as is proved by Pletho's Life, was at that period more erudite than Hellas. 2 I have touched upon this subject elsewhere. See Studies of Greek Poets, second series, pp. 304-307. In order to form a conception of the utter decline of Byzantine learning after Photius, it is needful to read the passages in Petrarch's letters, where even Calabria is compared favourably with Constantinople. In a state of ignorance so absolute as he describes, it is possible that treasures existed unknown to professed students, and therefore undiscovered by Filelfo and his fellow-workers. The testimony of Demetrius Chalcondylas, quoted by Didot, A Ide Manuce. p. xiv., goes to show that the Greeks attributed their losses in large measure to the malice of the priests. 104 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY Not to render some account of the effect produced upon the minds of scholars in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries by the sight of Eoman ruins in decay, would be to omit an important branch of the subject I have undertaken. Yet this part of the inquiry leads us into a region somewhat different from that hitherto traversed in the present chapter, since it properly belongs to the history of enthusiasm. No smaU portion of the motive impulse that determined the Eevival was derived from the admiration, curiosity, and awe excited by the very stones of ancient Eome. During the Middle Ages the right point of view for studying the archi tectural works of the Eomans had been lost. History yielded ever more and more to legend, until at last it was beUeved that demons and magicians had suspended those gigantic vaults in air. Telesmatic virtues were attributed to figures carved on temple-fronts and friezes, while the great name of Virgil attached itself to what remained unhurt of Latin art in Eome and Naples.1 The Eome of the MirabiUa was supposed to be the handiwork of fiends constrained by poets of the bygone age with spells of power to move heU from its centre. This transference of interest from the real to the fanciful, from the substantial to the visionary, was character istic of the whole attitude assumed by the mind in the Middle Ages. History, literature, and art aUke submitted to the alchemy of the imagination.2 At the same time the very grossness of these fables testified to the profound impression produced by the ruins of the Eternal City, and to the haunting magic of a memory surviving degradation and decay. When the Anglo-Saxon pilgrims returned from Eome in the eighth century, the fascination of the great works they had seen 1 The details of Virgil's romance occupy the first half of Comparetti's second volume on Virgil in the Middle Ages. For the English version of this legend see Thorns. * See above, pp. 38-49. THE RUINS OF ROME 10« expressed itself in a memorable prophecy.1 ' As long as the Coliseum stands, Eome shaU stand ; when the Coliseum faUs, Eome will faU ; when Eome faUs, the world will fall.' About the year 1300 a new historic sense appears to have arisen in Italy. Instead of dreams and legends, the positive facts of the past began to have once more their value. This change might be compared to the discovery we make upon the borderland of sleep and waking, when what we fancied was a figure draped in white by our bedside turns out to be the wall with moonhght shining on it. Giovanni ViUani, when he gazed upon the baths and amphitheatres of Eome, was not moved to think of the fiends who raised them, but of the buried grandeur of the Eoman commonwealth.2 What Eome once was, Florence may one day become, was the reflection that impeUed him to write the chronicle of his native town. Dante, who with ViUani witnessed the Jubilee of 1300, cried that the very stones of Eome were sacred. 'Whoso robs her, or despoUs her, with blasphemy of act offendeth God, who- only for His own use made her holy.' 3 The city was to him the outward symbol and terrestrial station of that God-appointed Monarchy for ruling all the peoples of the earth in peace. His most enthusiastic specula tions, as weU as the practical pohcy set forth in his epistles, attached themselves to Eome as a reahty ; nor did he ever tire of bidding German emperors return and fix their throne upon the bank of Tiber. We know now that this idealism was a delusion, no less incapable of realisation than it was pernicious to the hberties of the Italians. It haunted the imagination of the race, however, untU at last, as I have said above, the proper vent was found in humanism. The same passion for Eome took different form in the mind of another and less noble patriot. It impelled Eienzi ' Gibbon, ch. Ixsi. J Vol. I., Age of the Despots, p. 200. • Purg. xxxiii. 58. 166 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY to conceive the plan of rehabilitating the EepubUc. The Popes were far away at Avignon. The emperors seemed to have forgotten Italy. Yet Eome remained, and the mere name of Eome was Empire. Why should not the Senatus Populusque Romanus, whose initials stiU survived in uncial letters upon blocks of travertine and marble, be restored to place and power ? Wandering among those spacious vaults, and lingering beneath the triumphal arches, where the marks of chariot-wheels were traced upon the massive paved work of the Eoman ways, the young enthusiast conceived that even he might live to be the Tribune of that people, born invincible, and caUed by destiny to rule the world. With what energy he devoted himself to studying the histories of Livy, SaUust, and Valerius Maximus ; how he strove to master the mean ing of inscriptions found among the wrecks of Eome ; with what eloquence he moved his feUow-citizens to sympathy — are familiar matters not only to scholars, but to readers of romance. His vision of the restored Eepublic seemed for a moment destined to become reaUty. The Eomans placed the power of hfe and death, of revenues and armies, in the hands of the seer, who had stirred them by his rhetoric. Rienzi took rank among the potentates of Italy. Even the Papal Court acknowledged him. What foUowed proved the poUtical incapacity of the new dictator, his want of critical insight into the ideal he had set before himself. There is something both pathetic and ridicu- lous in the vanity displayed by this barber's son exalted to -a place among the princes. Not satisfied with calling himself Tribune and Knight, the style he affected in his correspondence with Clement VI. ran as follows : — ' Candidatus, Spiritus Sancti Miles, Nicolaus Severus et Clemens, Liberator Urbis, Zelator ItaUas, Amator Orbis, et Tribunus Augustus.' Like Icarus, he spread these waxen wings to the sun's noontide blaze. The same extravagant confusion of things sacred and PETRARCH AND ElEN2l 107 profane, classical and mediaeval, marked the pageantry of his State ceremonials in Eome. On August 15, 1347, in celebra tion of his election to the Tribunate, he assumed six crowns — of ivy, myrtle, laurel, oak, olive, and gUt silver. His arms were blazoned with the keys of Peter and the letters S.P.Q.E. His senatorial sceptre was surmounted, not with the eagle or the wolf of Eomulus, but with a golden baU and cross enclosing the reUc of a saint. The poetic fancy could not have suggested a more striking aUegory to illustrate an undlscriminating reverence for the Imperial and Pontifical prestige of Eome, than was presented in this tragic farce of actual history. Not in this way, by a mixture of Christian and Pagan titles, by emblematic pomp, by heraldry and decla mation, could the old EepubUc be brought to life again. The very attempt to do so proved how far the mind of man, awaking from the long sleep of the Middle Ages, was removed from the severe simplicity that gave its strength to ancient Eome. Along those giddy parapets of fame we watch Eienzi walking through his months of glory like a somnambule sustained by an internal dream. That he should fall was inevitable. With him expired the Utopia of a Eoman commonwealth, to be from time, to time revived as an ineffectual fancy in the brains of a few visionaries.1 The relations of Petrarch to Eienzi offer matter for curious reflection, whUe they iUustrate the part played by the enthu siasm for ancient Eome in the early history of humanism. Petrarch and Eienzi had been friends and correspondents before the emergence of the latter into pubhc notice ; and when the Tribune seemed about to satisfy the dearest desire of the poet's heart by re-establishing the Eoman common wealth, Petrarch addressed him with an animated letter of congratulation and encouragement.* In his charmed eyes he 1 Stefano Porcari, for example. See Vol. I., Age of the Despots, pr 296, 302. 2 De Capessendd Libertate, Hortatoria, p. 535. 108 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY seemed a hero, vir magnanimus, worthy of the ancient world, a new Eomulus, a third Brutus, a Camillus. The Eoman burghers, that scum and sediment of countless races, bar- barised by the lingering miseries of the Middle Ages, needed nothing, it appeared, but words and wishes to make them once again cives Romani, no longer clamorous for bread and games, but ready to reconquer aU their ancestors had lost.1 ' Where,' cried Petrarch, • can the empire of the world be found, except in Eome ? Who can dispute the Eoman right ? What force can stand against the name of Eomans?' Neither the patriot nor the scholar discerned that the revival they were destined to inaugurate was intellectual. Though the spirit of the times refused a political Eenaissance, refused to Italy the maintenance of even such freedom as she then possessed, far more refused a resuscitation of ancient Eome's imperial sway, yet both Eienzi and Petrarch persisted in believing that, because they glowed with fervour for the past, because they could read inscriptions, because they expressed their desires eloquently, the world's great age was certain to begin anew. It was a capital fault of the Eenaissance to imagine that words could work wonders, that a rhetorician's stylus might become the wand of Prospero. Seeming passed for being in morals, politics, and aU affairs of Ufe. I have already touched on this as a capital defect in Petrarch's character ; but it was a weakness inherent not only in him and in the age he inaugurated, but one, moreover, that has influenced the whole history of the Italians for evil. Sounding phrases Uke the barbaros expellere of Julius II. , like the va fuori d' Italia of Garibaldian hymns, from time to time have roused the nation to feverish enthusiasm, too soon suc ceeded by dejected apathy. When the inefficiency of Eienzi was proved, all that remained for Petrareh was to warn and scold. 1 See Petrarch's Epistle to the Roman People, p. 712. PETRARCH IN ROME 109 The interest excited in Petrarch by the sight of Eome's ruins was important for his humanistic ideal. They stirred him as a moralist, an antiquarian, and a man who owed his mental vigour to the past. He tells how often he used to climb above the huge vaults of the Baths of Diocletian in com pany with his friend Giovanni Colonna.1 Seated there among the flowering shrubs and scented herbs that clothed decay with loveliness, they held discourse concerning the great men of old, and deplored the mutability of aU things human. Whatever the poet had read of Eoman grandeur was brought back to his mind with vivid meaning during his long sohtary walks. He never doubted that he knew for certain where Evander's palace stood, and where the cave of Cacus opened on the Tiber. The difficulties of modern antiquarian research had not been yet suggested, and his fancy was free to map out the topography of the seven hills as pleased him best. Yet he complained that nowhere was less known about Eome than in Rome itseU.2 This ignorance he judged the most fatal obstacle to the resurrection of the city.3 The palaces where dwelt those heroes of the past, had faUen into ruins ; the temples of the gods were desecrated ; the triumphal arches were crumbling ; the very waUs had yielded to decay. None of the Eomans cared to arrest destruction ; they even robbed the marble columns and entablatures in order to deck Naples with the spoils.4 The last remnants of the city would soon, 1 Epist. Fam. lib. ii. 14, p. 605 ; lib. vi. 2, p. 657. 2 ' Qui enim hodie magis ignari rerum Romanarum sunt, quam Eomani Cives ? Invitus dico, nusquam minus Boma cognoscitur quam Eomie.' Epist. Fam. lib. ii. 14, p. 658. 3 ' Quis enim dubitare potest, quin illico surrectura sit si coeperit se Eoma eognoscere ? ' Ibid. 4 ' Vi vel senio collapsa palatia, qua quondam ingentes tenuere viri, diruptos arcus triumphales . . . indignum de vestris marmoreis colum- nis, de liminibus templorum, ad quae nuper ex toto orbe concursus devo- tissimus fiebat, de imaginibus sepulchrorum, sub quibus patrum ves- trorum venerabilis cinis erat, ut reliquas sileam, desidiosa Neapolis adornatur.' Ibid. p. 536. UO RENAISSANCE IN ITALY he exclaimed, be leveUed with the ground. Time has been unable to destroy them ; but man was ruining what Time had spared.1 There is no doubt that, shortly before the date of Petrarch's visits to Eome, the city had suffered grievously in its monu ments. We know, for instance, that the best preserved of the theatres, baths, and tombs formed the residences and fortresses of nobles in the Middle Ages ; and when we read that in 1258 the senator Brancaleone found it necessary to destroy one hundred and forty of these fortified dwellings, we obtain a standard for measuring the injury that must have ensued to precious works of classic architecture. The ruins, moreover, as Petrarch hinted, had been used as quarries. What was worse, the burghers burned the marbles, rich, perhaps, with inscrip tions and carved bas-reliefs, for Ume. We shall shortly see what Poggio relates upon this topic. For the present it wUl suffice to quote an epigram of Pius H., written some time after the revival of enthusiasm for antiquity : — Oblectat me, Roma, tuas spectare ruinas. Ex cujus lapsu gloria prisca patet. Sed tuus hic populus muris d'efossa vetustis Calcis in obsequium marmora dura coquit. Impia ter centum si sic gens egerit annos, Nullum hic indicium nobilitatis erit.2 ¦ ' Quanta quod integrae fuit olim gloria Romas, Reliquiae testantur adhuc, quas longior aatas Frangere non valuit, non vis, aut ira cruenti Hostis, ab egregiis franguntur civibus heu, heu.' Petr. Epist. Metr. lib. ii. p. 98. * ' It delights me to contemplate thy ruins, Eome, the witness amid desolation to thy pristine grandeur. But thy people burn thy marbles for lime, and three centuries of this sacrilege will destroy all sign of thy nobleness.' Compare a letter from Alberto degli Alberti to Giovanni de' Medici, quoted by Fabroni, Cosmi Vita, Adnot. 86. The real pride of Eome was still her ruins. Nicole and Ugo da Este journeyed in 1396 to Eome, ' per vedere queUe magnificenze antiche ohe al presente si possono vedere in Eoma.' Murat. xxiv. 845. POGGIO ON THE EUINS OF EOME 111 Poggio Bracciolini opens a new epoch in Eoman topo graphy. The ruins that had moved the superstitious wondei of the Middle Ages, that had excited Eienzi to patriotic enthu siasm, and Petrarch to reflections on the instabiUty of human things, were now for the first time studied in a truly anti quarian spirit. Poggio read them like a book, comparing the testimony they rendered with that of Livy, Vitruvius, and Frontinus, and seeking to compile a catalogue of the existing fragments of old Eome. The first section of his treatise 'De VarietateFortunaa,' forms by far the mostimportant source of information we possess relating to the state of Eome in the fifteenth century.1 It appears that the Baths of Caracalla and Diocletian could still boast of columns and marble incrus tations, but that within Poggio's own recollection the marbles had been stripped from Caeciha Metella's tomb, and the so- caUed Temple of Concord had been pUlaged.2 Among the ruins ascribed to the period of the EepubUc are mentioned a bridge, an arch, a tomb, a temple, a buUding on the Capitol, and the pyramid of Cestius.3 Besides these, Poggio enume rates, as referable chiefly to the Imperial age, eleven temples, seven thermce, the Arches of Titus, Severus, and Constantine, parts of the Arches of Trajan, Faustina, and GaUienus, the Cohseum, the Theatres of Pompey and MarceUus, the Circus Agonahs and Circus Maximus, the Columns of Trajan and Antonine, the two horses ascribed to Pheidias and Praxiteles. 1 My references are made to the Paris edition of 1723. The first book is sometimes cited under the title of Urbis Romee Descriptio. 2 ' Juxta viam Appiam, ad secundum lapidem, integrum vidi sepul chrum L. Cseciliaa Metellse, opus egregium, et id ipsum tot sfficulis in- tactum, ad calcem postea majori ex parte exterminatum ' (p. 19). 'Capitolio contigua forum versus superest porticus aedis Concordias, quam, cum primum ad urbem accessi, vidi fere integram, opere mar- moreo admodum specioso ; Eomani postmodum, ad calcem sedem totam et porticus partem, disjectis columnis, sunt demoliti.' Ibid. 5 Pp. 8. 9. 112 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY together with other marble statues, one bronze equestrian statue, and the mausoleums of Augustus and Hadrian. We have to regret that Poggio's description was subser vient and introductory to a rhetorical dissertation. Had he apphed himself to the task of tabulating more minutely what he had observed, his work would have been infinitely precious to the archaeologist. No one knew more about the Eoman buildings than he did. No one felt the impression of their majesty in desolation more profoundly. The mighty city appeared to him, he said, like the corpse of a giant, like a queen in slavery. The sight of her magnificence, despoUed and shorn of ornaments as she had been, moved him daUy to deeper admiration. It was his custom to lead strangers from point to point among the ruins, in order to enjoy the effect produced upon fresh minds by their stupendous evidence of strength and greatness in decay. The pathos of this former empress of the world exposed to insult and indignity had not been first felt by Poggio. Petrarch described her as an aged matron with grey hair and pale cheeks, whose torn and sordid raiment iU accorded with the nobleness of her demeanour.1 Fazio degli Uberti personi fied her as a majestic woman, wrapped around with rags, who pointed out to him the ruins of her city, ' to the end that he might understand how fair she was in years of old.' 2 In this way a sentimental feehng for the rehcs of the past grew up and flourished side by side with the archaeo logical interest they excited. The literature of the Eenaissance abounds in matter that might be used in iUustration of this remark,3 while nothing was commoner in art than to paint for backgrounds broken arches and decayed buildings, 'whose 1 De PacificanM Italid, Ad Carolum Quartum, p. 531. * In the Dittamondo, about 1360. • Such, for example, as Boccaccio's description of the ruins of Baite in the Fiammetta, Sannazzaro's lines on the ruins of Cumaa, tineas Sylvius Picoolomini's notes on ancient sites in Italy. CIEIAC OF ANCONA 113 ruins are even pitied.' The double impulse of romantic sentiment and antiquarian curiosity, set going in this age of the Eevival, contributed no Uttle to the development of architecture, sculpture, and painting. In the section of my work which deals with the fine arts in Italy wiU be found the proper sequel to this subject. Meanwhile the history of antiquarian research in Eome itself wiU be resumed in an • other chapter of this volume. Among the representative men of the first period of the Eevival must be mentioned an enthusiast who devoted his whole life to topographical studies and to the copying of classical inscriptions. Ciriaco de' PizzicoUi was born about 1404 at Ancona, and from this town he took the name he bears among the learned. Like many other pioneers of erudition, he was educated for commerce, and had slender opportunities for acquiring the dead languages in his youth. His manhood was spent in restless journeying, at first under taken for the purposes of trade, but afterwards for the sole object of discovery. Smitten with the zeal for classical antiquity, he made himself a tolerable Latin scholar, and gained a fair knowledge of Greek. In the course of his long wanderings he ransacked every part of Italy, Greece, and the Greek islands, collecting medals, gems, and fragments of sculpture, buying manuscripts, transcribing records, and amassing a miscellaneous store of archaeological information. The enthusiasm that possessed him was so untempered by sobriety that it excited the suspicion of contemporaries. Some regarded him as a man of genuine learning ; others spoke of him as a flighty, boastful, and untrustworthy fanatic.' 1 Filippo Maria Visconti is said to have denounced him as an im postor. Ambrogio Traversari mentions his coins and gems with mis trust. Poggio describes him as a conceited fellow with no claim to erudition. On the other hand, he gained the confidence of Eugenius IV., and received the panegyrics of Filelfo, Barbaro, Bruni, and others Sec Tiraboschi, vol. vi. lib. i. cap. 5. II I 114 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY The mistakes he made in copying inscriptions depreciated the general value of his labours, whUe he was even accused of having passed off fabrications on the credulity of the public. The question of his alleged forgeries has been discussed at length by Tiraboschi.1 To settle it at this distance of time is both unimportant and impossible. WhUe we may well believe that Ciriac was a conceited enthusiast, accepting as genuine what he ought to have rejected, and interpreting according to his fancy rather than the letter of his text, his life retains real value for the student of the Eevival. In him the curiosity of the new age reached its acme of expansiveness, The passion for discovery pursued him from shore to shore, and the vision of the past, to be reconquered by the energy of the present, haunted his imagination tiU the moment of his death. When asked what object he had set his heart upon in those perpetual journeyings, he answered, ' I go to awake the dead.' That word, the motto for the first age of the Eevival, explains the fanaticism of Ciriac, and is a sufficient title to fame. 1 In the place just cited. The temptation, at this epoch of discovery, when criticism was at a low ebb, and curiosity was frantic, to pass off forgeries upon the learned world must have been very great. The most curious example of this literary deception is afforded by Annius of Viterbo, who, in 1498, published seventeen books of spurious histories, pretending to be the lost works of Manetho, Berosus, Fabius Pictor, Archilochus, Cato, &c. Whether he was himself an impostor or a dupe is doubtful. A few of his contemporaries denounced the histories as patent fabrications. The majority accepted them as genuine. Their worthlessness has long been undisputed. See Tiraboschi, vol. vi. lib, iii. cap. 1. 115 CHAPTEE IV BEOOND PEEIOD OF HUMANISM Intricacy of the Subject — Division into Four Periods — Place of Florenoe — Social Conditions favourable to Culture — Palla degli Strozzi — His Encouragement of Greek Studies — Plan of a Pubhc Library — His Exile — Cosimo de' Medici — His Patronage of Learning — Political Character — Love of Building — Generosity to Students — Foundation of Libraries — Vespasiano and Thomas of Sarzana — Niccolo de' Niccoli — His Collection of Codices — Description of his Mode of Life — His Fame as a Latinist — Lionardo Bruni — His Biography — Translations from the Greek — Latin Treatises and Histories — His Burial in Santa Croce — Carlo Aretino — Fame as a Lecturer — The Florentine Chancery — Matteo Palmieri — Giannozzo Manetti — His Hebrew Studies — His Public Career — His Eloquence — Manetti ruined by the Medici — His Life in Exile at Naples — Estimate of his Talents — Ambrogio Traversari — Study of Greek Fathers — General of the Camaldolese Order— Humanism and Monasticism — The Council of Florence — Florentine Opinion about the Greeks — Gemistus Pletho — His Life — His Philosophy — His Influence at Florence — Cosimo de' Medici and the Florentine Academy — Study of Plato— Pletho's Writings — Platonists and Aristotelians in Italy and Greece — Bessarion —His Patronage of Greek Eefugees in Eome — Humanism in the Smaller Bepublics — In Venice. The great difficulty with which a critic desirous of rendering a succinct account of this phase of Italian culture has to deal, is the variety and complexity of the subject. It is easy to perceive the unity of the humanistic movement, and to regard the scholars of the fifteenth century as a Uterary community with weU-defined relations to each other. Yet when we attempt to trace the growth of scholarship in aU its branches, the peculiar conditions of poUtical and social Ufe in Italy present almost insuperable obstacles to any continuity of treatment. The republics, the principalities, and the Church i2 116 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY have each their separate existence. Venice, Florence, Naples, Milan, Eome, Ferrara, form distinct and independent centres, imposing their own speciaUties upon the intellectual activity of citizens and aliens. The humanists, meanwhUe, to some extent efface these local differences, spreading a network of common culture over cities and societies divided by aU else but interest in learning. To these combinations and permu tations, arising from the contact of the scholars with their patrons in the several States of Italy, is due the intricacy of the history of the Eevival. The same men of eminence appear by turns in each of the chief Courts and commonwealths, passing with bewUdering rapidity from north to south and back again, in one place demanding attention under one head of the sub ject, in another presenting new yet not less important topics for investigation. What Filippo Maria Visconti, for instance, required from Filelfo had but httle in common with the claims made on him by Nicholas V., while his activity as a satirist and partisan at Florence differed from his labour as a lecturer at Siena. Again, the biography of each humanist to some extent involves that of all his contemporaries. The coteries of Eome are influenced by the cliques of Naples' ; the quarrels of Lorenzo VaUa ramify into the squabbles of Guarino; political animosity combines with Uterary jealousy in the disputes of Poggio with Filelfo. While some of the most emi nent professors remain stationary in their native or adopted towns, others move to and fro with the speed of comets. From time to time, at Eome or elsewhere, a patron rises, who assembles all the wandering stars around himself. His death disperses the group ; or accidents rouse jealousy among them, and cause secessions from the circle. Then fresh combina tions have to be considered. In no one city can we trace firm chronological progression, or discover the fixed local character which justifies our dividing the history of Italian painting by its schools. To avoid repetition, and to preserve an even FOUE PEEIODS UT ourrent of narration amid so much that is shifting, is almost impossible. Some method may be introduced by sketching briefly at the outset the principal periods through which the humanistic movement passed. Though to a certain extent arbitrary, these periods mark distinct moments in an evolution uniform in spite of its complexity. The first, starting with Petrarch, and including the lives and labours of those men he personaUy influenced, has been traced in a preceding chapter. This was the age of inspiration and discovery, when the enthusiasm for antiquity was gener ated and the remnants of the classics were accumulated. The second may be described as the age of arrangement and trans lation. The first great hbraries were founded in this period ; the study of Greek was pursued in earnest, and the Greek authors were rendered into Latin. Bound Cosimo de' Medici at Florence, AUonso the Magnanimous at Naples, and Nicho las V. in Eome the leaders of the Eenaissance at this time converge. The third is the age of academies. The literary repubUc, formed during the first and second periods, now gathers into coteries, whereof the Platonic Academy at Flo rence, that of Pontanus at Naples, that of Pomponius Laetus in Eome, and that of Aldus Manutius at Venice are the most important. Scholarship begins to exhibit a marked improve ment in aU that concerns style and taste. At the same time ItaUan erudition reaches its maximum in PoUziano. Exter nally this third period is distinguished by the rapid spread of printing and the consequent downfall of the humanists as a class. In the fourth period we notice a gradual decline of learning ; BBsthetic and styhstic scholarship begins to claim exclusive attention. This is the age of the purists, over whom Bembo exercises the sway of a dictator, whUe the Court of Leo X. furnishes the most briUiant assemblage of literati in Europe. Erudition, properly so called, is now upon the point 118 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY of being transplanted beyond the Alps, and the Eeviva of Learning closes for the historian of Italy. Although the essential feature of this subject is variety, and though each city of Italy contributed its quota to the sum of culture, attention has now to be directed in a special sense on Florence. Nothing is more obvious to the student who has mastered the first difficulties caused by the intricacy of ItaUan history, than the fact that all the mental force of the nation was generated in Tuscany, and radiated thence, as from a centre of vital heat and Ught, over the rest of the peninsula. This is true of the fine arts no less than of Itahan poetry, of the revival of learning as well as of the origin of science. From the repubUcs of Tuscany, and from Florence in particular, proceeded the impulse and the energy which led to fruitful results in aU of these departments. In proportion as Florence continued to absorb the neighbouring free States into herself, her mteUectual pre-eminence became the more unquestionable. Arezzo, Volterra, Cortona, Montepulciano, Prato, and Pistoja were but rivulets feeding the stream of Florentine industry. What caused this superiority of the Tuscans is a problem as difficult to solve as the similar problem with respect to Athens among the states of Greece. Something may no doubt be attributed to ethnology, and something to chmate. Much, again, was due to the purity of a dialect which retained more of native energy and literary capacity, and which had suffered less from barbarian admixtures than the dialects of northern or of southern Italy. The conquest of the Lombards passed the Tuscans by, nor did feudal institutions take the same root in the valley of the Arno which they struck in the kingdom of Naples. The cities of Tuscany were therefore less exposed to foreign influences than the rest of Italy. While they pursued their course of internal growth in com parative traiiquilUty, they were better fitted for reviving the FLORENCE 119 past glories of Latin civihsation upon its native soil. The free institutions of the Florentine commonwealth must also be taken into account. In Florence, U anywhere in Italy, existed the conditions under which a repubhc of letters and of culture could be formed. The aristocracy of Naples indulged the semi-savage tastes of territorial seigneurs ; the nobles of Eome dehghted in feats of arms and shared their wealth with retinues of bravi ; the great families of Umbria, Eomagna, and the March fol lowed the profession of condottieri ; the Lombards were down trodden by their Despots and deprived of individual freedom ; the Genoese developed into Uttle better than traders and sea- robbers ; the Sienese, divided by the factions of their Monti, had small leisure or common public feeling left for study. Florence meanwhile could boast a population of burghers noble by taste and culture, owing less to ancestry than to personal eminence, devoting their energies to civic ambition worthy of the Eomans, and to mental activity which reminds us of the ancient Greeks. Between the people and this aris tocracy of wealth and intellect there was at Florence no division hke that which separated the Venetian gentiluomini from the cittadini. The so-caUed nobili and popolani did not, as in Venice, form a caste apart, bound to the service of a tyrannous state-system. The very mobility which proved the ultimate source of disruption and of ruin to the commonwealth, aided the inteUectual development of Florence. Stagnation and oppression were aUke unknown. Here, therefore, and here alone, was created a public capable instinctively of com prehending what is beautiful in art and humane in letters, a race of craftsmen and of scholars who knew that their labours could not faU to be appreciated, and a class of patrons who sought no better bestowal of their wealth than on those arts and sciences which dignify the life of man. The Florentines, moreover, as a nation, were animated with the strongest sense 120 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY of the greatness and the splendour of Florence. Like the Athenians of old, they had no warmer passion than their love for their city. However much we may deplore the rancorous dissensions which from tune to time spUt up the common wealth into parties, the remorseless foreign policy which destroyed Pisa, the pohtical meanness of the Medici, and the base egotism of the ottimati, the fact remains that, asstheti- cally and intellectually, Florence was ' a city glorious,' a realised ideal of culture and humanity for aU the rest of Italy, and, through Italian influence in general, for modern Europe and for us. What makes the part played by Florence in the history of learning the more remarkable is, that the chiefs of the poUtical factions were at the same time the leaders of intellectual pro gress. Einaldo degli Albizzi and Cosimo de' Medici, while opposed as antagonists in a duel to the death upon the stage of the republic, vied with each other in the patronage they extended to men of letters. Einaldo was himself no mean scholar ; and he chose one of the greatest men of the age, Tommaso da Sarzana, to be tutor to his ehUdren. Of PaUa degU Strozzi's services in the cause of Greek learning I have already spoken in the second chapter of this volume. Beside the invitation which he caused to be sent to Manuel Chryso loras, he employed his wealth and influence in providing books necessary for the prosecution of Hellenic studies. 'Messer Palla,' says Vespasiano, ' sent to Greece for countless volumes, all at his own cost. The " Cosmography " of Ptolemy, together with the picture made to Ulustrateit, the " Lives " of Plutarch, the works of Plato, and very many other writings of phUoso- phers, he got from Constantinople. The " Pohtics" of Aristotle were not in Italy until Messer Palla sent for them ; and when Messer Lionardo of Arezzo translated them, he had the copy from his hands.' ' In the same spirit of practical generosity ' Vespasiano, p. 272, MESSEE PALLA'S EXILE 121 Palla degli Strozzi devoted his leisure and his energies to the improvement of the studio pubblico at Florence, giving it that character of humane culture which it retained throughout the age of the Eenaissance.1 To him, again, belongs the glory of having first coUected books for the express purpose of found ing a pubhc Ubrary. This project had occupied the mind of Petrarch, and its utUity had been recognised by Coluccio de' Salutati,2 but no one had as yet arisen to accomplish it. ' Being passionately fond of Uterature, Messer Palla always kept copyists in his own house and outside it, of the best who were hi Florence, both for Greek and Latin books ; and all the books he could find he purchased, on aU subjects, being minded to found a most noble hbrary in Santa Trinita, and to erect there a most beautiful building for the purpose. He wished that it should be open to the pubhc, and he chose Santa Trinity because it was in the centre of Florence, a site of great convenience to everybody. His disasters supervened, and what he had designed he could not execute.' 3 The calamities aUuded to by Vespasiano may be briefly told. PaUa degU Strozzi, better fitted by nature for study than for party warfare, was one of the richest of the merchant princes of Florence. In the catasto of 1427 his property was valued at one-fifth more than that returned by Giovanni, then che chief of the Medicean famUy ; and the extraordinary tax (gravezza) imposed upon it reached the sum of 800 florins.4 During the conflict for power carried on between the Albizzi and the Medici he strove to preserve a neutral attitude ; but after Cosimo's return from exile, in 1434, the presence of so powerful and rich a leader in the State seemed dangerous to the Medicean party. It was their pohcy to annihUate all greatness but their own, and to reduce the Florentines to slavery by creating a body of dependents and allies whose 1 Vespasiano, p. 273. ' See Voigt, p. 202. « Vespasiano, p. 275. « Ibid. p. 276. 122 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY interests should be bound up with their own supremacy.1 Palla degli Strozzi was accordingly banished to Padua for ten years, nor, at the expiration of this period, was he suffered to return to Florence. He died in exile, separated from his children, who shared the same fate in other parts of Italy, while Florence lost the services of the most enlightened of her sons.2 Amid the many tribulations of his latter years Palla continued to derive comfort from study. John Argyropoulos was his guest at Padua, where the collection of books and the cultivation of Greek learning went on with no less vigour than at Florence. The work begun by PaUa degU Strozzi at Florence was ably continued by his enemy Cosimo de' Medici. Though the historian cannot respect this man, whose mean and selfish ambition undermined the hberties of his native city, there is no doubt that he deserves the credit of a prudent and munifi cent Maecenas. No Italian of his epoch combined zeal for learning and generosity in all that could advance the interests of arts and letters, more characteristicaUy, with pohtical cor ruption and cynical egotism. Early in life Cosimo entered his father's house of business, and developed a rare faculty for finance. This faculty he afterwards employed in the administration of the State, as well as in the augmentation of the riches of his famUy by trade. As he gained political importance, he made it his prime object to place out monies in the hands of needy citizens, and to involve the public affairs of Florence with his own commerce by means of loans and other expedients. He not only attached individuals by debts and obhgations to his person, but he also rendered it difficult to control the State expenditure without regard to his private bank. Few men have better understood the value ' See Von Eeumont, vol. i. pp. 147-153, for the cruel treatment ol the Albizzi and other leading oitizens. " See Vespasiano, pp. 283-287. COSIMO DE' MEDICI 123 of money in the acquisition of power, or the advantage of so using it that jealousy should not be roused by personal display. ' Envy,' he remarked, ' is a plant you must not water.' Accordingly, whUe he spent large sums on public works, he declined BruneUeschi's sumptuous project for a palace, on the score that such a dwelling was more fitted for a prince than a citizen. In his habits he was temperate and simple. Games of hazard he abhorred, and found his recreation in the company of learned men. Sometimes, but rarely, he played at chess. Contemporaries recorded how, hke an ancient Eoman, he rose early in the morning to prune his own pear trees and to plant his vines. In aU things he preferred the reality to the display of power and riches. WhUe wielding the supreme authority of Florence, he seemed intent upon the duU work of the counting-house. Other men were put forward in the execution of designs that he had planned ; and this pohcy of ruUng the State by cat's-paws was foUowed so consistently, that at the end of his Ufe his- influence was threatened by the very instruments he had created. At the same time he exercised -virtual despotism with a pitUess tenacity unsurpassed by the Visconti. The cruelty with which he pushed the Albizzi to their ruin, pro longed the exUe of PaUa degU Strozzi, reduced Giannozzo Manetti to beggary, and oppressed his rivals in general with forced loans — using taxation like a poignard, to quote a phrase from Guicciardini — is enough to show that only prudence caused him to refrain from violence.1 A cold and calculating policy, far-sighted, covert, and secretive, governed aU the measures he took for fastening his famUy on Florence. The result was that the roots of the Medici, whUe they seemed to take hold slowly, struck deep ; you might fancy they were 1 Manetti's obligations to the commune were raised by arbitrary im positions to the enormous sum of 135,000 golden florins. He was broken in his trade and forced to live on charity in exile. 124 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY nowhere, just because they had left no part unpenetratei The EepubUc, Uke GulUver in Liliput, was tied down by a thousand threads, each almost imperceptible, but so varied in quality and so subtly interwoven that to escape from the net work was impossible. Much of the influence acquired by Cosimo, and transmitted to his descendants, was due to sympathy with the intellectual movement of the age. He had received a solid education ; and though he was not a Greek scholar, his mind was open to the interests which in the fifteenth century absorbed the Florentines. He collected manuscripts, gems, coins, and inscriptions, employing the resources of his banking house and engaging his commercial agents in this work. Painters and sculptors, no less than scholars and copyists, found in him a liberal patron. At the death of his son Piero the treasures of the Casa Medici, not counting plate and costly furniture, were valued at 30,000 golden florins.1 The sums of money spent by him in building were enormous. It was reckoned that, one year with another, he disbursed from 15,000 to 18,000 golden florins annually in edifices for the public use.2 Of these the most important were the Convent of S. Marco, which altogether cost about 70,000 florins ; S. Lorenzo, which cost another 40,000 ; and the Abbey of Fiesole. On his own palace he expended 60,000 florins, whUe the building of his viUas at Careggi and Cafaggiuolo impUed a further large expenditure. Not a shilling of this money was wasted ; for while Cosimo avoided the reproach of personal extravagance, he gave work to multitudes of labourers, who received their wages regularly every Saturday at his office. To this free use of wealth in the employment of artisans may be ascribed the popularity of the Medici with the lower classes, which was more than once so useful to them at a perUous turn of fortune. ' See Von Eeumont, vol. ii. p. 176. s Vespasiano, p. 257. MONEY SPENT IN BUILDING 12« Comprehending the conditions under which tyranny might be successfuUy practised in the fifteenth century, Cosimo attached great value to this generosity. He used, in later Ufe, to regret that ' he had not begun to spend money upon pubhc works ten years earlier than he did.' 1 Every costly buUding that bore his name, each library he opened to the pubUc, and all the donations lavished upon scholars served the double purpose of cementing the despotism of his house and of gratifying his personal enthusiasm for culture. Super stition mingled with these motives of the tyrant and the dUettante. Knowing that much of his wealth had been ill- gotten, he besought the Pope, Eugenius, to indicate a proper way of restitution. Eugenius advised him to spend 10,000 florins on the Convent of S. Marco. Thereupon Cosimo laid out considerably more than four times that sum, adding the famous Marcian Library, and treating the new foundation of the Osservanza, one of the Pope's favourite crotchets, with more than princely Uberality.2 Of his generosity to men of letters the most striking detaUs are recorded. When Niccolo de' Niccoli ruined him self by buying books, Cosimo opened for him an unlimited credit with the Medicean bank. The cashiers received orders to honour the old scholar's drafts ; and in this way Niccolo drew 500 ducats for his private needs.3 Tommaso Parentu- ceUi was treated with no less magnificence. As Bishop of Bologna, soon after his patron Albergati's death, he found himseK with very meagre revenues and no immediate pros pect of preferment. Yet the expenses of his station were con- 1 Vespasiano, p. 257. * Ibid. p. 252. Cosimo ordered his clerks to honour all drafts pre sented with the signature of one of the chief brethren of the convent. 4 Aveva ordinato al banco, che tutti i danari, che gli fussino tratti per polizza d' uno religioso de primi del convento, gli pagasse, e mettessegli a suo conto, e fussino che somma si volessino.' ' Vespasiano, pp. 264, 475. 126 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY siderable, and he had occasion to request a loan from the Medici. Cosimo issued a circular letter to his correspondents, engaging them to supply Tommaso with what sums of money he might want.1 When the Bishop of Bologna assumed the tiara, with the name of Nicholas V., he rewarded Cosimo by making him his banker; and the Jubilee bringing 100,000 ducats into the Papal treasury, the obligation was repaid a hundredfold.2 The chief benefit conferred by Cosimo de' Medici on learn ing was the accumulation and the housing of large publio libraries. During his exUe (Oct. 3, 1433— Oct. 1, 1434) he built the Library of S. Giorgio Maggiore at Venice, and after his return to Florence he formed three separate collections of MSS. While the haU of the Library of S. Marco was in process of construction, Niccolo de' NiccoU died, in 1437, bequeathing his 800 MSS., valued at 6,000 golden florins, to sixteen trustees. Among these were Cosimo and Lorenzo de' Medici, Ambrogio Traversari, Lionardo Bruni, Carlo Marsup pini, Poggio Bracciolini, Giannozzo Manetti, and Franco Sacehetti. At the same time the estate of Niccolo was com promised by heavy debts. These debts Cosimo canceUed, obtaining in exchange the right to dispose of the Ubrary. In 1441 the hall of the convent was finished. Four hundred of Niccolo's MSS. were placed there, with this inscription upon each : Ex hereditate doctissimi viri Nicolai de Nicolis de Florentid. Tommaso ParentuceUi made a catalogue at Cosimo's request, in which he not only noted the titles of NiccoU's books, but also marked the names of others wanting to complete the collection. This catalogue afterwards served as a guide to the founders of the Ubraries of Fiesole, Urbino, and Pesaro, and was, says Vespasiano, indispensable to book- collectors.3 Of the remaining 400 volumes Cosimo kept some ' Vespasiano, pp. 29, 264. * Ibid. pp. 34, 265. * See Vespasiano's Life of Nicholas V. p. 26. LIBRARIES 127 for his own (the Medicean) Ubrary, and some he gave to friends. At the same time he spared no pains in adding to the Marcian collection. His agents received instructions to buy codices, while Vespasiano and Fra Giuliano Lapaccini were employed in copying rare MSS. As soon as Cosimo had finished building the Abbey of Fiesole, he set about providing this also with a Ubrary suited to the wants of learned ecclesi astics. Of the method he pursued, Vespasiano, who acted as his agent, has transmitted the foUowing account : ' — ' One day, when I was in his room, he said to me, " What plan can you recommend for the formation of this library ? " I answered that to buy the books would be impossible, since they could not be purchased. " What, then, do you propose ? " he added. I told him that they must be copied. He then asked if I would undertake the business. I replied that I was willing. He bade me begin at my leisure, saying that he left all to me ; and for the monies wanted day by day, he ordered that Don Arcangelo, at that time prior of the monastery, should draw cheques upon his bank, which should be honoured. After beginning the coUection, since it was his wUl that it should be finished with all speed possible, and money was not lacking, I soon engaged forty-five copyists, and in twenty-two months provided two hundred volumes, fol lowing the admirable Ust furnished by Pope Nicholas V." The two libraries thus formed by Cosimo for the Convents of S. Marco and Fiesole, together with his own private coUec- tions, constitute the oldest portion of the present Laurentian Library. On the title-pages of many venerable MSS. may still be read inscriptions, testifying to the munificence of the Medici, and calUng upon pious students to remember the souls of their benefactors in their prayers2 — Orato itaque lector ut gloria et dwitioe sint in domo ejus justitia ejus et maneat in steculum scecuH. 1 Vita di Cosimo, p. 254. 2 See Von Eeumont, vol. i. p. 578. 128 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY Cosimo's zeal for learning was not confined to the build ing of libraries or to book-coUecting. His palace formed the centre of a Uterary and phUosophical society, which united all the wits of Florence and the visitors who crowded to the capital of culture. Vespasiano expressly states that ' he was always the father and benefactor of those who showed any exceUence.' * Distinguished by versatiUty of tastes and com prehensive intellect, he formed his own opinion of the men of eminence with whom he came in contact, and conversed with each upon his special subject. ' When giving audience to a scholar, he discoursed concerning letters ; in the company of theologians he showed his acquaintance with theology, a branch of learning always studied by him with delight. So also with regard to philosophy. Astrologers found him well versed in their science, for he somewhat lent faith to astrology and employed it on certain private occasions. Musicians in like manner perceived his mastery of music, wherein he much delighted. The same was true about sculpture and painting ; both of these arts he understood completely, and showed great favour to aU worthy craftsmen. In architecture he was a consummate judge, for without his opinion and advice no building was begun or carried to completion.' 2 The discernment of character, possessed by Cosimo in a very high degree, not only enabled him to extend enlightened patronage to arts and letters, but also to provide for the future needs of erudition. Stimulated by the presence of the Greeks who crowded Florence during the sitting of the Council in 1438, he formed a plan for encouraging HeUenic studies. It was he who founded the Platonic Academy, and educated Marsilio Ficino, the son of his physician, for the special purpose of mterpreting Greek phUosophy. Ficino, in a letter to Lorenzo de' Medici, observes that during twelve years he 1 Vita di Cosimo, p. 266. Condensed from Vespasiano, p. 258. NICCOLO DE' NICCOLI 129 had conversed with Cosimo on matters of philosophy, and always found him as acute in reasoning as he was prudent and powerful in action. ' I owe to Plato much, to Cosimo no less. He reaUsed for me the virtues of which Plato gave me the conception.' Thus the man whose poUtical cynicism is enshrined in such apophthegms as these : — ' A few eUs of scarlet would fiU Florence with citizens;' 'You cannot govern a State with paternosters ;' ' Better the city ruined than the city lost to us' — must, by his relations to scholars and his enthusiasm for culture, stiU command our admiration and respect. Among the friends of Cosimo, to whose personal influence at Florence the Eevival of Learning owed a vigorous impulse, Niccolo de' NiccoU claims our earliest attention.1 The part he took in promoting Greek studies has been already noticed, and we have seen that his private library formed the nucleus of the Marcian coUection. Of the eight hundred volumes bequeathed to his executors, the majority had been tran scribed by his own hand ; for he was assiduous in this labour, and plumed himself upon his skill in cursive as well as printed character.2 His whole fortune was expended long before his death in buying manuscripts or procuring copies from a distance. ' If he heard of any book in Greek or Latin not to be had in Florence, he spared no cost in getting it ; the number of the Latin books which Florence owes entirely to his generosity cannot be reckoned.' 3 Great, therefore, must have been the transports of delight with which he welcomed on one occasion a manuscript containing seven tragedies of 1 What follows I have based on Vespasiano's Life of Niccolo. Poggio's Funeral Oration, and his letter to Carlo Aretino on the death of his friend Niccolo, are to the same effect. PoggU Opera, pp. 270, 342. 2 Vespasiano, p. 471. ' Le scriveva di sua mano o di lettera eorsiva o formata, che dell' una lettera e dell' altra era bellissimo sorittore.' 3 Ibid. p. 473. II X 180 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY Sophocles, six of53schylus,andthe'Argonautica' ofApoUoniue Ehodius.1 Nor was he only eager in coUecting for his own use. He lent his books so freely that, at the moment of his death, two hundred volumes were out on loan ; 2 and, when it seemed that Boccaccio's library would perish from neglect, at his own cost he provided substantial wooden cases for it in the Convent of S. Spirito. We must not, however, conclude that Niccolo was a mere copyist and coUector. On the contrary, he made a point of collating the several MSS. of an author on whose text he was engaged, removed obvious errors, and suggested emendations, helping thus to lay the foundations of modern criticism. His judgment in matters of style was so highly valued that it was usual for scholars to submit their essays to his eyes before they ventured upon publication. Thus Lionardo Bruni sent him his 'Life of Cicero,' calUng him ' the censor of the Latin tongue.' 3 Notwithstanding his fine sense of language, Niccolo never appeared before the world of letters as an author. His enemies made the most of this reluctance, averring that he knew his own ineptitude, while his friends referred his silence to an exquisite fastidiousness of taste.4 It may have been that he remembered the Tacitean epigram on Galba — omnium consensu capax imperii nisi imperdsset — and applied it to himself. Certainly his reserve, in an age noteworthy for arrogant display, has tended to con fer on him distinction. The position he occupied at Florence was that of a literary dictator. AU who needed his assistance and advice were received with urbanity. He threw his house open to young men of parts, engaged in disputations with the curious, and provided the ill-educated with teachers. Fo reigners from all parts of Italy and Europe paid him visits: ' the strangers who came to Florence at that time, if they 1 See a letter of Ambrogio Traversari, quoted by Voigt, p. 155. * Vespasiano, p. 476. Poggio, p. 271. * Vespasiano, pp. 473, 478. « Ibid. p. 478. Poggio, p. 343. THE PORTRAIT OF A SCHOLAR 131 missed the opportunity of seeing him at home, thought they had not been in Florence." ' The house where he lived was worthy of his refined taste and cultivated judgment ; for he had formed a museum of antiquities — inscriptions, marbles, coins, vases, and engraved gems. There he not only received students and strangers, but conversed with sculptors and painters, discussing their inventions as freely as he criticised the essays of the scholars. It is probable that the classicism of BruneUeschi and DonateUo, both of whom were among his intimate friends, may be due in part at least to his discourses on the manner of the ancients.2 PUny, we know, was one of his favourite authors ; for, having heard that a complete codex of the ' Natural Histories ' existed at Lubeck, he left no stone unturned tiU it had been transferred to Florence.3 Vespasiano's account of his personal habits presents so vivid a picture that I cannot refrain from translating it at length : — ' First of aU, he was of a most fair presence ; hvely, for a smUe was ever on his lips ; and very pleasant in his talk. He wore clothes of the fairest crimson cloth, down to the ground. He never married, in order that he might not be impeded in his studies. A housekeeper provided for his daily needs. He was above aU men the most cleanly in eating, as also in all other things. When he sat at table, he ate from fair antique vases ; and, in like manner, aU his table was covered with porcelain and other vessels of great beauty. The cup from which he drank was of crystal or of some other pre cious stone. To see him at table — a perfect model of the men of old — was of a truth a charming sight. He always wiUed that the napkins set before him should be of the whitest, as weU as aU the linen. Some might wonder at the many vases he possessed, to whom I answer that things of that sort were neither so highly valued then, nor so much regarded, as they 1 Vespasiano, p. 477. * Und. p. 479. » Ibid. p. 474. k2 132 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY have since become ; and Niccolo having friends everywhere, anyone who wished to do him a pleasure would send him marble statues, or antique vases, carvings, inscriptions, pic tures from the hands of distinguished masters, and mosaic tablets. He had a most beautiful map, on which all the parts and cities of the world were marked ; others of Italy and Spain, aU painted. Florence could not show a house more fuU of ornaments than his, or one that had in it a greater number of graceful objects ; so that aU who went there found innumerable things of worth to please varieties of taste.' What distinguished Niccolo was the combination of refinement and humane breeding with Open-handed generosity and devo tion to the cause of culture. He. knew how to bring forward men of promise, and to place them in positions of eminence. Yet, in return for benefits conferred, he exacted more com pliance than could be expected from the haughty and unbend ing temper of distinguished scholars. Opposition and contra diction roused his jealousy and barbed his caustic speech with sarcasm. Chrysoloras and Guarino, Aurispa and Filelfo, after visiting Florence at his invitation, found the city un endurable through the opposition raised by Niccolo against them. Among the men of abihty who adorned Florence at this period, no one stands forth with a more distinguished person ality than Lionardo Bruni. In his boyhood at Arezzo, where his parents occupied a humble position, he used, as he tells us in his 'Commentaries,' ' to gaze on Petrarch's portrait, fervently desiring that he might win like laurels in the field of scholar ship. At first, however, being poor and of no reputation, he was forced to apply his talents to the study of the law. Prom these uncongenial labours the patronage of Salutato and the 1 Muratori, xix. p. 917. 'Erat in ipso cubiculo picta Francisoi Petrarcha imago, quam ego quotidie aspiciens, incredibili ardore stu- diorum ejus incendebar.' LIONARDO BEUNI 133 influence of Chrysoloras J saved him. Having begun to write for the pubhc, his fame as a Latinist soon spread so wide that he was appointed Apostolic Secretary to the Eoman Curia. After sharing the iU fortunes of John XXIII. at Constance, and serving under Martin V. at Florence, he was appointed to the Chancery of the Eepublic in 1427, a post which he occupied until his death in 1443. His biography, therefore, illustrates aU that has been said concerning the employment of humanists in high offices of Church and State. His diplo matic letters were regarded as models in that kind of com position, and his pubUc speeches, carefully prepared before hand, were compared with those of Pericles. Florence was crowded with the copyists who multiphed his MSS., dispersing them aU over Europe ; and when he walked abroad, a numerous train of scholars and of foreigners attended him.2 He moved with gravity and majesty of person, wearing the red robes of a Florentine burgher, using few words, but paying marked courtesy to men of wealth. Among the compositions which secured his reputation should first be mentioned the Latin 'History of Florence,' a work unique in its kind at that time in Italy.3 The grateful Eepubhc rewarded their chancellor by bestowing upon him the citizenship of Florence, and by exempting the author and his children from taxation. The high value at which Bruni rated his own Latin scholarship is proved by his daring to restore the second Decade of Livy in a compilation entitled ' De Primo BeUo Punico.' His mediasval erudition was exercised in the history of the Gothic invasion of Italy, while his more elegant style found ample scope in Latin Lives of Cicero and Aristotle, in a book of Com mentaries on his own times, and in ten volumes of Collected Letters. These original works were possibly of less impor tance than Bruni's translations from the Greek, which passed ' See above, pp. 77, 80. '' See Vespasiano, p. 436 3 See Vol. I., Age of Despots, pp. 216-218. 134 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY in his own age for models of sound scholarship as weU as pure Latinity. The erudition of the fifteenth century had to thank his industry for critical renderings of Aristotle's ' Ethics,' ' Pohtics,' and ' Economics.' J The ' Politics ' were dedicated to the Earl of Worcester, and the autograph was sent to England. Some delay in the acknowledgment of so magnificent a tribute of respect caused the haughty scholar to transfer the honour of his dedication to Eugenius IV. He cancelled his first pre face, substituted a new one, and received the praise and thanks he sought, in plenty from his Holiness.2 Of Plato Bruni trans lated the ' Phaedo,' ' Crito,' and ' Apology,' the ' Phsedrus ' and the ' Gorgias,' together with the ' Epistles.' To these versions must be added six Lives of Plutarch and two Orations of Demosthenes. Nor have we thus by any means exhausted the list of Brum's Latin compositions, which included controver sial writings, invectives, moral essays, orations, and tracts on Uterary or antiquarian topics. If we consider that, in the midst of these severe labours, and under the pressure of his public engagements, he stiU found time to compose Itahan Lives of Dante and Petrarch, we shall understand the admir ation universally expressed by his contemporaries for his com prehensive talents, and share their gratitude for services so numerous in the cause of learning. When Messer Lionardo died in 1443, the priors decreed him a pubUc funeral, ' after the manner of the ancients.' His corpse was clothed in dark silk, and on his breast was laid a copy of the Florentine History. Thus attired, he passed in state to S. Croce, where Giannozzo Manetti, in the presence of the Signory, the foreign ambassadors, and the Court of Pope Eugenius, pronounced a funeral oration, and placed the laurel crown upon his head.3 The monument 1 These last were then thought genuine. 1 Vespasiano, p. 436. * Ibid. Vita di Manetti, p. 452. Manetti was himself a prior at this time. MESSER CARLO ARETINO 1S5 beneath which Messer Lionardo's bones repose is an excel lent specimen of Florentine sepulchral statuary, executed by Bernardo EosseUino. Facing Brum's tomb in S. Croce is that of Carlo Aretino, wrought with subtler art and in a richer style by Desiderio da Settignano. Messer Carlo, who succeeded Bruni in the Chan cery of the EepubUc, shared during his lifetime, as well as in the pubhc honours paid him at his death, very similar fortunes. His family name was Marsuppini, and he was born of a good famUy in Arezzo. Having come to Florence while a youth to study Greek, he fell under the notice of Niccolo de* Niccoli, who introduced him to the Medicean family, and procured him an engagement at a high salary from the UffiziaU dello Studio. At the time when he began to lecture, Eugenius was holding his Court at Florence. The cardinals and nephews of the Pope, attended by foreign ambassadors, and followed by the apostoUc secretaries, mingled with burghers of Florence and students from a distance round the desk of the young scholar. Carlo's reading was known to be extensive, and his memory was celebrated as prodigious. Yet on the occasion of this first lecture he far surpassed all that was expected of him. 'Before a crowd of learned men,' says. Vespasiano, ' he gave a great proof of his memory, for neither Greeks nor Eomans had an author from whom he did not quote.' ' FUelfo, who was also lecturing in Florence at the time, had the mortification of seeing the larger portion of his audience transfer themselves to Marsuppini. This wound to his vanity he never forgave. Through the influence of Lorenzo de' Medici (Cosimo's younger brother), Carlo Marsuppini was first made ApostoUc Secretary, and then promoted to the Chancery of Florence. He was grave in manner, taciturn in speech, and much given to melancholy. His contemporaries regarded him as a man of no religion, ' Vita di Carlo d' Arezzo, p. 440. 136 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY and he was said to have died without confession or commu nion.1 This did not prevent his being buried in S. Croce with ceremonies similar to those decreed for Messer Lionardo. Matteo Palmieri pronounced the funeral oration, and placed the laurel on his brows. Marsuppini's contributions to scholarship were chiefly in verse ; among these his translations of the ' Batrachomyomachia ' and the first book of the ' Iliad ' were highly valued. Matteo Palmieri, who pronounced the funeral oration of Messer Carlo Aretino, sprang from an honourable Florentine stock, and by his own abilities rose to a station of considerable public influence. He is principally famous as the author of a mystical poem called ' Citta di Vita,' which, though it was condemned for its heretical opinions, obtained from Ficinus for its author the title of Poeta Theologicus. To discuss the circumstances under which this aUegory in the style of Dante was composed, the secresy in which it was involved until the poet's death, and the relation of Palmieri's views to heresies in vogue at Florence, belongs to a future section of my work,2 He claims a passing notice here among the humanists who acquired high place and honour by the credit of his eloquence and style. Giannozzo Manetti belonged to an illustrious house, and in his youth, like other weU-born Florentines, was trained for mercantUe affairs.3 At the age of five-and-twenty he threw off the parental control, and gave himseU entirely to letters. So obstinate was his industry in the acquisition of knowledge, that he allowed himself only five hours of sleep, and spent the ' 1 See Tiraboschi, tom. vi. p. 1094. « Se-e Vespasiano, p. 500. Tiraboschi, vol. vi. p. 678. App. iii. to vol. v. of this work. s The sources for Manetti's Life are Vespasiano and an anonymous Latin biography in Muratori. Besides the small Life of Vespasiano in his Vite d' Vommi Illustri, I have had recourse to his Comentario delta Vita di Gianozo Manetti, Turin, 1862. GIANNOZZO MANETTI 187 rest of his life in study. During nine whole years he never crossed the Arno, but remained within the walls of his house and garden, which communicated with the Convent of S. Spirito. Being passionately fond of disputation, he sought his chief amusement there in the debating society founded by MarsigU. Ambrogio Traversari was his master in Greek. Latin he had no difficulty in acquiring, and soon gained such facility in its exercise that even Lionardo Bruni is said to have envied his fluency. He was not, however, contented with these languages, and in order to perfect himself in Hebrew he kept a Jew in his own house.1 When he had acquired sufficient famUiarity with Hebrew, he turned the arms supplied him by his tutors against their heresies, basing his arguments upon such interpretations of texts as his superior phUology suggested to him. The great work of his Uterary leisure was a polemical discourse 'Contra Judaeos et Gentes,' for, unlike Marsuppini, he placed his erudition solely at the service of the Christian faith. Another fruit of his Hebrew studies was a new translation of the Psalms from the original. Manetti was far from being a mere student. During the best years of his Ufe he was continuaUy employed as am bassador to the EepubUc at Venice, Naples, Eome, and other Courts of Italy. He administered the government of Pescia, Pistoja, and Scarparia in times of great difficulty, winning a singular reputation for probity and justice. On all occasions of state his eloquence made him indispensable to the Signory, while the lists of his writings include numerous speeches upon varied topics addressed to potentates and princes throughout Italy.2 There is a curious story related in his Life, which illustrates the importance attached at this time to public 1 ' Tenne in casa dua Greci et uno Ebreo che s'era fatto Cristiano, et non voleva che il Greco parlasse con lui se non in greco, et il simile il Ebreo in ebreo.' — Comentario, p. 11. 2 'Se ignuna oosa difficile o cura disperata, la davano a Messer Giacozo.' — Ibid. p. 22. 138 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY speaking. After the coronation of the Emperor Frederick III., the Florentines sent fifteen ambassadors, including Manetti, attended by the ChanceUor Carlo Aretino, to congratulate him. Manetti was a CoUeague of the Signory, and on him would therefore have naturally faUen the fulfilment of the task, had not this honour been conferred, by private machina tions of the Medicean family, on Carlo. The ChanceUor duly delivered a prepared oration, which was answered by iEneas Sylvius in the name of the Emperor. Some topics raised in this reply required rejoinder from the Florentines ; but Messer Carlo declared himself unable to speak without previous study. To be forced to hold their tongues before the Emperor and all his suite was a bitter humUiation to the men of Florence. How could they return home and confess that the rhetoric of then: ChanceUor had been silenced by a witty secretary ? In their sore distress they besought Manetti to help them ; where upon he rose and deUvered an extempore oration. ' When it was finished,' says Vespasiano,1 ' aU competent judges who under stood Latin, and could follow it, declared that Messer Gian- nozzi's extempore speech was superior to that which Messer Carlo had prepared.' The Latin Life of Manetti contains innumerable instances of the miracles wrought by his rhetoric.2 Yet we should err if we imagined that the speeches pronounced upon solemn occasions, by even such iUustrious orators as Manetti or Pius II. , were marked by any of the nobler qualities of eloquence.3 They consist of commonplaces freely interspersed with historical examples and voluminous quotations. With out charm, without originality, they survive as monuments of 1 Vita di Gianozo Manetti, p. 462. Compare Burckhardt, p. 182. There is another story, told in the Comentario, of Manetti's speaking before Alfonso at Naples. The King remained so quiet that he did not even brush the flies from his face. P. 30. 2 Muratori, vol. xx. ' For Pius Ii.'s reputation see Burckhardt, p. i82. GIANNOZZO MANETTI EXILED 18» the enthusiasm of that age for classic erudition, and of the patience with which popes and princes lent their ears for two or three hours at a stretch to the self-complacent mouthings of a pompous pedant. Giannozzo Manetti became at last so great a power in Florence that he excited the jealousy of the Medicean party. They ruined him by the imposition of extravagant taxes, and he was obhged to end his Ufe an exile from his native land.1 Florence never behaved worse to a more blameless citizen ; for Manetti, by his cheerful acceptance of pubUc burdens, by his prudence in the discharge of weighty offices, by the piety and sobriety of his private Ufe, by his vast acquirements, and by the single-hearted zeal with which he burned for learning, had proved himself the model of such men as might have saved the State, if safety had been possible. He retired to the Court of Nicholas V., who had previously named him Apostolic Secre tary ; and on the death of that Pope he sought a final refuge with Alfonso at Naples.2 There he devoted himself entirely to Uterature, translating the whole of the New Testament and the ethical treatises of Aristotle into Latin, and carrying his great controversial work against the Jews and Gentiles onwards to completion. Few men deserve a higher place on the muster-roU of ItaUan worthies than Manetti. He was free from many vices of the Eenaissance ; his piety and moraUty remaining untainted by the contact with antiquity. Nor did he sink the citizen in the student. His learning was varied and profound. Instead of applying himself to Greek and Latin scholarship alone, he mastered Hebrew, and sought to acquire a comprehensive grasp of aU the knowledge of the ancient world. At the same time he Uved in constant sympathy with his age, sharing its ' Vespasiano, p. 465. Muratori, xx. 600. 2 Alfonso gave him a pension of 900 scudi. He wrote a history of his life and deeds. 140 EENAISSANCE IN ITALY delight in rhetorical displays and wordy disputations, and furthering the diffusion of knowledge by his toil as a translator. It may weU be wondered how it happens that a man in many points akin to Pico should have fallen so far short of him in fame. The explanation Ues in this : Manetti was deficient in aU that elevates mere learning to the rank of art. His Latin style was tedious ; his thoughts were commonplace. When the influence of his voice and person passed away, nothing remained to prove his eloquence but Ul-digested facts and Ul-appUed citations. StiU the work which he effected in his day was good, and the place he held was honourable. Posterity may be grateful to him as one of the most active pioneers of modern culture. A man of different stamp and calling claims attention next. Ambrogio Traversari was far from sharing the neopagan impulse of the classical revival ; yet he owed poUtical influence and a high place among the leaders of his age to humanistic enthusiasm. Born in Eomagna, and admitted while yet a child into the Convent degli AngeU at Florence, he gave early signs of his capacity for Uterature. At a time when knowledge of Greek was stiU a rare title to distinction,1 Ambrogio mastered the elements of the language and studied the Greek Fathers in the original. His cell became the meeting-place of learned men, where Cosimo and Lorenzo de' Medici, the stately Bruni and the sombre Marsuppini, joined with caustic Niccoli and Uvely Poggio in earnest conversation. His volu minous correspondence connected him with students in all parts of Italy ; nor was there any important discovery of MSS. or plan for library or university in which he did not take his part among the first. It seemed as though he were destined to pursue a peace- 1 Niccolo de' Niccoli, it must be remembered, was not a Greoian. Ambrogio used to insert the Greek words into his transcripts of Latin codices. AMBEOGIO TEA VERSARI 141 ful student's life among his books ; and for this career nature had marked out the Uttle, meagre, Uvely, and laborious man. To be eminent in scholarship, however, and to avoid the bur dens of celebrity, was impossible in that age. Eugenius IV., whUe resident in Florence, was so impressed with his Uterary eminence and strength of character that he made him General of the Camaldolese Order in 1431 ; and from this time forward Traversari's hfe was divided between public duties, for which he was scarcely fitted, and private studies that absorbed his deepest interests. He presented the curious spectacle of a monk distracted between the scruples of the cloister and the wider claims of humanism, who showed one mind to his Order and another to his literary friends. He made a point of never citing heathen poets in his writings, as though the verses of Homer or of VirgU were inconsistent with the sobriety of a Christian ; yet his anxiety to round his style with Cicero nian phrases, and to bequeath models of pure Latinity in his epistles to posterity, proved how much he valued literary graces. Having vowed to consecrate his talents to the services of ecclesiastical learning, he undertook the translation of Diogenes Laertius, at Cosimo's request, with reluctance, and performed the task with bitter self-bemoaning. In his person we witness the conflict of the humanistic spirit with ecclesias tical tradition — a conflict in which the former was destined to achieve a complete and memorable victory. These men — NiccoU, Bruni, Marsuppini, Manetti, and Traversari — formed the Uterary oligarchy who surrounded Cosimo de' Medici, and through their industry and influence restored the studies of antiquity at Florence. While they were carrying on the work of revival, each in his own sphere, with impassioned energy, a combination of external circum stances gave fresh impulse to their activity. Eugenius IV., having been expelled from Eome in 1434, had fixed his headquarters in Florence, whither in 1438 he transferred the 142 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY Council which had first been opened at Ferrara for negotiating the union of the Greek and Latin Churches. The Emperor of the East, John Palaeologus, surrounded by his theologians and scribes, together with the Pope of Eome, on whom a train of cardinals and secretaries attended, now took up their quarters in the city of the Medici. A temporary bunding at Santa Maria NoveUa was erected for the sessions of the CouncU, and for several months Florence entertained as guests the chiefs of the two great sections of Christendom. Unimportant as were the results, both political and ecclesias tical, of this CouncU, the meeting of the Eastern and the Western powers in conclave vividly impressed the imagination of the Florentines, and communicated a more than transient impulse to their intellectual energies. Italy was on the eve of becoming not only the depositary of Greek learning, but also the sole interpreter of the Greek spirit to the modern world. Fifteen years after the closing of the Council, the thread which had connected Byzantium with Athens through an unbroken series of historical traditions, was snapped ; already it was beginning to be felt in Europe that nothing but the ghost of Greek culture survived upon the shores of the Bosphorus, and that if the genius of antiquity was to illuminate the modern world, the light must dawn in Italy.1 The feelings with which the Florentines regarded their Greek guests were strangely mingled. WhUe honouring them as the last scions of the noblest nation of the past, as the authentic teachers of HeUenic learning and the masters of the Attic tongue, they despised their empty vanity, their facile apostasy, their trivial pedantry, their personal absurdities. The long beards, trailing mantles, painted eyebrows, and fantastic headgear of the Byzantine sophists moved the 1 See the emphatic words of Poliziano, quoted by Voigt, p. 189, on the revival of extinct Hellenism by the Florentines, and on their fluent command of the Attic idiom. GEMISTOS PLETHON 143 laughter of the common folk, accustomed to the grave and simple lucco of their own burghers. In vain did Vespasiano teU them that this costume descended from august antiquity through fifteen centuries of unchanged fashion.' The more educated citizens, again, soon discovered that the erudition of these strangers was but shaUow, and that their magnificent pretensions reduced themselves to the power of speaking the emasculated Greek, which formed their mother tongue, with fluency. The truth is that, however necessary the Byzan tines were at the very outset of the Eevival of Learning, Greek studies owed less to then: traditional lore than to the curiosity of Italian scholars. The beggarly elements of grammar, caligraphy, and bibUographical knowledge were supplied by the Greeks ; but it was not Chrysoloras even, nor yet Argy- ropoulos, so much as Ficino and Aldo, Palla degli Strozzi and Cosimo de' Medici, who opened the literature of Athens to the comprehension of the modern world. Some exceptions must be made to these remarks ; for it is not certain that, without guidance, the Florentines would have made that rapid progress in phUosophical studies which contrasts so singularly with their comparative neglect of the Attic dramatists. Gemistos Plethon in particular stands forth as a man who combined real knowledge with natural eloquence, and who materiaUy affected the whole course of the Eenais sance by directing the intelligence of the Florentines to Plato. Inasmuch as Plethon's residence in Italy during the session of the CouncU formed a decisive epoch in the Eevival of Learning, to pass him by without some detailed notice would be to omit one of the most interesting episodes in the history of the fifteenth century. At the same time, his biography so well illustrates the state of thought in the Greek Empire at the moment of its faU, as well as the speculations which inte- 1 See the curious passage in the Vita di Eugenio IV., Papa, p. J4. 144 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY rested phUosophic intellects at that period in Italy, that I trust the following digression wUl be judged excusable. Georgios Gemistos was born of noble parents at Byzan tium about the year 1355.1 During a long lifetime, chiefly spent in the Morea, he witnessed all the miseries that racked his country through its lingering agony of a hundred years, and died at last in 1450, just before the final downfaU of the Greek Empire. Of his early Ufe little is known beyond the fact that he left Constantinople as a young man in order to study phUosophy at Brusa. Brusa and AdrianopoUs, at that time the two Western seats of the Mahommedan power, out- rivaUed Byzantium in culture, whUe the mental vigour of the Mussulmans was far in advance of that of their effete neigh bours. The young Greek, who seems already to have lost his faith in Christianity, was attracted to the Moslem Court by EUssaios, a sage of Jewish birth. From this teacher he learned what then passed for the doctrines of Zoroaster. After quitting Brusa, Gemistos settled at Mistra in the Pelo- ponnese, upon the site of ancient Sparta, where with some interruptions he continued to reside until his death. The Greek Emperor was stiU nominally lord of the Morea, though the conquests of Frankish Crusaders and the incursions of the Turks had rendered his rule feeble. Gemistos, who en joyed the confidence of the Imperial House, was made a judge at Mistra, and thus obtained clear insight into the causes of the decadence of the Hellenic race upon its ancient soU. The picture he draws of the anarchy and immorality of the penin sula is frightful. He also professed philosophy, and at the age of thirty-three became a teacher of repute. The views he formed concerning the corruption of the Greek Church and the degradation of the Greek people, combined with his 1 I owe the greater part of the facts presented in this sketch of Gemistos to Fritz Schultze's Geschiehte der Philosophic der Renaissance, vol. i. HIS PHILOSOPHY 146 philosophical opinions, inspired him with the visionary ambition of reforming the creed, the ethics, and the political conditions of HeUas on a Pagan basis. There is something ludi crous as well as sad in the spectacle of this sophist, nourish ing the vain fancy that he might coin a complete religious system, which should supersede Christianity and restore vigour to the decayed body of the Greek Empire. In the dotage of HeUenism Gemistos discovered no new principle of vitahty, but returned to the speculative mysticism of the Neoplatonists. Their attempt at a Pagan revival had failed long ago in Alexandria, while force stiU remained to the Greek race, and whUe the Christian Church was stiU com paratively UI -assured. To propose it as a panacea in the year 1400 for the evUs of the Empire threatened by the Turks was mere childishness. Perhaps it is doing the sage injustice to treat his system seriously. Charity prompts us to regard it as a plaything invented for the amusement of his leisure hours. Yet nothing can be graver than his own language and that of his disciples. The work in which he embodied his doctrine was called 'The Laws* — ^ rwv vofiw ovyypaffi, or simply vo/xoi. It comprised a metaphysical system, the outlines of a new religion, an elaborate psychology and theory of ethics, and a scheme of political administration. According to his notions, there is one Supreme God, Zeus, the absolute and eternal reahty, existing as homogeneous and undiscriminated Being, WUl, Activity, and Power. Zeus begets everlasting Ideas, or Gods of the second order ; and these gods, to whom Gemistos gave the name of Greek divinities, constitute a hierarchy cor- responding to the abstract notions of his logic. With the object of harmonising the double series of immortal and mortal existences they are subdivided, by a singularly clumsy contrivance, into genuine and spurious children of Zeus. First among the genuine sons stands Poseidon, the idea of " L 148 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY ideas, the logical summum genus, who includes within him self the inteUectual universe potentiaUy. Next in rank is Hera, the female deity, created immediately by Zeus, but by a second act, and therefore inferior to Poseidon. These two are the primordial authors of the world as it exists. After them come three series, each of five deities, whereof the first set, including ApoUo, Artemis, Hephaestus, Dionysus, and Athena, represent the most general categories. The second set, among whom we find Atlas and Pluto, are the ideas of im mortal substance existing for ever in the world of Uving beings. The third, which reckons among others Hecate and Hestia, are the ideas of immortal substance existing for ever in the inanimate world. Next in the descending order come the spurious offspring of Zeus, or Titans, two of whom, Cronos and Aphrodite, are the ideas respectively of form and matter in things subject to decay and dissolution ; whUe Kore, Pan, and Demeter are the specific ideas of men, beasts, and plants. Hitherto we have been recording the genealogy of divine beings subject to no laws of time or change, who are, in fact, pure thoughts or logical entities. We arrive in the last place at deities of the third degree, the genuine and the spurious children, no longer of Zeus, but of Poseidon, chieftain of the second order of the hierarchy. The planets and the fixed stars constitute the higher of these inferior powers, whue the daemons fiU the lowest class of aU. At the very bottom of the scale, below the gods of every quality, stand men, beasts, plants, and the inorganic world. It wUl be perceived that this scheme is bastard Neo- platonism — a mystical fusion of Greek mythology and Greek logic, whereby the products of speculative analysis are hypo- stasised as divine persons. Of many difficulties patent in his doctrine Gemistos offered no solution. How, for example, can we ascribe to Zeus the procreation of spurious as well as genuine offspring ? It is possible that the philosopher, if HIERARCHY OF LOGICAL NOTIONS 147 questioned on such topics, would have fallen back on the con venient theory of progressively diminished efficacy in the creative act ; for though he guards against adopting the hypo thesis of emanation, it is clear, from the simUe of multipUed reflections in a series of mirrors, which he uses to explain the genealogy of gods, that some such conception modified his views. To point out the insults offered to the ancient myths, whereof he made such Uberal and arbitrary use, or to insist upon the foUy of the whole conceit, considered as the sub stance of a creed which should regenerate the world, would be superfluous ; nothing can be more grotesque, for instance, than the personification of identity and self-determining motion under the titles of Apollo and Dionysus, nor any confusion more fatal than the attribution of sex to categories of the un derstanding. The sole merit of the system consists in the classification of notions, the conception of an intellectual hierarchy, descending by interdependent stages from the primordial cause through pure ideas to their copies and material manifestations in the world of things. Dreams of this kind have always haunted the metaphysical imagination, giving rise to hybrids between poetry and logic ; and the system of Gemistos may fairly take rank among a hundred simUar attempts between the days of Plato and of Hegel. Such as it was, his metaphysic supphed Gemistos with the basis of a cult, a psychology, a theory of ethics, and a poU tical programme. He founded a sect, and was called by his esoteric followers ' the mystagogue of sublime and celestial dogmas.'1 They believed that the soul of Plato had been reincarnated in their master, and that the new creed, pro fessed by him, would supersede the faiths existing in the world. Among the most distinguished of these neophytes was the famous Bessarion, who adopted so much at any rate of his teacher's doctrine as rendered him indifferent to the 1 See Schultze, p. 53. l2 148 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY points at issue between the Greek and Latin Churches, when a cardinal's hat was offered as the price of his apostasy. Bessarion, however, was too much a man of the world to dream that Gemistos would triumph over Christ and Mahomet.1 WhUe using the language of the mystic, and recording his conviction that Plato's soul, released from the body of Gemistos, had joined the choir of the Olympian deities,2 it is probable that he was only playing, after the fashion of his age, with speculations that amused his fancy though they took no serious hold upon his Ufe. It was a period, we must remember, when scholars affected the man ners of the antique world, Latinised their names, and adopted fantastic titles in their academies and learned clubs. At no time of the world's history has this kind of masquerad ing attained to so much earnestness of rather more than half- behef. The attitude assumed by Gemistos and his disciples is, therefore, not without its value for illustrating the intellec tual conditions of the earUer Eenaissance. Practical religion had but Uttle energy among the educated classes. The interests of the Church were more political than spiritual. Science had not yet asserted her real rights in any sphere of thought. Art and Uterature, invigorated by the passion for antiquity, meanwhile absorbed the genius of the Italians ; and through a dim aesthetic haze the waning lights of Hellas mingled with the dayspring of the modern world. The most important event of Gemistos's life was the journey which he took to Italy in the train of John Palaeologus in 1438. Secretly disliking Christianity in general, and the Latin form of it in particular, he had endeavoured to dissuade the emperor from attending the Council. Now he found himself elected as one of the six champions of the cause of the Greek Church. For the subtle Greek intellect in that dotage of a doomed civilisation, no greater interest survived 1 See Schultze, p. 77, note. « Ibid. p. 107. GEMISTOS IN THE MEDICEAN CIRCLE 149 than could be found in dialectic ; and to dispute about the filioque of the Christian creed was fair sport, when no chance offered itself of forcing rationalistic Paganism down the throat of popes and cardinals. Therefore it is probable that Gemistos did not find his position at the CouncU peculiarly irksome, even though he had to Usten to reasonings about purgatory and the procession of the Holy Ghost, and to suggest arguments in favour of the Eastern dogma, while in his inmost soul he equaUy despised the combatants on either Bide. The effect he produced outside the CouncU was far more flattering than the part he had to play within the waUs of Santa Maria NoveUa. Instead of power-loving ecclesiastics and pig-headed theologians, anxious only to extend their privileges and establish their supremacy, he found a multi tude of sympathetic and enthusiastic listeners. The Floren tines were just then in the first flush of their passion for Greek study. Plato, worshipped as an unknown god, whose rising would dispel the mists of scholastic theology, was upon the Ups of every student. Men were thirsting for the philo sophy that had the charm of poetry, that dehghted the imagination whUe it fortified the understanding, and that lent its glamour to the dreams and yearnings of a youthful age. What they wanted, Gemistos possessed in abundance. From the treasures of a memory stored with Platonic, Pytha gorean, and Alexandrian mysticism he poured forth copious streams of indiscriminate erudition. The ears of his audience were open; their intellects were far from critical. They accepted the gold and dross of his discourse alike as purest metal. Hanging upon the Ups of the eloquent, grave, beauti ful old man, who knew so much that they desired to learn, they caUed him Socrates and Plato in their ecstasy. It was during this visit to Florence that he adopted the name of Plethon, which, whUe it played upon Gemistos, had in it the 150 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY ring of his great master's surname.1 The devotion of his Greek disciples bore no comparison with the popularity he acquired among ItaUans ; and he had the satisfaction of being sure that the seed of Platonic philosophy sown by him would spring up in the rich soU of those powerful and eager minds. Cosimo de' Medici, convinced of the importance of Platonic studies by his conversations with Gemistos, founded the famous Florentine Academy, and designated the young Marsilio Ficino for the special task of translating and explain ing the Platonic writings.2 When we caU to mind the influence which the Platonic Academy of Florence, through Ficino and Pico deUa Mirandola, exerted over the whole thought of Italy, and, through Beuchlin and his pupil Melanchthon, over that of Germany, we are able to estimate the impulse given by Gemistos to the movement of the fifteenth century. It may be added that Platonic studies in Italy never recovered from the impress of Neoplatonio mysticism which proceeded from his mind. WhUe resident in Florence he published two treatises on Fate and on the differences between Plato and Aristotle. The former was an anti-Christian work, in so far as it denied the freedom of arbitrary activity to God as well as men. The latter raised a controversy in Italy and Greece, which long survived its author, exercising the scholars of the Eenaissance to some purpose on the texts and doctrines of the chief great 1 TepurrSs and yepilfa, n\4i8vi> and it\^0 laneorm appendices by Vermiglioli, was published at Perugia in 1819. VITTORINO DA FELTRE 209 The sketch which I have given of FUelfo's Ufe, abounds in detaUs beyond the just proportions of the present chapter. This is due partly to the copiousness and the excellence of the authorities coUected by Eosmini in his exhaustive biography, but more to the undoubted fact that Filelfo ranks as the typical humanist of his age. The universality of his acquire ments and the impression they made upon contemporaries, his enormous physical vigour and incessant mental activity, the vehemence with which he prosecuted his Uterary warfares and the restlessness that drove him from capital to capital in Italy, are themselves enough to mark him out as the repre sentative hero of the second period of humanism. Not less characteristic were the quahty and the form of his Uterary work — ridiculously over-valued then, and now perhaps too readily depreciated. There is something pathetic in the certainty of everlasting fame that sustained the student through so many years of unremitting labour. It makes us wonder whether the achievements of the human inteUect, in science and discovery, acceptable as these may be to their own time, are not, equaUy with FUelfo's triumph of scholarship, foredoomed to speedy obscuration. Nothing is imperishable but high thought, to which art has communicated the inde structible form of beauty. The ' Age of the Despots ' ¦ contains a promise of further detaUs concerning Vittorino da Feltre, to redeem which the time has now come. His father's name was Bruto de' Eambaldoni; but having been born at Feltre in the year 1378, he took from his birthplace the surname by which he is best known. Like the majority of his contemporaries, Vittorino studied Latin under John of Eavenna and rhetoric under Gasparino da Barzizza. His poverty compeUed him at the same time to support himself by taking pupUs; this drudgery, however, ' Pp. 138, 139. H p 210 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY was so unremunerative that, when he wanted to attend the mathematical lectures of Biagio Pelacane, he had to pay that avaricious and eccentric teacher by personal service. As Haydn got his much- desired instruction from Porpora by playing the part of valet,1 so Vittorino became the scullery boy of Pelacane,2 in order that he might acquire geometry. These early studies were carried on at Padua, from which town he appears to have moved about the year 1417 to Venice. Here he entered into friendship with Guarino da Verona, and having learned Greek, returned to his old university as professor of rhetoric.3 The bias of Vittorino's genius inclined toward private teaching, and it is this by which he is dis tinguished among contemporary humanists. Accordingly we find that, as soon as he was settled in Padua, he opened a school for a fixed number of young men, selected without regard to rank or wealth. From the richer pupils he required fees proportioned to their means ; from the poor he exacted nothing : thus the wealthy were made to support the needy, WhUe the teacher obtained for himself the noble satisfaction of relieving aspirants after knowledge from the pressure of want and privation. Other gain than this he never thought of. Only genuine students were aUowed to remain in Vittorino's school ; the moral rule was strict, and high thinking and plain Uving were expected from all his pupils. This generous devotion to the cause of learning for its own sake contrasts strongly with the self-seeking and vainglory of other humanists. When FUelfo was urged on one occasion to open a school for promising young men of noble birth, he asked disdainfuUy whether his friends expected him to take rank as a Ucensed victuaUer.4 He was unable to 1 Grove's Dictionary of Music and Musicians, vol. i. p. 704 b. 2 ' Usque ad mundandam supellectilem quee sumpto cibo lavare Bonsuerit.' — Rosmini, Vita di Vittorino, p. 38, note. ¦ In 1422 apparently. 4 Locandiere. Rosmini, vol. i. p. 67' SCHOOL AT MANTUA 211 comprehend the possibUity of doing anything that would not reflect lustre on himself or place him in the Ught of popular applause. Vittorino found it difficult to govern his school at Padua as strictly as he wished. The pubUc Gymnasium was ill- ordered, and great Ucense of life was permitted to its students. He therefore removed to Venice in 1423, where he continued his work as private tutor. By this time, however, he had acquired considerable reputation as an educator, to whose care the youth of both sexes might be entrusted with implicit confidence — no smaU testimony to his goodness in that age of ungoverned passions and indescribable vices. The Marchese Gian Francesco Gonzaga was looking out for a master for his children, and his choice feU on Vittorino. The admiration of antiquity was no mere matter of fashion with this prince. He loved history for its own sake, and professed a special reverence for the Eoman CamiUus. His practical good sense made him understand that, if he wished his sons and daughters to become thoroughly educated, not only in the humanities and mathematics, but also in the republican virtues of the ancients, which then formed the ideal of Ufe in Italy, he must be wUling to commit them whoUy to the charge of their appointed governor. Vittorino, who would have undertaken the duty on no other condition, obtained fuU control of the young princes and their servants. An appointment of twenty sequins per month was assigned to him, together with a general order on the treasury of Mantua. A viUa, caUed Casa Zojosa, which we may trans late Joyous Gard, was allotted to the new household, and there Vittorino estabhshed himself as master in 1425. He had much to do before this dweUing could be converted from the pleasure house of a mediaeval sovereign into the semi- monastic resort of earnest students. Through its open p2 tl2 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY gaUeries and painted banquet chambers the young Gonzaghi lounged with favourite friends selected from the Mantuan nobility. The tables groaned under gold and sUver plate, while perfumed lacqueys handed round rich wines and highly seasoned dishes, and the garden alleys echoed to the sound of lute and viol. Without making any brusque or sudden reformation, Vittorino managed, by degrees, and on various pretexts, to dismiss the more dangerous friends and servants of his pupils. A strict house-porter was engaged, with orders to exclude suspicious visitors. Plain clothes, simple habits, and frugal meals became the rule of the household, Vittorino contriving to render these changes no less agreeable than salutary to his pupUs. When complaints arose from the former companions of the princes and their parents, he laid his plan of training clearly before the Marquis, who had the good sense to approve of aU that he had done. The eldest of Gian Francesco's children, Lodovico, was a youth of lazy habits, inclined to gluttony, and already too fat for his age. The next, Carlo, had outgrown his strength, and needed more substantial food. Vittorino devised systems of diet and physical training suited to their several tempera ments, making it his one object to increase their vigour, and by multiplying sources of rational enjoyment to dispose them to the energetic exercise of their faculties. He by no means neglected what we call athletics. Indeed, it was a funda mental axiom of his method that a robust body could alone harbour a healthy mind. Boys who sat poring over books, or haunted sohtary places, lost in dreaming, found no favour in his eyes. To exercises in the gymnasium or the riding- school he preferred games in the open air; hunting and fishing, wrestUng and fencing, running and jumping, were practised by his pupils in the park outside their palace. To harden them against severities of heat and cold, to render COURSE OF STUDIES 213 them temperate in food and drink, to train their voices, and to improve their carriage was his first care. Since he could not himsetf superintend their education in aU its branches, he engaged a subordinate staff of tutors ; grammarians, logicians, mathematicians, painters, and masters of riding, dancing, singing, swimming, fencing, began to crowd the haUs of Joyous Gard. Each had his own aUotted task to perform, whUe Vittorino surveyed the whole scheme. ' Perhaps,' says Eosmini,1 ' the only sciences that were not taught in this academy were civU and canon law and natural physics.' It must not be imagined that so extensive an apparatus existed solely for the young Gonzaghi. Noble youths from aU the Courts of Italy, and students from remote parts of Europe, sought admittance to Vittorino's school. The more promising of these pupils, who were fitted by their rank and disposition to associate with his princely charges, the master housed under his own roof ; whUe for the rest he provided suitable lodgings near at hand. Many were the poor students who thus owed to his generosity participation in the most refined and scientific culture their century afforded.2 WhUe paying this tribute to Vittorino da Feltre, we must remember the honour that is also due to Gian Francesco Gonzaga. Had this prince not been endowed with true liberality of soul and freedom from petty prejudice, Vittorino could never have developed a system based upon pure democratic principles, which even now may rank as an unrivalled educational ideal. If the master, again, was able to provide for sixty poor scholars at a time — teaching, feeding, clothing, and furnishing them with costly books, ' P. 111. 2 Sixty poor scholars were taught, fed, clothed, and provided with implements of study at his cost. He also subsidised their families in distress. Rosmini, Vita di Vittorino, pp. 165, 166. 214 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY his friend the Marquis must, we feel sure, have supplied his purse with extra funds for charitable purposes.1 The numerous biographers of Vittorino have transmitted many detaUs in illustration of his method of teaching. He used to read the classic authors aloud, prefixing biographical notices by way of introduction, and explaining the matter, as weU as the language of his text, as he proceeded. Sometimes he made his pupils read, correcting their pronunciation, and obhging them to mark the meaning by emphasis. He relied much on learning by heart and repetition, as the surest means of forming a good style. Gifted with a finer instinct for language than the majority of his contemporaries, he was careful that his pupils should distinguish between different types of Uterary exceUence, not confounding Cicero with Seneca or Virgil with Lucan, but striving to appreciate the special qualities of each. With a view to the acquisition of pure principles of taste, he confined them at first to Virgil and Homer, Cicero and Demosthenes. These four authors he regarded as the supreme masters of expression. Ovid was too luxuriant, Juvenal top coarse, to serve as guides for tiros. Horace and Persius among the satirists, Terence among the comic poets, might be safely studied. In spite of Seneca's weight as a philosophic essayist, Vittorino censured the affectations of his rhetoric ; and while he praised the beauty of the Latin elegists, he judged them iU-suited for the training of the young. Criticism of this kind, though it may sound to us obvious and superficial, was extremely rare in the fifteenth century, when scholars were too apt to neglect differences of style in ancient authors, and to ignore the ethics of their works. The refinement which distinguished Vittorino, made him prefer the graces of a chastened manner 1 Rosmini, Vita di Vittorino, p. 165. Vespasiano, p. 492, tells a story which illustrates these relations between Vittorino and the Marquis. Cf., too, p. 494. VHTORINO'S PUPDLS 218 to the sounding phrases of emphatic declamation. His pupils were taught to see that they had something to say first, and then to say it with simplicity and elegance. This purity of taste was no mere matter of aesthetic sensibility with Vittorino. Habits which brutalise the mind or debase the body, however sanctioned by the usage of the times, met with httle toleration in his presence. Swearing, obscene language, vulgar joking, and angry altercation were severely punished. Personal moraUty and the observance of religious exercises he exacted from his pupils. Lying was a heinous offence. Those who proved intractable upon these points were excluded from his school. Of the rest Vespasiano writes with emphasis that ' his house was a sanctuary of manners, deeds, and words.' ' Concerning the noble Italian youths who were educated with the Gonzaga family at Mantua, enough has been said in another place.2 Appended to Eosmini's copious biography wiU be found, by those who are curious to read such details, the notices of forty more or less distinguished pupUs.3 Beside the two sons of Gian Francesco Gonzaga already mentioned, Vittorino educated three other chUdren of his master — Gian- lucido, Alessandro, and CecUia.4 Wholly dedicated to the cares of teaching, and more anxious to survive in the good fame of his scholars than to secure the immortaUty of Utera ture, Vittorino bequeathed no writings to posterity. He Uved to a hale and hearty old age ; and when he died, in 1446, it was found that the Ulustrious scholar, after enjoying for so many years the UberaUty of his princely patron, had not accumulated enough money to pay for his own funeral. 1 P. 492. * Vol. I., Age of the Despots, p. 138. '• Pp. 249-476. 4 See Bosmini, p. 183, and Vespasiano, p. 493, for the record of he? virtues, her learning, and her refusal to wed the infamous Oddo da Montefeltro. 110 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY Whatever he possessed, he spent in charity during his Hfetime, trusting to the kindness of his friends to bury him when dead. Few lives of which there is any record in history, are so per fectly praiseworthy as Vittorino's ; few men have more nobly realised the idea of living for the highest objects of their age ; few have succeeded in keeping themselves so whoUy unspotted by the vices of the world around them. By the patronage extended to Vittorino da Feltre the Court of Mantua took rank among the high schools of humanism in Italy. Ferrara won a similar distinction through the liberality of the House of Este. What has already been said about MUan applies, however, in a less degree to Ferrara. The arts and letters, though they flourished with exceeding brilliance beneath the patrons of Boiardo, Ariosto, and Tasso, were but accessories to a splendid and voluptuous Court life. Literature was little better than an exotic, cultivated for its rarity and beauty by the princes of the Este famUy. The golden age of culture at Ferrara began in 1402, when Niccolo IH. reopened the university. Twenty-seven years later Guarino da Verona made it one of the five chief seats of Southern learning. The life of this eminent scholar in many points resembles that of Filelfo, though their characters were very different. Guarino was born of respectable parents at Verona in 1370. He studied Latin in the school of Giovanni da Eavenna, and while stiU a lad of eighteen traveUed to Constantinople at the cost of a noble Venetian, Paolo Zane, in order to learn Greek. After a residence of five years in Greece he returned to Venice, and began to lecture to crowded audiences.1 Like all the humanists, he seems to have pre ferred temporary to permanent engagements — passing from Venice to Verona, from Trent to Padua, from Bologna to Florence, and everywhere acquiring that substantial reputation 1 See his Life by Rosmini, p. 11. for his brilliant reception at Venice. GUARINO 217 as a teacher to which he owed the invitation of Niccolo d' Este in 1429. He was now a man of nearly sixty, master of the two languages, and well acquainted with the method of instruction. The Marquis of Ferrara engaged him as tutor to his Ulegitimate son LioneUo, heir apparent to his throne. For seven years Guarino devoted himself wholly to the educa tion of this youth, who passed for one of the best scholars of his age. Granting that the reputation for learning was Ughtly conferred on princes by their Uterary parasites, it seems certain that LioneUo derived more than a mere smattering in culture from his tutor. Amid the pleasures of the chase, to which he was passionately devoted, and the distractions of the gayest Court in Italy, he found time to correspond on topics of scholarship with Poggio, FUelfo, Decembrio, and Francesco Barbaro. His conversation turned habitually upon the fashionable themes of antique ethics, and his favourite com panions were men of pohte education. It is no wonder that the humanists, who saw in him a future Augustus, deplored his early death with unfeigned sorrow, though we, who can only judge him by the general standard of his family, may be permitted to reserve our opinion. The profile portrait of LioneUo, now preserved in the National Gallery, does not, at any rate, prepossess us very strongly in his favour. Guarino, Uke his friend Vittorino, was celebrated for the method of his teaching and for the exact order of his dis cipline.1 Students flocked from aU the cities of Italy to his lecture-room; for, as soon as his tutorial engagements with the prince permitted, he received a pubhc appointment as professor of eloquence from the Ferrarese Consiglio de' Savi. In this post he laboured for many years, maintaining his reputation as a student and fining the universities of Italy with his pupils. A sentence describing his manner of Ufe in ' See the details collected by Rosmini, Vita di Guarino, pp. 79-87. 2i s RENAISSANCE IN ITALY extreme old age might be used to illustrate the enthusiasm which sustained the vital energy of scholars in that genera tion : — ' His memory is marvellous, and his habit of reading is so indefatigable, that he scarcely takes the time to eat, to sleep, or to go abroad ; and yet his Umbs and senses have tha vigour of youth.' l Guarino was one of the few humanists whose moral character won equal respect with his learning. When he died at the age of ninety, the father of six boys and seven girls by his wife Taddea Cendrata of Verona, it was possible to say with truth that he had reaUsed the ideal of a temperate scholar's Ufe. Yet this incomparable teacher of youth undertook the defence of BeccadelU's obscene verses ; this anchorite of humanism penned virulent invectives with the worst of his contemporaries.2 Such contrasts were com mon enough in the fifteenth century. The name of Giovanni Aurispa must not be omitted in connection with Ferrara. Born in 1369 at Noto in Sicily, he Uved to a great age, and died in 1459. He too travelled in early youth to Constantinople, and returned, laden with MSS. and learning, to profess the humanities in Italy. His life forms, therefore, a close parallel with that of both Guarino and FileKo. Aurispa, however, was gifted with a less un resting temper than Filelfo ; nor did he achieve the same professorial success as Guarino. In his school at Ferrara he enjoyed the calmer pleasures of a student's Ufe, ' devoted,' as Filelfo phrased it, ' to the placid Muses.' 8 To give an account of aU the minor Courts, where human ism flourished under the patronage of petty princes, would be tedious and unprofitable. It is enough to notice that the 1 Timoteo Maffei, quoted by Tiraboschi, vol. vi. lib. iii. oap. 5, 8. 1 He carried on literary feuds with Niccolo de' Niccoli, Poggio, Filelfo, and Georgios Trapezuntios. 3 ' Placidis Aurispa Camcenis Deditus,' Sat, dec. i. hec. 5. Valla, Antid. im, Pogium, p. 7, describes him as ' virum suavissimum et ab omni contentione remotissimum.' CULTURE IN THE SMALLER COURTS 21» universities, in this age of indefatigable energy, kept forming scholars, eager to make then: way as secretaries and tutors, while the nobles competed for the honour and the profit to ba derived from the service of iUustrious wits and ready pens. The seeds of classic culture were thus sown in every httle city that could boast its castle. Carpi, for example, was preparing the ground where Aldus and Musurus flourished. At ForU the Ordelaffi, doomed to extinction at no distant period, gave protection to Codrus Urceus.1 Mirandola was growing fit to be the birthplace of the mighty Pico. Alessandro and Costanzo Sforza were adorning their lordship of Pesaro with a library that rivalled those of Eome and Florence.2 In the fortress of Eimini, Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta conversed with men of learning whenever his intrigues and his mUitary duties gave him leisure. The desperate and godless tyrant, whose passions bordered upon madness, and whose name was a byeword for aU the vices that disgrace humanity, curbed his temper before petty witlings Uke Porcellio, and carved a record of his burning love for learning on the temple raised to celebrate his fame in Eimini. To the same passion for scholar ship in his brother, Malatesta Novello, the tiny burgh of Cesena owed the foundation of a Ubrary, not only well supplied with books, but endowed with a yearly income of 300 golden florins for its maintenance. The money spent on scholarship at these minor Courts was gained, for the most part, in military service — the wealth of Florentine and Venetian citizens, of Milanese despots, and ambitious Popes flowing through the hands of professional war-captains into the pockets of bookseUers and students. It consequently happened that the impulse given at this time to learning in the lesser cities was but temporary. With the faU of the Malatesti and the 1 Cf. Tiraboschi, vi. lib. iii. cap. 5, 58. ¦ Vespasiano, pp. 113-117, gives an interesting account of these lettered and warlike princes. 220 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY Sforza famUy, for instance, erudition died at Eimini and Pesaro. This might have been the case at Urbino also, if the House of Montefeltro had not succeeded, by wise conduct and prudent marriages, in resisting the encroachments of the Church, and transmitting its duchy to the DeUa Eovere family. As it was, Urbino retained for three generations the stamp of culture and refinement impressed upon it by the good Duke Frederick. Of his famous library, Vespasiano, who was employed in its formation, has given us minute and interesting detaUs.1 During more than fourteen years the Duke kept thirty or forty copyists continuaUy employed in transcribing Greek and Latin MSS. Not only the classics in both languages, but the ecclesiastical and mediaeval authors, the Itahan poets, and the works of contemporary humanists found a place in his coUection. The cost of the whole was estimated at considerably over 30,000 ducats. Each volume was bound in crimson, with sUver clasps ; the leaves were of vellum, exquisitely adorned with miniatures ; nor could you find a printed book in the whole Ubrary, for the Duke would have been ashamed to own one. Vespasiano's ad miration for these dehcately finished MSS. and the contempt he expresses for the new art of printing are highly charac teristic.2 Enough has been already said by me elsewhere about Federigo da Montefeltro and his patronage of learning.3 The Queen's coUection at Windsor contains a curious picture, attributed to Melozza da ForU, of which I may be aUowed to speak in this place, since it possesses more than usual interest for the student of humanism at the Italian Courts. In a large rectangular hall, lighted from above by windows in a dome, the Duke of Urbino is seated, wearing the robes and badges of the Garter, and resting his left hand on a 1 See pp.. 94-99. « P. 99. • Vol. I., Age of the Despots, pp. 136-142. A PICTURE OF DUKE FREDERICK 221 foUo. His son Guidobaldo, a boy of about eleven years of age, or Uttle more, stands at the Duke's knee, dressed in yeUow damask trimmed with pearls. Behind them, on a raised bench with a desk before it, sit three men, one attired in the red suit of a prelate, the second in black ecclesiastical attire, and the third in secular costume. At a door, opening on a passage, stand servants and lesser courtiers. The whole company are Ustening attentively to a grey-haired, black- robed humanist, seated in a sort of pulpit opposite to the Duke and his son. A large book, bound in crimson, with sUver clasps is open on the desk before him ; and by the movement of his mouth it is clear that he is reading aloud passages from some classical or ecclesiastical author, and explaining them for the benefit of his iUustrious audience. To identify the scholar and the three men behind Federigo would not be impossible, if the exact date of this curious work could be ascertained; for they are clearly portraits. I Uke to fancy that in the layman we may perhaps recognise the exceUent Vespasiano. Such conjectures are, however, hazardous; meanwhile the picture has intrinsic value as the unique representation, so far as I know, of a scene of frequent occurrence in the Courts of Italy, where listening to lectures formed a part of every day's occupation. This is the proper place to speak of Vespasiano da Bisticci, on whose 'Lives of IUustrious Men' I have had occasion to draw so copiously. Peculiar interest attaches to him as the last of mediaeval scribes, and at the same time the first of modern booksellers.1 Besides being the agent of Cosimo de' Medici, Nicholas V., and Frederick of Urbino, Vespasiano suppUed the foreign markets, sending MSS. by order to Hungary, Portugal, Germany, and England. The extent of his trade rendered him the largest employer of copyists in Europe at the moment when this industry was about to 1 In the register of his death he is described as Vespasiano, Cartolaro. 222 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY be superseded, and when scholars were already inquiring for news about the art that saved expense and shortened the labour of the student.1 Vespasiano, who was born in 1421 at Florence, lived untU 1498 ; so that after haviDg helped to form the three greatest coUections of MSS. in Italy, he wit nessed the triumph of printing, and might have even handled the Musaeus issued from the Aldine Press in 1493. Vespa siano was no mere tradesman. His knowledge of the books he sold was accurate ; continual study enabled him to over look the copyists, and to vouch for the exactitude of their transcripts.2 At the same time his occupation brought him into close intimacy with the chief scholars of the age, so that the new culture reached him by conversation and familiar correspondence. As a biographer Vespasiano pos sessed rare merit. Personally acquainted with the men of whom he wrote, he drew their characters with praiseworthy succinctness and simplicity. There is no panegyrical em phasis, no calumnious innuendo, in his sketches. It may even be said that they suffer from reservation of opinion and suppression of facts. Vespasiano's hatred of vice and love of virtue were so genuine that, in his eagerness to honour men of letters and their patrons, he softened down harsh outlines and passed over all that is condemnable in sUence. He was less anxious to paint character in the style 1 See Rosmini, Vita di Filelfo, vol. ii. p. 201. ' I have made up my mind to buy some of those codices they are now making without any trouble, and without the pen, but with certain so-called types, and which seem to be the work of a skilled and exact scribe. Tell me, then, at what price are sold the Natural History of Pliny, the three Decades of Livy, and Aulus Gellius.' Letter to Nicodemo Tranchedino, sent from Siena to Bome, dated July 25, 1470. 2 See this passage from a panegyric quoted by Angelo Mai : — ' Tu profecto in hoc nostro deteriori sasculo hebraiose, grseesB atque latinss linguarum, omnium voluminum dignorum memoratu notitiam, eo rumque auotores memorias tradidisti.' — Vite di Uomini Illustri, preface, p. xxiii. THE. BOOKSELLER VESPASIANO 223 of Tacitus or Guicciardini, than to relate what he knew about the progress of learning in his age. The ethical intention in his work is obvious. The quaUties he loves to celebrate are piety, chastity, generosity, devotion to the cause of Uberal culture, and high-souled patriotism. Of the vices that added a lurid lustre to the age in which he hved, of the poUtical rancours that divided the cities into hostUe parties, and of the imperfections in the characters of eminent men, we hear nothing from Vespasiano. It is pleasant to conclude this ohapter with an expression of gratitude to a man so blameless in his life, so charitable in his judgments, and so trustworthy in his record of contemporary history. 224 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY CHAPTEE VI THIRD PBEI0D OP HUMANISM Improvement in Taste and Criticism — Coteries and Academies — Revival of Italian Literature — Printing — Florenoe, the Capital of Learning- Lorenzo de' Medici and his Circle —Public Policy of Lorenzo- Literary Patronage— Variety of his Gifts — Meetings of the Platonic Society — Marsilio Ficino — His Education for Platonic Studies- Translations of Plato and the Neoplatonists — Harmony between Plato and Christianity — Giovanni Pico — His First Appearance in Florence — His Theses proposed at Borne — Censure of the Church — His Study of the Cabbala— Large Conception of Learning — Occult Science — Cristoforo Landino— Prof essor of Fine Literature — Virgilian Studies — Camaldolese Disputations — Leo Battista Alberti — His Versatility- Bartolommeo Scala — Obscure Origin — Chancellor of Florence — Angelo Poliziano — Early Life— Translation of Homer— The ' Homericus Juvenis ' — True Genius in Poliziano — Command of Latin and Greek — Besuscitation of Antiquity in his own Person— His Professorial Work — The ' Miscellanea ' — Belation to Medici — Roman Scholarship in this Period — Pius II. — Pomponius Lastua — His Academy and Mode of Life — Persecution under Paul II.— Humanism at Naples — Pontanus — His Academy — His Writings- Academies established in all Towns of Italy — Introduction of Print ing — Sweynheim and Pannartz — The Early Venetian Press- Florence — Cennini — Alopa's Homer — Change in Scholarship effected by Printing — The Life of Aldo Manuzio — The Princely House of Pio at Carpi — Greek Books before Aldo — The Aldine Press at Venice — History of its Activity — Aldo and Erasmus — Aldo and the Greek Refugees — Aldo's Death — His family and Successors — The Ne- academia — The Salvation of Greek Literature. In the four preceding chapters I have sketched the rise and progress of ItaUan humanism with more minuteness than need be now employed upon the history of its further develop ment. By the scholars of the first and second period the whole domain of ancient Uterature was reconquered; the IMPROVEMENT OF TASTE 225 classics were restored in their integrity to the modern world. Petrarch first inflamed the enthusiasm without which so great a work could not have been accomplished, his immediate successors mastered the Greek language, and explored every province of antiquity. Much stUl remained, however, to be achieved by a new generation of students : for as yet criticism was but in its cradle ; the graces of style were but little understood; indiscriminate erudition passed for scholarship, and crude verbiage for eloquence. The humanists of the third age, stiU burning with the zeal that animated Petrarch, and profiting by the labours of their predecessors, ascended to a higher level of culture. It is their glory to have purified the coarse and tumid style of mediaeval Latinists, to have introduced the methods of comparative and assthetic criticism, and to have distinguished the characteristics of the authors and the periods they studied. The salient features of this third age of humanism may be briefly stated. Having done their work by sowing the seeds of culture broadcast, the vagrant professors of the second period begin to disappear, and the repubUc of letters tends to crystallise round men of eminence in coteries and learned circles. This, therefore, is the age of the academies. Secondly, it is noticeable that ItaUan Uterature, almost totally abandoned in the first fervour of enthusiasm for antiquity, now receives nearly as much attention as the classics. Since the reviv al of Itahan in the golden age of the Eenaissance wiU form the subject of my final volume, the names of Lorenzo de' Medici and PoUziano at Florence, of Boiardo at Ferrara, and of San- nazzaro at Naples may here suffice to indicate the points of contact between scholarship and the national literature. A century had been employed in the acquisition of humanistic culture ; when acquired, it bore fruit, not only in more elegant scholarship; but also in new forms of poetry and prose for tha people. A third marked feature of the period is the estabhsh- II Q 226 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY ment of the printing press. The energy wherewith in Uttle more than fifty years the texts of the classic authors were rendered indestructible by accident or time, and placed within the reach of students throughout Europe, demands particular attention in this chapter. Florence is stiU the capital of learning. The most bril liant humanists, gathered round the person of Lorenzo de' Medici, give laws to the rest of Italy, determining by their tastes and studies the tone of inteUectual society. Lorenzo is himself in so deep and true a sense the master spirit of this circle, that to describe his position in the repubhc wUl hardly be considered a digression. Before his death in 1464 Cosimo de' Medici had succeeded in rendering his family necessary to the State of Florence. Though thwarted by ambitious rivals and hampered by the intrigues of the party he had formed to rule the common wealth, Cosimo contrived so to complicate the pubhc finances with his own banking business, and so to bind the leading burghers to himself by various obhgations, that, whUe he in no way affected the style of a despot, Florence belonged to his house more surely than Bologna to the BentivogU. For the continuation of this authority, based on intrigue and cemented by corruption, it was absolutely needful that the spirit of Cosimo should survive in his successors. A single false move, by unmasking the tyranny so carefuUy veUed, by offending the republican vanities of the Florentines, or by employing force where everything had hitherto been gained by craft, would at this epoch have destroyed the prospects of the Medicean family. So true it is that the history of this age in Italy is not the history of commonwealths so much as the history of individualities, of men. The principles reduced to rule by Machiavelli in his essay on the Prince may be studied in the lives of fifteenth-century adventurers, who, like Cesare Borgia, discerned the necessity of using violence for special THE MEDICI 22' ends, or, hke the Medici, perceived that sovereignty could be better grasped by a hand gloved with velvet than mailed in steel. The Medici of both branches displayed through eight successive generations, in then- general Une of policy, in the disasters that attended their divergence from it, and in the means they used to rehabUitate their influence, the action of what Balzac calls I'homme politique, with striking clearness to the philosophic student. Both the son and grandson of Cosimo well understood the part they had to play, and played it so ably that even the errors of the younger Piero, the genius of Savonarola, and the failure of the elder Medicean line were insufficient to check the gradual subjugation of the commonwealth he had initiated. Lorenzo's father, Piero, called by the Florentines II Gottoso, suffered much from Ul-health, and was unable to take the lead in pohtics.1 Yet the powers entrusted to his father were confirmed for him. The elections remained in the hands of the Medicean party, and the balia appointed in their favour continued to control the State. The dangerous conspiracy against Piero's Ufe, engaged in by Luca Pitti and Diotisalvi Neroni, proved that his enemies regarded the chief of the Medici as the leader of the repubUc. It was due to the prudent action of the young Lorenzo that this conspiracy failed ; and the Medici were even strengthened by the downfall of their foes. From the tone of the congratulations addressed on this 1 It may be useful to add a, skeleton pedigree of the Medici in this place : — Cosimo, Pater Patrise I Piero, II Gottoso Lorenzo Giuliano Giulio, Clement VII. Piero, Giovanni, tke exile Leo X. o 2 228 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY occasion by the ruling powers of Italy to Piero and Lorenzo, we may conclude that they were already reckoned as princes outside Florence, though they stUl maintained a burgherlike simplicity of life within the city waUs. In the marriage of his son Lorenzo to Clarice degli Orsini, of the princely Eoman house, Piero gave signs of a departure from the cautious poUcy of Cosimo. Foreign alliances were regarded with suspicion by the Florentines, and Pandolfini's advice to his sons, that they should avoid famiharity with territorial magnates, exactly represented the spirit of the republic.1 In like manner, the education of both Lorenzo and Giuliano, their intercourse with royal guests, and the prominent places assigned them on occasions of ceremony, indicated an advance toward despotism. It was concordant with the manners of the age that one family should play the part of host for the republic. The discharge of this duty by the Medici aroused no jealousy among the burghers ; yet it enabled the ambitious house to place themselves in an unique position, and, while seeming to remain mere citizens, to take a step in the direction of sovereignty. On the death of Piero, in 1469, the chief men of the Medi cean party waited upon Lorenzo, and, after offering their condolences, besought him to succeed his father in the presi dency of the State. The feeling prevailed among the leaders of the city that it was impossible, under the existing conditions of Italian politics, to carry on the commonwealth without a titular head. Lorenzo, then in his twenty-second year, entered thus upon the poUtical career in the course of which he not only maintained a balance of power in Italy, but also remodelled the internal government of Florence in the interests of his famUy, and further strengthened their position by esta blishing connections with the Papal See. While bending all the faculties of his powefrul and subtle inteUect to the one See Vol. I., Age of tlie Despots, p. 190. POSITION OF LORENZO 229 end of consolidating a tyranny, Lorenzo was far too wise to assume the bearing of a despot. He conversed familiarly with the citizens, encouraged artists and scholars to address him on terms of equality, and was careful to adopt no titles. His personal temperament made the task of being in effect a sovereign, whUe he acted Uke a citizen, comparatively easy, his chief difficulties arose from the necessity under which he laboured, Uke his grandfather Cosimo, of governing through a party composed of men distinguished by birth and abihty, and powerful by wealth and connections. To keep this party in good temper, to flatter its members with the show of influence, and to gain their concurrence for the alterations he introduced into the State machinery of Florence, was the problem of his life. By creating a body of clients, bound to himseU by diverse interests and obligations, he succeeded in bridling the Medicean party and excluding from offices of trust all dangerous and disaffected persons. The goodwiU of the city at large was secured by the prosperity at home and peace abroad which marked the last fourteen years of his administration, whUe the splendour of his foreign alliances contributed in no small measure to his popularity. The Florentines were proud of a citizen who brought them into the first rank of Italian Powers, and who refrained from assuming the style of sovereign. Thus Lorenzo solved the most difficult of poUtical problems— that of using a close ohgarchy for the maintenance of despotism in a free and jealous commonwealth. None of his rivals retained power enough to withhold the sceptre from his sons when they should seek to grasp it. The roots of the Medici clung to no one part of Florence in particular. They seemed superficial ; yet they crept beneath the ground in aU directions. Intertwined as they were with every interest both pubUc and private in the city, to cut them out impUed the excision of some vital member, 230 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY This was the secret of their power in the next generation, when, banished and reduced to bastards, the Medici returned from two exiles, survived the perils of the siege and Alessan dro's murder, and finaUy assumed the Ducal crown in the person of the last scion of their younger branch. The policy, so persistently pursued for generations, so powerfuUy applied by Lorenzo, might be compared to the attack of an octopus, which fastens on its victim by a multitude of tiny tentacles, and waits till he is drained of strength before it shoots its beak into a vital spot. In one point Lorenzo was inferior to his grandfather. He had no commercial talent. After suffering the banking business of the Medici to faU into disorder, he became vir tually bankrupt, while his personal expenditure kept con tinuaUy increasing. In order to retrieve his fortunes it was necessary for him to gain complete disposal of the public purse. This was the real object of the constitutional revo lution of 1480, whereby his Privy Council assumed the active functions of the State. Had Lorenzo been as great in finance as in the management of men, the way might have been smoothed for his son Piero in the disastrous year of 1494. If Lorenzo neglected the pursuit of wealth, whereby Cosimo had raised himself from insignificance to the dictator ship of Florence, he surpassed his grandfather in the use he made of Uterary patronage. It is not paradoxical to affirm that in his pohcy we can trace the subordination of a genuine love of arts and letters to statecraft. The new culture was one of the instruments that helped to build his despotism. Through his thorough and enthusiastic participation in the intellectual interests of his age, he put himself into close sympathy with the Florentines, who were glad to acknow ledge for their leader by far the ablest of the men of parts in Italy. According as we choose our point of view, we may regard him either as a tyrant, involving his country in debt TWO VIEWS OF LORENZO'S CHARACTER 231 and dangerous wars, corrupting the morals and enfeebling the spirit of the people, and systematically enslaving the Athens of the modern world for the sake of founding a petty principality ; or else as the most Uberal-minded noble of his epoch, born to play the first part in the Florentine republic, and careful to use his wealth and influence for the advance ment of his fellow-citizens in culture, learning, arts, amenities of life. Savonarola and the Florentine historians adopt the former of these two opinions. Sismondi, in his passion for liberty, arrays against Lorenzo the political assassinations he permitted, the enervation of Florence, the national debt incurred by the republic, the exhausting wars with Sixtus carried on in his defence. His panegyrists, on the contrary, love to paint him as the pacificator of Italy, the restorer of Florentine poetry, the profound critic, and the generous patron. The truth Ues hi the combination of these two apparently contradictory judgments. Lorenzo was the repre sentative man of his nation at a moment when political institutions were everywhere inclining to despotism, and when the spiritual Ufe of the ItaUans found its noblest ex pression in art and Uterature. The principality of Florence was thrust upon him by the policy of Cosimo, by the vote of the chief citizens, and by the example of the sister republics, aU of whom, with the exception of Venice, submitted to the sway of rulers. Had he wished, he might have found it difficult to preserve the commonwealth in its integrity. Few but doctrinaires beUeved in a governo misto ; only aristocrats desired a governo stretto ; aU but democrats dreaded a governo largo. And yet a new constitution must have been framed after one of these types, and the Florentines must have been educated to use it with discretion, before Lorenzo could have resigned his office of dictator with any prospect of freedom for the city in his charge. Such unselfish patriotism, in the face of such overwhelming difficulties, and 2S2 RENAISSANCE IN ITALY in antagonism to the whole tendency of the age, was not to be expected from an oligarch of the Eenaissance, born in the purple, and used from infancy to intrigue. Lorenzo was a man of marvellous variety and range of mental power. He possessed One of those rare natures, fitted to comprehend aU knowledge and to sympathise with the most diverse forms of Ufe. WhUe he never for one moment relaxed his grasp on politics, among phUosophers he passed for a sage, among men of letters for an original and graceful poet, among scholars for a Grecian sensitive to every nicety of Attic idiom, among artists for an amateur gifted with refined discernment and consummate taste. Pleasure-seekers knew in him the Ubertine, who jousted with the boldest, danced and masqueraded with the merriest, sought adven tures in the streets at night, and joined the people in their May-day games and Carnival festivities. The pious extoUed him as an author of devotional lauds and mystery plays, a profound theologian, a critic of sermons. He was no less famous for his jokes and repartees than for his pithy apo phthegms and maxims, as good a judge of cattle as of statues, as much at home in the bosom of his famUy as in the riot of an orgy, as ready to discourse on Plato as to plan a campaign or to plot the death of a dangerous citizen. An apologist may always plead that Lorenzo was the epitome of his nation's most distinguished qualities, that the versatility of the Eenaissance found in him its fullest incarnation. It was the duty of Italy in the fifteenth century not to establish rehgious or constitutional liberty, but to resuscitate culture. Before the disastrous wars of invasion had begun, it might well have seemed even to patriots as though Florence needed a Mascenas more than a Camillus. Therefore the prince who in his own person combined all accompUshments, who knew by sympathy and counsel how to stimulate the genius of men superior to himself in special arts and sciences, who spent LORENZO'S VERSATILITY 28S his fortune lavishly on works of pubhc usefulness, whose palace formed the raUying-point of wit and learning, whose councU chamber was the school of statesmen, who expressed his age in every word and every act, in his vices and his virtues, his crimes and generous deeds, cannot be fairly judged by an abstract standard of repubhcan morality. It is nevertheless true that Lorenzo enfeebled and enslaved Florence. At his death he left her sociaUy more dissolute, politically weaker, intellectuaUy more Uke himself, than he had found her. He had not the greatness to rise above the spirit of his century, or to make himself the Pericles instead of the Pisistratus of his republic. In other words, he was adequate, not superior, to Eenaissance Italy. This, then, was the man round whom the greatest scholars of the third period assembled, at whose table sat Angelo PoUziano, Cristoforo Landino, Marsilio Ficino, Gio vanni Pico deUa Mirandola, Leo Battista Alberti, Michael Angelo Buonarroti, Luigi Pulci. The mere enumeration of these names suffices to awake a crowd of memories in the mind of those to whom ItaUan art and poetry are dear. Lorenzo's vUlas, where this briUiant circle met for grave dis course or social converse, heightening the sober pleasures of Itahan country life with aU that wit and learning could produce of delicate and rare, have been so often sung by poets and celebrated by historians that Careggi, Caffagiolo, and Poggio a Cajano are no less familiar to us than the studious shades of Academe. 'In a villa overhanging the towers of Florence,' writes the austere HaUam, moved to more than usual eloquence by the spirit-stirring beauty of his theme, ' on the steep slope of that lofty hill crowned by the mother city, the ancient Fiesole, in gardens which TuUy might have envied, with Ficino, Landino, and Pohtian at his side, he delighted his hours of leisure with the beautiful visions of Platonic philosophy, for which the summer stUl- 234 EENAISSANCE