Chapter XII: Part 12

Machiavelli was sent by them just before the cardinals entered into conclave--where, without hesitation or a dissentient voice, they elected Julian da Rovera, cardinal of San Pietro in Vincola, who assumed the name of Julius II. This prelate had been all his life at open enmity with Alexander VI.: his disposition was ambitious, restless, fiery, and obstinate; and during the struggles against the papal power in which he had been engaged all his life, he had offended many, and excited the hatred of a number of powerful persons. Above all, it was to be supposed that Cæsar Borgia would oppose him; and he exercised great influence over the Spanish cardinals. But the duke had to contend with much adversity, so that he had but a choice of evils before him. During this interval, even Romagna had fallen from him, with the exception of its fortresses, of which he possessed the keys. Julian da Rovera made him large promises; and in an age when duplicity flourished far and wide, he had been celebrated for his veracity and good faith; even his old enemy, Alexander VI., declared that the cardinal di San Pietro in Vincola was sincere and trusty.

As soon as the new pope was elected, it was projected to send Borgia with an army to Romagna, to conquer it in the name of the holy see. Machiavelli had frequent interviews with the fallen prince at this time, and appears to have thrown off that admiration which his success and spirit had formerly inspired; and he testifies no sympathy or regret in his misfortunes. Borgia complained of the little friendship shown him by Florence; and declared that he would relinquish every other hope, for the sake of attacking and ruining the republic. The secretary reports his angry expressions to his government, and adds the words of cardinal d'Amboise, who exclaimed that "God, who never left any crime unpunished, would not let this man escape with impunity!"

The career of this bad hero was now drawing to a close. In the month of November, he set out in the middle of the night for Ostia, to the great satisfaction of all Rome, for the purpose of embarking for Spezia, with a troop of five hundred men, and then of proceeding to Romagna. But the pope, who had hitherto given no mark of an intention to break his promises, suddenly determined to violate that good faith which had formerly adorned his character, and sent the Tuscan cardinal of Volterra (who was of course Borgia's hitter enemy) after him, to demand an order to the officers who held the castles in Romagna, that they should be given into the pope's hands. Borgia refused to comply with a requisition which deprived him of the last remnant of his power; on which he was arrested and placed on hoard a French galley. "It is not yet known," Machiavelli writes to his government on the 26th of November, "whether the duke is still on hoard the vessel, or brought here. Various things are reported. One person told me that, being yesterday evening in the pope's chamber, two men arrived from Ostia, when he was immediately dismissed; but, while in the next room, he overheard these men say that the duke had been thrown into the Tiber, as the pope had commanded.[123] I do not quite believe in this story, but I do not deny it; and, I dare say, if it has not already happened, it will happen. The pope, it is evident, is beginning to pay his debts honourably, and cancels them with a stroke of his pen. Every one, however, blesses this deed; and the more he does of the like, the more popular will he be. Since the duke is taken, whether he be alive or dead, no account need be made of him. Nevertheless, when I hear any thing certain, you shall have intelligence."

The pope, however, had not yet learnt wholly to despise the force of promises and oaths. Borgia was brought back to the Vatican, and treated honourably. It was supposed at one time that he would be proceeded against legally: and Machiavelli several times pressed his government to send him the papers necessary to institute any accusation on their part. At length, the duke gave the order to his castellans to surrender the fortresses in question to the pope, and was set at liberty. He instantly repaired to Naples, possessed of nothing more than a sum of money which he had deposited with the Genoese bankers, but happy in having recovered his personal freedom. His ambitious mind quickly conceived new schemes; and he tried to persuade the Spanish general at Naples, Consalvo, to assist him in his project of throwing himself into Pisa, and of defending it against Florence. Consalvo listened and temporised, till he received the directions of his sovereign, which he immediately obeyed. In conformity with these, Borgia was arrested and sent on board a galley, which conveyed him to Spain. On his arrival, he was confined in the fortress of Medina del Campo, there to remain during his life. He continued a prisoner, however, for two years only. In 1506, with great audacity and labour, he let himself down from the castle by a rope, and fled to the court of John king of Navarre, who was his wife's brother; where he lived for some years in a humble state, the king of France having confiscated his duchy of Valence, and forbidding him to enter France. Finally, having gone out with the forces of the king of Navarre to attack Viana, an insignificant castle of that kingdom, he was surprised by an ambush, and killed.

We have anticipated a little, to conclude the history of this man, who figures so prominently in Machiavelli's writings, and now return to the secretary himself. We have not space to dilate with the same minuteness on his succeeding embassies; and there is nothing in them of peculiar interest. His letters are always full of keen observation; and show him to have been sagacious, faithful, and diligent. The republic kept him actively employed; and the end of one legation was the beginning of another. [Sidenote: 1504. Ætat. 35.] He left Rome, after Borgia's arrest, in December; and, in the January following, went to France, to ask the protection of Louis against the dangers which Florence imagined to threaten them from the Spanish army at Naples. [Sidenote: 1505. Ætat. 36.] A peace, concluded between France and Spain, dissipated these fears; and the secretary, after a month's residence at Lyons, returned to his own country. After this, he was sent on four insignificant mission to Piombino, Perugia, Mantua, and Siena. His next employment was to raise troops in the Florentine territories.

[Sidenote: 1506. Ætat. 37.]

Machiavelli was too clear-sighted and well-judging, not to perceive the various and great evils that resulted from the republic engaging condottieri to fight its battles. He endeavoured to impress upon the signoria the advantages that would arise from the formation of a native militia; and, at length, succeeded. A law was passed for the enrolling the peasantry, and he was charged with the execution. His proceedings were conducted with patience and industry: his letters contain accounts of the obstacles he met from the prejudices of the people with whom he had to deal, the pains he took to obviate them, and the care he was at to select recruits who might be depended on.

Pope Julius, at this time, had conceived the project of reducing to obedience to the holy see all those towns which he considered as rightfully belonging to it. He obtained promises of aid from France; demanded it from Florence; and then set out on an expedition against Giovanni Bentivoglio, lord of Bologna. The Florentines were anxious, from economical motives, to defer sending their quota as long as they could; and they delegated their secretary to the court militant of Rome, to make excuses, and to watch over the progress of its arms. Machiavelli joined the court at Cività Castellana, and proceeded with it to Viterbo, Perugia, Urbino, and Imola. [Sidenote: 1506.] His letters during this legation are highly interesting; presenting a lively picture of the violence and impetuosity of Julius II., whose resolute and intelligent countenance Raphael has depicted on canvas in so masterly a manner. When Bentivoglio sent ambassadors to him, he actually scolded them--addressing them in public, and using, as the secretary says, the most angry and venomous expressions. Machiavelli adds: "Every one believes that, if he succeeds with regard to Bologna, he will lose no time in attempting greater things; and it is hoped that Italy will be preserved from him who attempted to devour it (meaning the king of France).--Now, or never." Bentivoglio made some preparations to fortify Bologna; but, on the arrival of troops from France in aid of his enemy, his heart failed him and he entered into a treaty, by which he preserved his private property; and then, with his wife and children, he abandoned the city he had so long reigned over, and took refuge in the duchy of Milan.

It was apprehended, at this time, that the emperor Maximilian would enter Italy with an army; and its various states sent ambassadors to him, to make favourable terms. The emperor had applied to Florence for money; and the republic sent Francesco Vettori to treat concerning the sum. [Sidenote: 1507. Ætat. 38.] They afterwards sent Machiavelli with their ultimatum. Both ambassador and secretary remained some time at Trent, waiting on the imperial court. [Sidenote: 1508. Ætat. 39.] Machiavelli employed himself in making observations on the state of the country, which he reduced to writing, in a brief "Account of Germany," on his return. He had before drawn up a similar account of the state of France.

The favourite object of Florence continued to be the reduction of Pisa. They purchased permission to attack it, from the kings of France and Spain, for a large sum of money. [Sidenote: 1509. Ætat. 40.] They besieged the town, dividing their army into three divisions, which blockaded it on three sides. The camps were each commanded by commissaries; and Machiavelli was sent thither to advise with and assist them. He passed from one camp to the other, to watch over the execution of the measures concerted for the siege; and, at one time, went to Piombino, to meet some deputies from Pisa, to arrange a treaty; but it came to nothing, and he returned to the army. He was much trusted by his government; and one of the commissaries, in writing to the signoria, observes, "Niccolò Machiavelli left us to-day, to review the troops of the other camp. I have directed him to return here, as you order; and I wish for nothing so much as to have him with me."

After a blockade of three months, Pisa surrendered. The Florentine republic behaved with the greatest generosity and humanity, and kept terms faithfully with a people who had injured them deeply, and were now wholly at their mercy.

Late in the same year, Machiavelli was employed to convey to Mantua the money composing a part of the subsidy of Florence to the emperor. After having discharged this office, he was ordered to repair to Verona, "or," as his instructions say, "wherever it seems best, to learn and communicate intelligence of the actual state of affairs. You will diligently write us word of every thing that happens worthy of notice, changing the place of your abode each day." That part of Italy was, at that time, the seat of a cruel and destructive war carried on between the emperor and the republic of Venice.

There existed a great spirit of enmity between Louis XII. and the pope. Julius II. was a violent and implacable man: his former suspicions against the French monarch were changed into excessive hatred. He was animated, also, by the desire of acquiring the glory of liberating Italy from the barbarians.[124] He sent troops against Genoa, which belonged to the king; Florence had been unable to refuse a safe passage for them through their territory: at the same time, fearing that this concession had offended Louis, they despatched Machiavelli to make their excuses. [Sidenote: June, 1510. Ætat. 41.] His letters, during this mission, disclose a curious system of bribery with regard to the ministers of the king. Cardinal d'Amboise had always shown himself friendly towards the republic; but this friendship had been purchased by gold. He died a month before the arrival of the secretary, who writes thus to the signoria:--"I had a long conversation with Alessandro Nasi concerning the donations, that I might understand how I ought to regulate myself with regard to them. He promised the chancellor Robertet and the marshal Chaumont d'Amboise to pay what is due to them, during the ensuing month of August. He told me, that he did not think that the 10,000 ducats, which were sent here for the cardinal d'Amboise, and which were not paid, on account of his death, could be saved for the city, except in one way; which was, by distributing them between the chancellor and marshal, as a portion of what is due to them."

He had an audience with the king at Blois. There was no Florentine ambassador at this time at the French court; Machiavelli was merely an envoy, with his title of secretary: the king, therefore, treated him with little ceremony; but he received him kindly, declaring his belief in the friendship of Florence, but desiring some further proof of it. "Secretary," he said, "I am not at enmity with the pope, nor any one else; but as new friendships and enmities arise each day, I wish your government to declare at once what they will do in my favour: and do you write word to them, that I offer all the forces of this kingdom, and to come in person, to save their state, if necessary."[125]

It was a difficult part for Florence, between France their ancient ally, and the stern vindictive pope. Some time before, during their difficulties, the republic had in some degree changed their form of government, and elected a gonfaloniere or doge for life, instead of changing every year; their choice had fallen on Pietro Soderini, a man of integrity, but feeble and timid. The king of France, pushed to the utmost by the pope, determined to call together a council, to dethrone him. Florence offered him the city of Pisa, for it to be held; and then, terrified by the menaces of Julius II., sent Machiavelli to Louis, to endeavour to recall this offer, but in vain. [Sidenote: 1511. Ætat. 42.] The council met, and the secretary was sent to attend upon it; it came to nothing, however. Only four cardinals met, they were ill treated by the people, discountenanced by the Italian clergy, and dissatisfied with themselves: after holding two sessions at Pisa, they transferred themselves to Milan.

The result of this open attack of Louis upon the power of the pope animated the latter to renewed endeavours to expel the king from Italy: he formed a league with Spain and Venice against the French power, and a disastrous war was the consequence. [Sidenote: 1512. Ætat. 43.] At one time the French obtained a victory at Ravenna, which was detrimental to them, since Gaston de Foix and 10,000 of their bravest soldiers were left on the field of battle. Florence remained neuter during this struggle, but the republic was accused of a secret partiality for France, and its punishment was resolved upon at the diet of Mantua.

The Medici family still hovered round Florence, desirous of reinstating themselves in their ancient seats, and of reassuming the power enjoyed by their forefathers. Piero de' Medici had fallen in the battle of the Gariglano, some years before; he left a son named Lorenzo, and a daughter, Clarice. His brother the cardinal Giovanni had, while he perceived his cause hopeless, quitted Italy, and visited many parts of France and Germany, nor returned to Rome till the elevation of Julius II.: from that time he took an important part in the public affairs of Italy, and was appointed legate during the war. His influence was exerted during the diet of Mantua, and the punishment of Florence was decreed to consist in the overthrow of the existing government, and the restoration of the Medici. The details of the expedition of the allies against the republic are related by Machiavelli in a private letter, which, though highly interesting, is too long to extract.[126] The gonfaloniere Soderini exerted some energy at the commencement of the struggle, but was unable to hold out long. The army, under the command of the viceroy of Naples, entered Tuscany, and taking Prato by assault, massacred its inhabitants without respect for age or sex. The Florentines were alarmed by this cruelty, and resolved to submit. Soderini and his partisans quitted the city and repaired to Siena, and the Medici entered Florence. The cardinal was at their head, accompanied by his younger brother Giuliano, his nephew Lorenzo, son of Piero, and his cousin Julius de' Medici, descended from the brother of Cosmo.

Thus fell a government which Machiavelli had served faithfully for fourteen years. His labours had been great during this period, the honours he enjoyed of no conspicuous nature, and his emoluments were very slender. When on his various missions, he was allowed only a trifling addition to his salary as secretary, which frequently was not commensurate to his increased expenditure, and afforded no room for luxury or display. "It is true," he writes to the signoria from Verona, "that I spend more than the ducat a day that you allow me for my expenses; nevertheless, now, as heretofore, I shall be satisfied with whatever you please to give." There was nothing mercenary in Machiavelli's disposition, and he seems perfectly content with continuing in the office he enjoyed, without rising higher. He went on his legations always in the character of envoy, at such times when the republic thought it best to treat by means of a delegate less costly and of less authority than an ambassador. Thus his letters often ask to be replaced by a minister entrusted with more extensive powers. Evidently, throughout his active career, he had the good of his country only at heart. He was steady, faithful, and industrious: he recommended himself to the powers to whom he was sent by his intelligence and his want, of pretension. Up to the moment of Soderini's exile, he acted for the Gonfaloniere and his council. His last office was to gather the militia together, for the purpose of checking the advance of the viceroy through the passages of the Apennines. He was too late, and his forces were too scanty; for Pietro Soderini, timid and temporising, did not give credit to the extent of danger that menaced him till the last moment. His fear of appearing ambitious, and making himself obnoxious to his fellow citizens, prevented him from taking those resolute measures necessary for his safety: but Machiavelli continued faithful to him, till the moment he quitted the city. Then he turned his eyes to the new government and the Medici, who, though introduced under had auspices, showed no disposition to tyrannise over their fellow-citizens. He was poor, and had a large family; and, though a lover of liberty, was not personally attached to the fallen Gonfaloniere. The forms of government continued the same, and he was still secretary to the Council of Ten. He desired and expected to continue in office, and to exercise functions, which could not be otherwise than beneficial to his country.

His hopes were deceived: he was considered by the Medici as too firm an adherent of the adverse party. He was deprived of his place, and sentenced not to quit for one year the territory of the republic, nor to enter the palace of government. But this was not the end, it was only the beginning, of his disasters. Shortly after, the enemies of the Medici conspired against them: the conspiracy was discovered, and two of the chief among them were beheaded. Machiavelli was supposed to be implicated in the plot: he was thrown into prison, and put to the torture. No confession could be extorted from him, and it is possible that he was entirely innocent of the alleged crime. He was soon after comprised in the act of amnesty published by the new pope. On the death of Julius II., cardinal de' Medici was elevated to the pontifical throne; he assumed the name of Leo X., and signalised his exaltation by this act of clemency. On his liberation Machiavelli wrote to his friend Francesco Vettori, the Florentine ambassador at the papal court, who had exerted himself in his favour, in these terms:--"You have heard from Paolo Vettori that I am come out of prison, to the universal joy of this city. I will not relate the long story of my misfortunes; and will only say, that fate has done her utmost to bring them about; but, thank God, they are at an end. I hope to be safe for the future, partly because I intend to be more cautious, and partly because the times are more liberal and less suspicious."

[Sidenote: 1513. Ætat. 44.]

Francesco Vettori, on hearing of his liberation, had already written, and their letters crossed on the road. "Honoured friend," he wrote, "I have suffered greater grief during these last eight months than I ever endured during the course of my whole life before: but the worst was when I knew that you were arrested, as I feared that, without cause or fault of yours, you would be put to the torture, as was really the case. I am sorry that I could not assist you, as you had a right to expect; but as soon as the pope was created, I asked him no favour except your liberation, which I am glad to find had already taken place. And now, dear friend, I have to entreat you to take heart during this persecution, as you have done on other occasions: and I hope, as things are now tranquil, and their (_the Medici_) good fortune transcends all imagination, that you will soon he permitted to quit Tuscany. If I remain here, I wish you would come to me, for as long a time as you like."

"Rome, 15th of March, 1513.

Machiavelli replies:--

"Your very kind letter has made me forget my past disasters; and although I was convinced of the affection you bore me, yet your letter delighted me. I thank you heartily, and pray God that I may be able to show my gratitude to your advantage. You may derive this pleasure from my misfortunes, that I think well of myself for the courage with which I bore them, so that I feel myself of more value than I before gave myself credit for: and if my masters, the magnificent Giuliano and your Paolo, to whom I owe my life, will raise me from the earth, I think they will hereafter have cause to congratulate themselves. If they will not, I shall live as I have done before; for I was born poor, and I learnt to suffer before I learnt to enjoy. If you remain at Rome, I will spend some time with you, as you advise. All our friends salute you. Every day we assemble at some lady's house, so to recover our strength. Yesterday we went to see the procession in the house of Sandra di Pero, and thus we pass our time during this universal rejoicing, enjoying the remnant of life, which appears to me like a dream. Valete.

"Florence, 18th of March, 1513.

From this time till the end of his life we possess a series of Machiavelli's private correspondence, of the most valuable kind. His chief friend was Vettori, who continued to reside as ambassador at Rome. Some of their letters are long political discussions, which Vettori drew Machiavelli in to write, that he might show them to pope Leo X., and excite him to admire and employ his talents. His endeavours were without success. Machiavelli continued for many years to live in obscurity, sometimes at Florence, sometimes at his country-house at San Casciano, a bathing town among the hills, south of Pisa. His letters from Florence contain the gossip of their acquaintance,--amusing anecdotes that paint the manners, while they give us no exalted idea of the morals, of the Italians of those days. Machiavelli himself had no poetry nor delicacy of imagination: his feelings were impetuous, and his active mind required some passion or pursuit to fill it. He bitterly laments the inaction of his life, and expresses an ardent desire to be employed. Meanwhile, he created occupation for himself; and it is one of the lessons that we may derive from becoming acquainted with the feelings and actions of celebrated men, to learn that this very period, during which Machiavelli repined at the neglect of his contemporaries, and the tranquillity of his life, was that during which his fame took root, and which brought his name down to us. He occupied his leisure in writing those works which have occasioned his immortality. No one would have searched the Florentine archives for his public correspondence, acute and instructive as it is, nor would his private letters now lie before us, if he had not established a name through his other writings. He wrote them to bring himself into present notice, and to show the Medici the worth of that man whom they dishonoured and neglected.

One of his letters from the country to Vettori, is so interesting, and so necessary to the appreciation of his character, that we give it at length:--

"_Tarde non furon mai grazie divine._ Divine favours never come too late. I say this, because it seemed to me that I had, not lost, but mislaid your kindness, you having remained so long without writing to me, that I wondered what might be the cause. Your last of the 23d dissipated my doubts, and I am delighted to find how quietly and regularly you fulfil your office. I advise you to go on thus; for whosoever neglects his own affairs for those of others, injures himself and gets no thanks. As fortune chooses to dispose of our lives, let her alone. Do not exert yourself, but wait till she urges other men to do something, when it will be time for you to come forward, and for me to say. Here I am. I cannot thank you in any way except by giving you an account of my life here; and you may see whether it is worth exchanging for yours.

"I remain at my country house; and since the last events I have not spent in all twenty days in Florence. I have hitherto been killing thrushes. Rising before daylight I prepared my snares, and set off with a bundle of cages at my back, so that I resembled Geta, when he returns from the harbour with Amphytrion's books. I took two or at most seven thrushes each day.[127] Thus passed September, since when, to my great annoyance, this diversion has failed me; and my life has been such as I will now detail. I rise with the sun, and go to a wood of mine, which I am cutting; where I remain a couple of hours, reviewing the work of the past day, and talking with the woodcutters, who are always in trouble either for themselves or their neighbours. I have a thousand entertaining things to tell you, which have happened with regard to this wood[128], between me and Fresino da Panzaro and others, who wanted to buy some of the wood. Frosino sent for several loads without saying a word to me; and on payment wanted to keep back ten livres, which he says he ought to have had from me four years ago, having won it at play, at the house of Antonio Guicciardini. I began to play the devil, and to accuse the carrier of cheating, on which G. Machiavelli interfered, and brought us to agree. When the north wind blew, Battista Guicciardini, Filippo Ginori, Tommaso del Bene, and several other citizens took a load. I promised some to all, and sent one to Tommaso, half of which went to Florence, because he and his wife and children were there to receive it. So, seeing I gained nothing by it, I told the others that I had no more wood, which made them all very angry, especially Battista, who numbers this among other state troubles. When I leave the wood I go to a fountain, where I watch my bird nets with a book in hand; either Dante or Petrarch, or one of the minor Latin poets--Tibullus, Ovid, or one similar. I read the accounts of their loves; I think of my own, and for a while enjoy these thoughts. Then I go to the inn on the road side; I talk with the passers by; ask the news of their villages; I hear many things, and remark on the various tastes and fancies of men. Meanwhile the hour of dinner arrives, and I dine with my family on such food as my poor house and slight patrimony afford. When I have dined, I return to the inn; where I usually find the host, a butcher, a miller, and two kiln men: with these I associate for the rest of the day, playing at cricca and tric-trac. We have a thousand squabbles; angry words are used, often about a farthing, and we wrangle so loudly, that you might hear us at San Casciano. Immersed in this vulgarity, I exhaust my spirits, and give free course to my evil fortune; letting her tread me thus under foot, with the hope that she will at last become ashamed of herself.

"When evening comes I return home, and shut myself up in my study. Before I make my appearance in it, I take off my rustic garb, soiled with mud and dirt, and put on a dress adapted for courts or cities. Thus fitly habited I enter the antique resorts of the ancients; where, being kindly received, I feed on that food which alone is mine, and for which I was born. For an interval of four hours I feel no annoyance; I forget every grief, I neither fear poverty nor death, but am totally immersed. As Dante says, 'No one learns a science unless he remembers what he is taught;' so have I noted down that store of knowledge which I have collected from this conversation; and have composed a little work on princely governments, in which I analyse the subject as deeply as I can, discussing what a principality is; how many kinds there are; in what way they are acquired; how kept; how lost: and if any devise of mine ever pleased you, this will not be displeasing. It ought to be acceptable to princes, and chiefly to a new prince, wherefore I address it to Giuliano de' Medici. Filippo Casavecchia has seen it, and can describe the thing to you, and recount the discussions we have had together about it. I am still adding to and polishing it.

"Your excellency desires that I should leave this place to go and enjoy myself with you. I will do so assuredly; but am detained by some affairs, which will keep me here about seven weeks. The only thing that causes me to hesitate is, that the Soderini are in your town; and I should be obliged to see and visit them; and I should be afraid on my return that, instead of alighting at my own door, I should alight at the gates of the prison; because, although our person here (_Giuliano de' Medici_) has secure foundation, and is fixed, yet he is new and suspicious; and there are not wanting meddling fellows, like Paolo Bertini, who would draw upon others and leave me all the trouble. Preserve me from this fear, and I will certainly come to you.

"I have talked with Philip concerning my little work, whether I shall dedicate it or not; and if I do, whether I shall present it myself, or send it to you. If I do not dedicate it, I fear that Giuliano will not even read it, but that Ardinghelli will get the honour of it. Necessity drives me to present it, for I pine away, and cannot remain long thus without becoming despicable through poverty. I wish these signori Medici would begin to make use of me, even if I commenced by rolling a stone, for if I did not afterwards gain their favour I should despise myself. And, therefore, if this book were read, they would see that, for the fifteen years during which I studied the arts of government, I neither slept nor played; and every one ought to be glad to make use of one who has learned experience at the expense of others. Nor need they doubt my fidelity; for having proved myself trustworthy hitherto, I would not alter now: he who has been faithful for forty-three years, as I have, cannot change his nature; and my poverty is a witness of my honour and disinterestedness.

"I wish you would tell me what you think on these matters, and so farewell.--_Si felix._

"NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI.

"10th of December, 1513."

The expressions in this letter appear sufficiently clear, that he wrote "The Prince," for the purpose of recommending himself to the Medici, and of being employed by them. His sons afterwards declared to our countryman, cardinal Pole, that he alleged, his intention to be, to induce the Medici to render themselves so hateful to Florence, by acting on the maxims he laid down, as to cause them to be exiled anew. There is no trace of this idea in his private correspondence. Giuliano de' Medici was an amiable prince, and he often praises him highly. It is true that his work is dedicated to Lorenzo de' Medici; but this change was occasioned by the death of Giuliano. And even of Lorenzo, who was unpopular. Machiavelli writes thus to Vettori:--"I must give you some account of the proceedings of the Magnifico Lorenzo, which have hitherto been such as to fill the city with hope; so that every one begins to see his grandfather revived in him. He is diligent and affable, and causes himself to be loved and respected, rather than feared." Nor can it be believed that Machiavelli was so devoid of understanding, as to fancy that he could dupe men as intelligent as Leo X. and cardinal Julius, who were the heads of the family, by so barefaced an artifice. Besides that, the authority of the Medici was maintained by foreign arms, and the citizens were already very willing to get rid of them, as was proved a very few years after. Yet his real intentions form a question, perhaps, never to be decided. On one hand, the treatise is so broad and unplausible in its recommendations, that it is difficult to suppose him in earnest; and, on the other, it is so dry, and has in so small a degree the air of irony, that it can scarcely be regarded as a satire. If it is, it is ill done, since men have not yet agreed whether it is one or not.

Let us turn to the work itself, however, and present some analysis of a treatise which has been the subject of so much disquisition. Machiavelli, in the letter given above, professes to have written his book for the instruction of new princes,--_principi nuovi_,--sovereigns lately raised to power. Italy was then divided into small states, governed by a variety of lords. Sometimes one among them endeavoured, like Cæsar Borgia, to conquer a number of these, and to unite them into one state. Machiavelli taught how a prince thus situated might acquire and confirm his power. He adduces the example of the Duke of Valence, saying, "He does not know how to give better precepts to a new sovereign than those afforded by a view of Borgia's conduct." [129] He describes the course of his policy, applauds the perfidy with which he destroyed the confederates of Magione, and holds up the death of Ramiro d' Oreo as a laudable proceeding. He allows, that perseverance in cruelty on the part of a prince becomes unendurable. "And, therefore," he says, "a prince should determine to execute all his acts of blood at once, so that he may not be obliged each day to renew them; but give security to his subjects, and gain them by benefits. Injuries ought to be done at once, because thus they are less felt, and offend less; but benefits ought to be bestowed gradually, that they may produce a profounder impression."

The reader may judge whether this maxim is sagacious, and seriously enjoined; or mischievous, and therefore brought forward with sinister and sarcastic motives.

The first fourteen chapters are taken up by considering the various modes by which a prince acquires power--either by force of arms, or the favour of the citizens; being imposed on them by the aristocracy, or raised by the affection of the people. In the course of these considerations he remarks (chap, V.), that "he who becomes master of a city habituated to freedom, and does not destroy it, must expect to be destroyed by it; because it will, in every rebellion, take refuge in the name of liberty and its ancient rights, the memory of which can never be extinguished by time or benefits." The fifteenth chapter is headed,--"Concerning those things for which men, and principally sovereigns are praised or blamed." He begins by saying,--"It now remains to be seen what government and treatment a prince ought to observe with his subjects and friends. I know many people have written on this topic; and I expect, therefore, to be accused of presumption, in differing from the opinions of others in my view of the subject. But, it being my intention to write what is useful to those who rule, it appears to me better to follow up the truth of things, than to bring forward imaginary ideas." He adds, "A man who, instead of acting for the best, acts as he ought, seeks rather his ruin than his preservation. For he who resolves on all occasions to adhere to what is virtuous, must be destroyed by the many who are not virtuous. Hence it is necessary that a prince, who would maintain his power, should learn not to be virtuous, but to adapt the morality of his actions to the dictates of necessity." He then enumerates the good and bad qualities for which sovereigns are distinguished, and adds:--"I know that every one will confess that it would he laudable for a prince to possess all the above-mentioned qualities, which are considered virtuous; but human nature does not allow of this. It is necessary, however, that he should be prudent, and avoid the infamy of those vices which would deprive him of power; and it would be well if he avoided the others also, if it were possible; but if it be not possible, he may yield to them with less danger. And also he must not hesitate to incur the reputation of those vices, through which his government may be preserved; for, on deep consideration, it will be found that there is a line of conduct which appears right, but which leads to ruin: and there is another which appears vicious, but from which security and prosperity flow."

And this is what is called Machiavelian policy.

He goes on to show, that generosity, which is supported by extortion, must injure a prince more than parsimony, which makes no demands on the subject; he therefore advises a prince to gain a character for liberality, rather by being prodigal of the wealth of others than his own. "For," he says, "nothing consumes itself so much as liberality; for while you use it, you lose your power of so doing, and you become poor and despicable; or, to escape from poverty, grow rapacious and odious. A prince ought carefully to guard against becoming odious and contemptible: and liberality is one of the good qualities most likely to lead to this result, and therefore to be avoided."

He then treats of "Cruelty and clemency, and whether it is better to be feared or loved." He says;--"Every sovereign ought to desire to be esteemed merciful, and not cruel. Nevertheless, he ought to take care to what use he puts his mercy. Cæsar Borgia was considered cruel; nevertheless his cruelty subdued Romagna, and united it, and reduced it to peace and obedience. A prince, therefore, ought not to fear the reputation of cruelty, if by it he preserves his subjects tranquil and faithful. A few examples will be more merciful than tolerating disorders, through a compassion, which gives rise to assassinations and disturbances; for these injure the community, while the execution of offenders is injurious to individuals only." He then enters on a discussion of whether it is better for a prince to be loved or feared. He decides for the latter; for, he says, "Love is a duty, which, as men are wicked, is continually transgressed; but fear arises from the dread of punishment, which is never lost sight of." Nothing can be more false than this. Men like to be benefited even more than they dislike being injured; and love is a more universal passion than terror. He continues, "Still a prince, while he seeks to be feared, must avoid being hated--for fear is very distinct from hatred. And he ought always to avoid seizing on the goods of his subjects. He may, as far as is justified by the cause given, proceed against the life of an individual; but let him not touch the possessions. For men more easily forget the death of a father than the loss of patrimony." After stating this diabolical and false maxim in all its native deformity, he proceeds to consider the propriety of a sovereign's preserving his good faith: remarking, that though good faith and integrity are praiseworthy in a prince, experience in his own time shows those statesmen to have achieved the greatest things, who held truth in small esteem:--"For there are two ways of acting,--one by law and the other by force; the one for men, the other for animals; but when the first does not succeed, it is necessary to have recourse to the second; and a sovereign ought to know how to put the animal man to good use. A prudent prince cannot and ought not to observe faith, when such observance would injure him, or the occasions for which he pledged himself are at an end. A sovereign, therefore, need not possess all the virtues I have mentioned; but it is necessary that he should appear so to do. A prince cannot always practise the qualities which are esteemed good, being often obliged to maintain his power by acting against the dictates of humanity and religion. He must act conscientiously when he can; but when obliged, he ought to be capable of doing ill. A prince ought to take great care not to say a word that is not animated by good feeling, and he ought to appear full of pity, integrity, humanity, and religion; and there is nothing so necessary as that he should appear to attend to the last. Every one sees what you seem; few know what you are." Very false, notwithstanding its plausibility: children even have an instinct for detecting false appearances.

He tells princes to cherish the affections of the people; as, he says, if loved by his subjects, he need fear no conspiracy; but, hated by them, he has every thing to dread. He avers, also, that it is easier for a newly raised prince to make friends of those who opposed him, than to preserve the good will of his own partisans. He goes on to give much advice concerning the choice of ministers and courtiers, and concerning the influence of fortune over states; and shows how concord and constancy are the only modes by which a government can preserve itself during the variations of fortune; and that, above all, it is necessary not to submit timidly, but to command her by audacity and resolution.

He concludes by an exhortation to the Italians to drive the barbarians, French, Spaniards, and Germans, from their country. "It appears to me," he says, "considering all things, that there is an admirable opening for a new prince to introduce another state of things into Italy. Does not the whole land pray God to send her some one to free her from the barbarians? And is she not ready to follow any banner, if some one prince would display it? Nor do we see any house from which she can hope so much as yours (_that of Lorenzo de' Medici_) favoured as it is by God and the church; being at the head of which, it may lead us to this redemption. The justice of your cause is great, and the war will be just, and necessary, and pious. God, also, has opened the way for you. The Italians, however, must accustom themselves to the exercise of arms, if they would defend their country from foreign invaders. The infantry of other kingdoms have their defects: the Spaniards cannot stand the impetus of cavalry; the Swiss would fear any infantry which should show itself as strong as themselves. Let the Italians, therefore, form an army of foot that shall possess none of these defects, and which shall be able to resist the shock of both horse and foot; and this must be done by a novel style of command, by introducing which, a new ruler will acquire reputation and power. You ought not, therefore, to lose this opportunity of appearing as the deliverer of Italy. I cannot express with what affection such a one would be received in those provinces which have suffered from the inundation of foreign troops; with what thirst of vengeance, what resolute fidelity; with what piety, and what grateful tears he would be followed. What gates would be shut against him? what people would refuse to render him obedience? what Italian would hesitate to submit to his rule? Every one abhors the authority of the barbarians. Let, therefore, your illustrious house assume this enterprise, animated by that hope which a just cause inspires, so that your country may rise triumphant under your auspices."

There is nothing that is not patriotic and praiseworthy in these exhortations; and they were such, moreover, as were likely to gain the hearts of the Italians. If, therefore, he is previously sarcastic, he is serious here; and the mixture renders still more enigmatic the question of the aim he had in view in this work.

Besides "The Prince," Machiavelli wrote, at this time, his "Essays on the first Decade of Livy." These are considered by their author as his best work; an opinion confirmed by the learned Italians of the present day. They breathe a purely republican spirit, and have for their scope to demonstrate how the greatness of Rome resulted from the equal laws of the commonwealth, and the martial character of its citizens. He dedicated them to his friends Zanobi Buondelmonte, and Cosimo Rucellai, who were the patrons of the academy of the Rucellai gardens, a society set on foot by the father of Cosimo, for the support of the Platonic philosophy, and whose youthful followers were all devoted to liberty.

"The Art of War" was also written at this time, as well as his two comedies, his "Belfegor," and "Life of Castruccio Castracani." The "Belfegor" has laid him open to the supposition that he was not happy in his married life: but there is no foundation for this notion. He was, early in life, married to Marietta Corsini, and had five children. He always mentions his wife with affection and respect in his letters, and gives tokens, in his will, of the perfect confidence he reposed in her. "Belfegor" has always been a popular tale: it is written with great spirit, and possesses the merit of novelty and wit. His comedies are thought highly of by the Italians. The "Mandragola," licentious as it is, was a great favourite. Leo X. caused the actors and scenic decorations to be brought from Florence to Rome, that he might see it represented; and Guicciardini invited the author to come to get it up at Modena, and tells him to bring with him a favourite singer and actress, named La Barbara, to give it more effect: so early in Italian history do we find mention of prime donne, and of the court paid to them.

But all this diligent authorship did not satisfy the active mind of Machiavelli: he tried to school himself to content, and says, in one of his letters to Vettori, "I am arrived at not desiring any thing again with passion." But this was a deceit which he practised on himself. "If I saw you," he writes again to his friend, "I should fill your head with castles in the air; because fortune has so arranged, that, not being able to discourse concerning the silk trade, nor the woollen trade, nor of gains nor losses, I must talk of the art of government."--"While I read and re-read your disquisitions on politics, I forget my adversity, and appear to have entered again on those public affairs, in prosecuting which I vainly endured so much fatigue, and spent so much time."

The endeavours of Vettori, who was attached to the Medici, to gain favour for his friend with Leo X., were long ineffectual; and Machiavelli showed symptoms of despair. [Sidenote: 1514. Ætat. 45.] "It seems," he writes, "that I am to continue in my hole, without finding a man who will remember my services, or believe that I can be good for any thing. It is impossible that I can remain long thus. I pine away; and see that, if God will not be more favourable to me, I shall be obliged to leave my home, and become secretary to some petty officer, if I can do nothing else; or exile myself into some desert to teach children to read. I shall feign that I am dead; and my family will get on much better without me; as I am the cause of expense--being accustomed to spend, and unable to do otherwise. I do not write this to induce you to take trouble for my sake; but to ease my mind, so as not to recur again to so odious a subject."

Yet all his letters are not complaining. The spirit of "Belfegor" and "La Mandragola" animates many of them. "We are now grave," he writes, "and now frivolous; but we ought not to be blamed for this variety, as in it we imitate nature, which is full of change."

[Sidenote: 1519. Ætat. 50.]

The first use to which the Medici put him, was when Leo X. had placed the cardinal Julius over Florence, and washed to remodel the government. He addressed himself to Machiavelli for his advice; and the latter wrote, in reply, his "Essay on the Reform of the Government of Florence, Written at the request of Leo X." Soon after Leo died, and the cardinal Julius expected to have been elected pope. He was disappointed, and returned to Florence to confirm his authority. The death of Leo awakened the hopes of the opposite party; and a conspiracy was at this juncture entered into by the nephew of the gonfaloniere Soderini and the young philosophers of the Rucellai, to expel the Medici. It was discovered; two ringleaders were put to death, and the rest fled.

Sismondi hastily assumes the fact, that Machiavelli was implicated in this plot; but, on the contrary, there seems every proof that he took no part in it whatever; and at this very time he was again employed by the reigning powers. [Sidenote: 1521. Ætat. 52.] The Minor Friars were assembled in chapter at Carpi, in the duchy of Modena. The government of Florence wished to obtain from them, that their republic should be formed by their order, into a distinct province, separated from the rest of Tuscany. At the instance of cardinal Julius, Machiavelli was charged with this negotiation. A few days after his arrival at Carpi, the council of the company of the woollen trade commissioned him to procure a good preacher for the metropolitan church at Florence, during the ensuing Lent. His letters to his employers, on these occasions, are as serious and methodical as during any other legation; but in his heart he disdained the petty occupation. His friend Francesco Guicciardini, the celebrated historian, was then governor of Modena; and several amusing letters passed between them while Machiavelli was at Carpi. Guicciardini writes: "When I read your titles of ambassador to republics and friars, and consider the number of kings and princes with whom you have formerly negotiated, I am reminded of Lysander, who, after so many victories, had the office of distributing provisions to the army he had formerly commanded; and I say that, though the aspects of men, and the exterior appearances of things, are changed, the same circumstances perpetually return, and we witness no event that did not take place in times gone by."