Chapter X: Part 10

So great was the estimation in which he was held by his fellow-citizens, that when his death was announced, the administrators of the government charged three members of the council of ten to conduct his funeral rites with the most solemn magnificence at the public expense.[353] In order to express in the most signal manner their respect for the memory of the deceased, they also determined publicly to decorate his remains with a laurel crown. The rare occurrence of this testimony of honour (of the conferring of which only three instances had hitherto occurred in the long series of the Florentine annals)[354] rendered it the more illustrious. In pursuance of the orders of the magistrates, the body of Leonardo arrayed in silken robes was carried in an open coffin to the public square of the city. On his breast was laid, as a memorial of his patriotism, his history of the Florentine Republic. The funeral procession was attended by all the officers of state, except the Gonfaloniere, by the embassadors of foreign princes who happened at this time to reside in Florence, by a considerable number of learned men, and by an immense concourse of the citizens, who were not more attracted by the novelty of the ceremony, than by their respectful remembrance of the virtues of Leonardo. In the presence of this august assembly Gianozzo Manetti advanced to the head of the bier, and there pronounced a funeral oration in praise of the deceased, towards the conclusion of which he fulfilled the decree of the magistracy, by crowning him with the laurel wreath. The friends of Leonardo whose judgment was enlightened by the principles of true taste, must have lamented that the task of celebrating his virtues was delegated to Gianozzo Manetti. The speech which he pronounced on this occasion is a most miserable composition, abounding in puerilities, vulgar in its style, irrelevant in its topics, and most tediously diffuse.[355] It is highly probable, that the vexation experienced by Poggio, on seeing the memory of his beloved friend thus disgraced by the folly of his panegyrist, induced him to endeavour to supersede the wretched effusion of Gianozzo by a composition more worthy of the lamented subject of the public grief. However this may be, certain it is, that the funeral oration which he published on this melancholy occasion affords a striking contrast to that which wearied the ears of the learned men who attended the obsequies of Leonardo. It is at once dignified and pathetic. Lucid in its arrangement, and well proportioned in the distribution of its parts, it is a monument of the sound judgment of its author. The account which it contains of the life and writings of Leonardo is succinct and clear. In his delineation of the moral portraiture of that extraordinary man, Poggio evinces a distinctness of perception, and an accuracy of discrimination, which are highly honourable to his understanding; whilst the delicacy with which he softens down the faulty features of Leonardo’s character, attests the warmth of his affection for the beloved depository of his most secret thoughts.[356]

Leonardo Aretino was perhaps the ablest scholar of his age. He took the lead amongst the industrious students who unlocked the secret treasures of literature by the translation of the works of the Grecian authors. His Latin style is less encumbered with faults than that of any of his contemporaries. Æneas Sylvius indeed declared it as his opinion, that next to Lactantius he approached the nearest of any of the later writers to the elegance of Cicero. The compositions of that celebrated orator do not, however, seem to have been adopted by Leonardo as his model. At least he did not in his writings attain the copious fluency, or the graceful ease of diction which distinguish the works of Cicero. But the luminous distinctness of his periods entitles him to no small commendation. His sentences are never embarrassed or confused. He conveys his meaning in few words, and does not fatigue his readers by unreasonably dwelling upon his topics, or by repeating the same idea in varied forms of expression. Hence, if his language is not polished to an exquisite smoothness, it is sufficiently precise, and its deficiency in melody is compensated by its strength.

At his outset in life, Leonardo had to struggle with the embarrassments incident to a very contracted fortune, and was compelled by necessity to practise the strictest economy. By the liberality of John XXII. however, he acquired an increase of property which eventually became the foundation of a very ample fortune. As man is the slave of habit, he retained, in the midst of abundance, the attention to the minutiæ of expence which was a duty imperiously incumbent upon him in the days of his poverty; and his prudent exactitude sometimes approached the confines of avarice.[357] He was also impatient in his temper, and too apt to take offence.[358] The following anecdote however shews, that if he was easily excited to anger, he had the good sense to be soon convinced of his error, and the ingenuousness of spirit to confess it. Having engaged in a literary discussion with Gianozzo Manetti, he was so exasperated by observing that the bye-standers thought him worsted in argument, that he vented his spleen in outrageous expressions against his antagonist. On the following morning, however, by break of day, he went to the house of Gianozzo, who expressed his surprise, that a person of Leonardo’s dignity should condescend to honour him so far as to pay him an unsolicited visit. On this Leonardo requested that Gianozzo would favour him with a private conference. Gianozzo accordingly attended him to the banks of the Arno, when Leonardo thus apologized for the warmth of his temper.—“Yesterday I did you great injustice; but I soon began to suffer punishment for my offence; for I have not closed my eyes during the whole night; and I could not rest till I had made you a confession of my fault.”[359] The man who by the voluntary acknowledgment of an error could thus frankly throw himself upon the generosity of one whom he had offended, must have possessed in his own mind a fund of honour and probity. The failings of Leonardo were indeed amply counterbalanced by his strict integrity, his guarded temperance, his faithful discharge of his public duties, and his zeal in the cause of literature. This being the case, it was with justice that Poggio prided himself upon the intimate friendship which subsisted between himself and this truly respectable character—a friendship which was not once interrupted during the varied transactions of a period of forty-four years.

The remains of Leonardo were interred in the church of Santa Croce. On a marble monument erected to his memory the following inscription is still legible.

POSTQVAM LEONARDVS E VITA MIGRAVIT
HISTORIA LVGET ELOQUENTIA MVTA EST
FERTVRQVE MVSAS TVM GRAECAS TVM LATINAS
LACRIMAS TENERE NON POTVISSE.

Leonardo was succeeded in the chancellorship of the Florentine republic by Carlo Marsuppini, more commonly known by the surname of Aretino, a scholar no less distinguished by his literary acquirements than by the dignity of his family. Carlo was the son of Gregorio Marsuppini, a nobleman of Arezzo, doctor of laws, and secretary to Charles VI., king of France, by whom he was appointed to the government of Genoa. Educated under the auspices of John of Ravenna, he attained to such a proficiency in learning, that in delivering lectures on rhetoric he became the successful rival of Filelfo in the university of Florence. His literary reputation recommended him to the notice of Eugenius IV., who, in the year 1441, conferred upon him the office of apostolic secretary. This office he continued to hold till the voice of his fellow-citizens summoned him to the discharge of more important duties.[360] The friendly intercourse which had taken place between him and Poggio, in consequence of their being natives of the same place, had been strengthened by their common hostility against Francesco Filelfo. Nor was it interrupted by their separation. Whenever Poggio found leisure to visit the Tuscan capital, he experienced a welcome reception from his ancient associate, in whose instructive converse he found the most pleasing relaxation from the toils of his office, and from the wearisomeness occasionally attendant upon the diligent prosecution of literary studies.[361]

Whilst Poggio was lamenting the irreparable loss which he had sustained by the death of Leonardo Aretino, he received intelligence of the sad catastrophe of his old friend and correspondent, Julian, cardinal of St. Angelo. This zealous churchman, who had been dispatched into Hungary, vested with the office of pontifical legate, had heard with indignation that Ladislaus VI., king of that country, had concluded a truce for ten years with Amurath, emperor of the Turks; and strenuously insisting upon the detestable doctrine, that no faith is to be kept with infidels, he had persuaded the Hungarian monarch treacherously to attack the Mussulmans, who, in reliance on the treaty which had been so lately concluded, had withdrawn their forces into Asia. Justly irritated by this act of perfidy, the Turks rushed to arms, and gave battle to the Hungarians at Varna, a town in Bulgaria. The issue of the day was most disastrous to the Christians. Ladislaus fell in the battle, his forces were routed, and a body of the fugitives, in the course of their flight, overtaking the unfortunate Julian, whose pernicious counsels they considered as the original cause of their present calamities, fell upon him, and despatched him with a multitude of wounds.[362]

The prejudices which Poggio entertained against the professors of Mohamedism, or the partiality of his friendship for the cardinal, rendered him insensible of the atrocity of the crime by which that turbulent ecclesiastic had provoked his fate. From the fragments of an oration which he composed on the occasion of the funeral of Julian, and which are preserved by Mehus in his life of Ambrogio Traversari,[363] he seems to have considered his character as a subject of unqualified praise. The birth of Julian was obscure. He prosecuted his studies, first at Perugia, afterwards at Bologna, and lastly at Padua. When his education was finished, he entered into the household of the cardinal of Piacenza, in whose suite he travelled into Bohemia, where he signalized himself by his acuteness in theological disputation, and by the assiduity of his labours for the conversion of heretics. On his return to Italy, Martin V. rewarded his zeal in the defence of the orthodox faith, by appointing him to the office of auditor of the chamber. He was afterwards sent in quality of nuncio into France and England. Making mention of his residence in the latter country, Poggio asserts that he did there what no one had ever ventured to do before him: in a numerous assembly of prelates, he uttered a vehement invective against the statutes which had been enacted in the parliament, with a view of restraining the authority of the court of Rome, and admonished his auditors to yield obedience to the pope, rather than to the laws of their country: “a proceeding,” says Poggio, “attended with great peril in a land the inhabitants of which were not accustomed to such boldness.” This temerity procured Julian the gift of a cardinal’s hat, which was bestowed upon him by Martin V., immediately on his return from England.[364] His second mission into Bohemia, his pertinacity in summoning and presiding over the council of Basil, and his conversion to the interests of Eugenius, have already passed in review in the course of the present work.

The steady forbearance of Julian in refusing to enrich himself by the acceptance of presents, which Poggio records with enthusiastic applause, is a legitimate subject of commendation—but his zeal in the course of proselytism is an indication of a narrow mind; and the treachery which signalized the last official act of his life fixes on his memory an indelible stain. So base indeed was his conduct on this occasion, that his miserable end may be pointed out as an instance of the signal vengeance which awaits the perfidious violators of solemn treaties.

CHAP. X.

_Sforza deprived of the Marca d’Ancona—Death of Eugenius IV.—Tommaso da Sarzana is elected to the pontificate, and assumes the name of Nicolas V.—State of Italy on the accession of Nicolas V.—Exemplary conduct of that pontiff—Poggio’s inaugural address to Nicolas V.—His dialogues on the Vicissitudes of Fortune, and on Hypocrisy—His invective against the Antipope Felix—His translation of Xenophon’s Cyropædia, and of Diodorus Siculus—His quarrels with George of Trebisond, and Tommaso da Rieti—Celebration of the Jubilee—Publication of Poggio’s Facetiæ—Renewal of hostilities between Poggio and Filelfo—Their reconciliation—Poggio’s Historia disceptativa convivialis—His letter on the study of Law._

CHAP. X.

It has been already observed, that in the year 1443 Eugenius earnestly solicited the king of Naples to assist him in expelling Francesco Sforza from the ecclesiastical territories, the possession of which constituted such a formidable accession to his power. In compliance with the wishes of the pontiff, Alfonso advanced at the head of a considerable army into the Marca d’Ancona, almost the whole of which district he in a short space of time restored to the dominion of the church.[365] [A. D. 1444.] In the course of the ensuing spring, however, Sforza invaded the disputed territory with such vigour and military skill, that he once more compelled the pontiff to confer upon him the feudal sovereignty of all its cities, except Osimo, Recanati, Fabriano, and Ancona.[366] But in the year 1445, Eugenius, having secured the assistance of the duke of Milan and of the king of Naples, again violated his solemn engagements, and declared war against his vassal. The perfidy of the pontiff was at length crowned with success; for by the joint efforts of the allied powers, Sforza was dispossessed of the whole extent of the Marca, except the city of Jesi.[367] Thus had Eugenius the satisfaction of reducing all the territories belonging to the church; Jesi and Bologna being the only cities of the ecclesiastical states which refused to acknowledge his authority. He did not long enjoy the fruit of his anxious deliberations and strenuous exertions. In the commencement of the year 1447 he was seized by a distemper which soon assumed a most serious aspect. In this extremity he continued to manifest that undaunted resolution which was a distinguishing feature of his character, and struggled against his last enemy with all the vigour of an unyielding spirit. His attendants witnessed his fortitude with the highest admiration, and for a time flattered themselves that the strength of his constitution would baffle the power of his disease. When his friends had at length lost all hope of his recovery, the archbishop of Florence gave him intimation of their opinion by preparing to administer to him the rites which are appointed by the Catholic church for the comfort of the dying. But the pontiff indignantly commanded him to forbear his officious interposition. “I am not yet,” said he, “reduced to the last extremity—I will apprize you when my time is come.” This promise he fulfilled, and in a manner which evinced the intrepidity and even cheerfulness with which he foresaw his approaching dissolution. “My friends,” said he to the attendant ecclesiastics, during a pause which occurred in the reading of morning prayers, “when the holy office is finished I will tell you a story.” The devotional exercise being ended, he was reminded of his promise, on which he thus addressed his assembled household.—“A certain Athenian once came forth into the street, and in the midst of a large concourse of people made the following proclamation.—If any one wishes to hang himself on my fig-tree, let him make haste, for I am going to cut it down. In like manner,” said the pontiff, “if my friends wish to solicit from me any favours, they must not delay, for I am sensible that the hour of my departure draws near.” The priest in waiting having informed him that they were going to offer solemn prayers for his recovery—“Pray rather,” said he, “that the Lord’s will may be done; for we often petition for that which is not conducive to our good.” When he was conscious of the near approach of death, he piously participated in the customary ceremonies, and then caused himself to be raised from his bed and conveyed to the chair of St. Peter, where he breathed his last on the twenty-third day of February, 1447.[368]

The funeral eulogium of the deceased pontiff was pronounced by Tommaso da Sarzana, who had lately been promoted by his favour to the bishopric of Bologna, and to the dignity of cardinal. The acquisition of this honour prepared the way for the exaltation of Tommaso to the summit of ecclesiastical preferment. On the sixth of March he was by the unanimous voice of the conclave invested with the pontifical purple, on which occasion he assumed the name of Nicolas V. His biographer, Gianozzo Manetti, asserts, that his advancement to this high dignity was prognosticated to him in the following manner. When the conclave was assembled for the purpose of filling the vacancy which had just occurred in the chair of St. Peter, and Tommaso was sleeping at dead of night in the small chamber allotted to him on that occasion, he dreamt that Eugenius appeared before him arrayed in his pontifical robes, of which he divested himself, and commanded him to put them on; and that on his refusal to comply with this requisition, the deceased pontiff violently enforced his obedience, and invested him with all the insignia of papal authority. Gianozzo seems to intimate, that in this dream there was something præternatural. But a slight acquaintance with the constitution of the human mind would have convinced him, that there is nothing miraculous in the circumstance of a cardinal’s dreaming that his brows are encircled with the tiara.[369]

On his elevation to the chair of St. Peter, Nicolas found the temporalities of the holy see in a lamentable state of disorder. The military enterprizes of Eugenius had exhausted the pontifical treasury; the anarchy to which the long absence of that pontiff from his capital had given rise in the ecclesiastical territories, had impeded the collection of the public revenues; and the schism occasioned by the intemperance of the council of Basil had impaired the spiritual authority of the church.[370] Whilst the unpropitious circumstances which thus attended the commencement of his pontificate affected the mind of Nicolas with well-founded anxiety, his uneasiness was encreased by the contemplation of the distracted state of Italy. The Venetians and the duke of Milan were engaged in an obstinate and bloody contest, which spread devastation through the fertile provinces of Lombardy. Alfonso, king of Naples, having been instigated by Eugenius to declare war against the Florentines, had marched on his way to the Tuscan frontier as far as Tivoli, where his army lay encamped at the time of that pontiff’s death.[371] Justly apprehensive lest the collision of interests which occurs in a period of general warfare should disturb the peace of the pontifical dominions, Nicolas found himself surrounded by difficulties which called into full exercise the extraordinary abilities which he had cultivated with such successful industry. His first object was to remedy the confusion which prevailed in the ecclesiastical states. This object he speedily accomplished by a prudent choice of magistrates, by the establishment of a well-regulated system of internal economy, and by the mildness of a lenient administration of government. At the price of thirty-five thousand florins of gold he purchased from Francesco Sforza the possession of the city of Jesi.[372] The inhabitants of Bologna, influenced by the remembrance of the benevolence which shone conspicuous in his character, whilst he exercised amongst them the episcopal functions, sacrificed their independence to their gratitude, and voluntarily submitted to his authority.[373] The endeavours of Nicolas to inspire the other potentates of Italy with the ardent desire of peace which influenced his own actions were not crowned with equally prompt success. Alfonso proceeded on his march to the Florentine state, which he continued to harrass for the space of three years, at the end of which period he agreed to terms of pacification. The death of Filippo Maria, duke of Milan, which event took place on the thirteenth of August, 1447,[374] exposed his dominions to all the miseries of civil discord. Whilst the king of Naples asserted his title to the ducal crown by virtue of a pretended will, said to have been executed by Filippo during his last illness, Charles, duke of Orleans, maintained his own claim to the inheritance of the sovereignty of the Milanese, in right of his wife, Valentina Visconti, daughter of the late duke, who had died without male issue. As the son-in-law of Filippo, Francesco Sforza also deemed himself justified in aspiring to the throne of Milan.[375] In the mean time the inhabitants of that city, rejecting the pretensions of all the competitors, declared for independence, and instituted a republican form of government. The infant commonwealth was, however, doomed to struggle with unconquerable difficulties. Whilst it was harrassed by the Venetians, its strength was enfeebled by the anarchy of faction. After suffering a variety of calamities in the course of a protracted siege, the inhabitants of Milan were, in the year 1450, compelled by famine to open their gates to Sforza, who on the twenty-fifth of March, solemnly assumed the ducal diadem.[376]

In the midst of these hostile operations, Nicolas had the prudence and the skill to observe a strict neutrality, and thus to secure to the ecclesiastical territories the blessings of public tranquillity. In the contemplation of the growing prosperity of his subjects the pontiff found an ample reward for his anxious endeavours to promote their welfare. The flourishing state of his finances, the consequence of his cultivation of the arts of peace, was also a source of considerable satisfaction to him, as it furnished him with the means of gratifying his passion for the encouragement of learning. Fostered by his patronage, the scholars of Italy no longer had reason to complain that they were doomed to obscurity and contempt. Nicolas invited to his court all those who were distinguished by their proficiency in ancient literature; and whilst he afforded them full scope for the exertion of their talents, he requited their labours by liberal remunerations.

Poggio did not neglect to take advantage of the rising tide of fortune. Eugenius IV. was the seventh pontiff in whose service he had continued to hold the office of apostolic secretary, without being promoted to any of the superior departments of the Roman chancery. His objections to the ecclesiastical life had indeed shut against him one of the avenues to preferment; and the negligence of his patrons, or the confused state of the temporalities attached to the holy see, had hitherto prevented him from receiving any recompense for his labours at all adequate to his own estimate of their value.[377] But when Nicolas V. had ascended the pontifical throne, his prospects were brightened by the hope of spending the remainder of his days in the comforts of independence, if not in affluence. In order that he might not be wanting to the prosecution of his own interests, he resolved to testify his respectful attachment to the newly-created pontiff, by addressing to him a congratulatory oration. On this occasion, however, he could not but recollect that not many years had elapsed since he had dedicated to his friend his dialogue _De Infelicitate Principum_; and he was sensible that it was absolutely necessary to preserve in his address to Nicolas V. some degree of consistency with the principles which he had formerly endeavoured to sanction by the patronage of Tommaso da Sarzana. In the exordium of this oration, therefore, he professed that he could not conscientiously congratulate the pontiff on his being summoned to undergo immense labour of body, and to exert continual activity of mind. “For,” said he, “if you are determined to guide the vessel of St. Peter properly, and according to the precepts of God, you will not be able to indulge yourself in the least relaxation, or to give yourself up, as you have been accustomed to do, to the joys of friendship and of literature. You must live according to the pleasure of others, and you must give up your own ease, in order to promote the welfare of the Christian community. You are placed as a sentinel to watch for the safety of all, and you are doomed from henceforth never to know the blessings of repose.” After enlarging on these topics, Poggio declared that he would not run the risk of incurring the imputation of flattery, by detailing the virtues which adorned the character of his holiness. “What then,” continued he, “can I say? In treating on this subject, upon what circumstances can I enlarge?—I answer, that they who are raised to the pontifical dignity may be properly addressed in terms of admonition and exhortation.” Proceeding in pursuance of this principle to enumerate the good qualities which ought to confer lustre on the pontifical throne, he reminded the father of the faithful, that it was incumbent upon him to be just, merciful, beneficent, courteous, and humble. He warned him to beware of sycophants and deceitful detractors, who frequently betray the best of princes into dangerous errors; and finally, he exhorted him never to sell for money those honours and sources of emolument which ought to be appropriated as the meed of virtue. Having enlarged as much as prudence would permit upon the head of admonition, Poggio thus skilfully introduced an eulogium on the virtues of his patron. “But in this address, most holy father! I labour under peculiar difficulties; for my knowledge of your singular and transcendent virtues deprives me of the most copious subjects of discourse. For what room is there for the administration of exhortation or admonition to you, who are entitled by your wisdom to admonish others?” After a long detail of the good qualities of the pontiff, the orator thus proceeded.—“I may justly, and without imputation of flattery, call upon you to imitate yourself—to remember by what arts and by what practices you have reached this high dignity, and to persevere in that line of conduct which has led you to the attainment of such illustrious honours. Let me also entreat you, most holy father, not to forget your ancient friends, of which number I profess myself to be one. You well know that friendship originates in a similarity of studies, and in the joint cultivation of virtuous principles. Though the attainment of high authority by one of the parties is wont to separate those who have been united by the bonds of mutual affection, yet he ought more especially to retain his kind regard for his former associates, who does not seek for friends amongst those who can promote his interests, but amongst the virtuous. Forget not then to minister to the necessities of your ancient companions. Become the protector of men of genius, and cause the liberal arts to raise their drooping heads. You see that literature is neglected, whilst men apply themselves to those studies which convert strife into a source of gain. Small is the number of those who are inspired with the love of science, and in an age in which ambition and wealth are more highly esteemed than virtue and probity, they are regarded as inglorious and ignoble. From you alone, most holy father, we expect a remedy for these evils—for you alone is reserved the honour of restoring the dignity of literature, and of providing for the welfare of the learned.” After a brief enumeration of the advantages which would accrue to the pontiff from his encouragement of men of letters, Poggio adverted to his own situation and circumstances in the following terms. “I am now a veteran soldier of the Roman court, in which I have resided for the space of forty years, and certainly with less emolument than might have been justly expected by one who is not entirely destitute of virtue and of learning. It is now time for me to be discharged from the service, and to dedicate the remainder of my old age to bodily rest and to mental employment. But if, most holy father, I do not obtain the means of an honourable retirement from your benevolence, I know not to whose favour and assistance I can lay a claim.”[378]

So far was Nicolas V. from being offended by the freedom with which Poggio in this oration reminded him of his duty, that he testified his esteem for his monitor by conferring upon him very liberal presents. So noble indeed was the munificence of the pontiff, that Poggio declared, that in consequence of the generosity of this enlightened Mæcenas, he regarded himself as at length reconciled to fortune.[379] The genial warmth of the sunshine of prosperity did not, however, cause Poggio to relax in his mental exertions. On the contrary, the prospect of honour and profit, and the spirit of emulation excited by the success of his learned competitors, stimulated him, notwithstanding the advanced period of life to which he had now attained, to pursue his studies with renewed assiduity. He had for a long space of time been occasionally employed in collecting materials for a Dialogue _On the Vicissitudes of Fortune_. These materials he now began to arrange, and having finished and carefully corrected his work, he submitted it to the public inspection, [A. D. 1447.] under the patronage of the pontiff, to whom he respectfully inscribed it by a dedicatory epistle. In this address he descanted on the utility of history, and pointed out the moral tendency of his Dialogue, which, by demonstrating the instability of human things, would repress the confidence of pride and the aspiring views of ambition. He remarked, that the subject of the work which he now presented to his patron was nearly allied to that of the Dialogue _On the Unhappiness of Princes_, which he had formerly dedicated to him, and that it consequently had a peculiar claim to his protection. He moreover reminded his illustrious friend, that though in his ecclesiastical capacity he might be regarded as beyond the reach of misfortune, yet as the sovereigns of the temporal dominions of the church, the pontiffs themselves are not exempted from the common lot of mortality; and expressed his persuasion, that by becoming acquainted with the distresses of his predecessors, he would learn the salutary lesson of caution.[380]

The opening of the Dialogue _On the Vicissitudes of Fortune_ is singularly grand and interesting. It exhibits Poggio and his confidential associate, Antonio Lusco, fatigued by the inspection of the remains of Roman magnificence, reposing themselves amidst the venerable ruins of the capitol, which building commands a prospect of almost the whole extent of the city. After Antonio has gazed for a few minutes upon the waste of years, he exclaims with a sigh, “How unlike, Poggio! is this capitol to that which Maro sung, as—

“Chang’d from horrid thorn to glittering gold.”

“The gold has now disappeared, and thorns and briers resume their reign. When I consider our present situation, I cannot but remember how Caius Marius, the pillar of the Roman republic, when he was banished from his country, landed in Africa, and seated himself amidst the ruins of Carthage, where he meditated upon the fate of that city, and could not determine whether he himself or the rival of Rome afforded a more striking spectacle of the instability of human things. But with respect to the devastation of Rome, there is nothing to which it can be compared. The calamity which has befallen the mistress of the world exceeds in magnitude every misfortune recorded in the annals of history.—It is a truly lamentable circumstance, that this city, which formerly produced so many illustrious heroes and commanders, the parent of such signal virtues, the nurse of arts, the inventress of military discipline, the pattern of sanctity, the establisher of laws, the protectress of good morals, the queen of the nations, should now, by the injustice of fortune, not only be stripped of her dignity, but should also be doomed to the most wretched servitude, and should become so deformed and abject, as to exhibit no traces of her former grandeur, except what are to be found in her ruins.”[381] These observations lead Poggio to remark, how wonderfully few are the vestiges of ancient art which remain in the extensive precincts of Rome. Of these vestiges he gives a complete and interesting catalogue, which affords a very minute account of the appearance of the ruins of Rome in the fifteenth century. At the close of this enumeration, Lusco resumes his reflections on the mutability of Fortune, on which Poggio inquires of his friend what he means by that term. In answer to this question, Lusco gives the Aristotelian definition of Fortune, describing it as an accidental cause, and says, that those circumstances happen by Fortune which happen to man contrary to his design and intention. To this definition he observes that Aquinas accedes. Poggio, remarking that we speak of the good fortune of Alexander or Cæsar, though they laid plans to accomplish what they effected, objects to the foregoing definition, in the place of which Antonio substitutes another, which attributes events that are commonly esteemed fortuitous to the over-ruling providence of God. After this preliminary conversation, Poggio proceeds briefly to recount some ancient examples of the mutability of fortune, and then describes the astonishing success of the arms of Tamerlane, and the calamities of Bajazet. He then requests Antonio to detail some of the more modern instances of a calamitous reverse of circumstances. With this request Lusco complies, and the instances which he recounts occupy the whole of the second book of the Dialogue, in which various changes which had taken place in different parts of Europe, and particularly in Italy, from the year 1377 to the period of the death of Martin V. are narrated with great perspicuity and elegance.—The third book comprises an entertaining epitome of the history of Italy during the pontificate of Eugenius IV. The fourth book is not strictly relevant to the subject of this dialogue, and ought to be considered as a separate and detached composition. It contains an account of Persia and India, which Poggio collected from the narrative of Niccolo Conti, a Venetian, who in the course of a peregrination of twenty-five years, had penetrated into the regions situated beyond the Ganges. This bold adventurer having, during his residence in Arabia, been obliged to abjure the Christian faith, immediately after his return to Italy repaired to the pontifical court to solicit from Eugenius IV. the remission of his sin of apostacy. On this occasion Poggio procured from him an account of his route, and of his observations on the manners, customs, and natural history of the eastern nations. This account he digested into a narrative, which will be found not a little amusing by the modern inquirer, and must have excited an extraordinary degree of attention at the time of its publication.

The Dialogue _On the Vicissitudes of Fortune_ is the most interesting of the works of Poggio. It inculcates maxims of sublime philosophy, enforced by a detail of splendid and striking events. The account which it contains of the changes which took place in Italy at the end of the fourteenth, and at the commencement of the fifteenth centuries, presents a succinct and clear view of the politics of that period; and the journey of the Venetian traveller merits the attentive perusal of the curious inquirer into the history of man.[382]

Soon after the publication of the Dialogue _On the Vicissitudes of Fortune_, Poggio gave a striking proof of the confidence with which he relied on the protection of the pontiff, by publishing a Dialogue _On Hypocrisy_. The astonishing boldness with which he lashes the follies and vices of the clergy in this composition has been already noticed. Had he ventured to advance the sentiments which it contains in the days of Eugenius, he would in all probability have expiated his temerity by the forfeiture of his life. The predecessor of Nicolas felt little veneration for learning, and he united in his character the restlessness of ambition, and the rigour of religious austerity. As the manners of a court universally take their complexion from those of the sovereign, the retinue of Eugenius was crowded with ecclesiastics who assiduously endeavoured to rise to preferment by assuming a sanctity of deportment which they well knew to be the ready passport to the favour of the pontiff. These men, who attempted to disguise their pride under the garb of humility, and who, whilst they made a public profession of excessive piety, secretly indulged themselves in the grossest debauchery, Poggio had long regarded with contempt and indignation; and in his Dialogue _On Hypocrisy_ he attacked them with all the severity of sarcastic wit. This dialogue he inscribed to one of his friends, named Francesco Accolti, of Arezzo, a celebrated lawyer, to whom he observed in his prefatory address, that as he had formerly endeavoured to display the despicable nature of Avarice, he had lately undertaken to describe, in its true colours, Hypocrisy, a vice of a much more odious complexion. He also intimated to Francesco, that he was fully apprized, that by the publication of the work which he then transmitted to him, he should give very great offence; but at the same time he sarcastically remarked, that they who complained of the severity of his animadversions would virtually acknowledge themselves guilty of the crime which it was his intention to hold up to general reprobation.

In the introductory part of the dialogue we are informed, that Poggio was accustomed to take frequent journeys to Florence; on which occasions his first visit was generally paid to Carlo Aretino: that the last time he had an opportunity of paying his respects to that eminent scholar, he found him in his library engaged in reading Plato’s Politia; and that after the customary interchange of civilities, Carlo, inquiring into the state of the Roman court, asked him whether it was as much frequented by hypocrites as it formerly was, during the pontificate of Eugenius. To this inquiry Poggio answered, that the reign of hypocrites was come to an end. Carlo rejoicing in this information, uttered a vehement philippic against hypocrisy, which, he observed, was more severely reproved by Jesus Christ than any other vice. Displaying its evil consequences, he remarked, that hypocrisy tends to destroy confidence between man and man, and to throw suspicion on virtue itself.

After the detail of this conversation, Poggio introduces as a third interlocutor, Jeronimo Aretino, Abbot of Santa Fiore, an ecclesiastic of considerable learning and of unblemished manners, who is represented as unexpectedly paying a visit to Carlo. On the arrival of Jeronimo, Poggio observes, that as this respectable dignitary had spent so large a portion of his days amongst the clergy, he must be well qualified to detail the characteristics of hypocrisy. This task, however, Jeronimo declines, as being an invidious one, and attended with no small degree of danger. But at the solicitation of his friends, and under the assurance of secrecy, he proceeds to advert to the derivation of the word _hypocrite_, which he defines as a term used to express the idea of a man who, for the promotion of some evil purpose, pretends to be what he is not. This definition he observes, includes not merely pretenders to extraordinary sanctity, but impostors of every species. Carlo, however, wishes to limit the meaning of the term to religious deceivers, whom he thus describes.—“They who assume the appearance of uncommon sanctimoniousness—who walk the street with squalid countenances, in thread-bare garments, and with naked feet—who affect to despise money—who are continually talking about Jesus Christ—who wish to be esteemed virtuous, whilst their deeds do not correspond with their outward appearance—who seduce foolish women—who quit their cloisters, and travel up and down the country in quest of fame—who make an ostentatious display of abstinence—who deceive and defraud—these men, I think may be justly denominated hypocrites.” After this description of the character of a hypocrite, Poggio proposes the question, whether men who are thus guilty of imposture are not less dangerous to society than those who openly profess to despise the obligations of morality; since whatever vices hypocrites may privately practise, they inculcate upon others the principles of virtue, and endeavour to palliate their very crimes by attributing the commission of them to good motives. This last remark gives Carlo occasion to detail several scandalous anecdotes of certain ecclesiastics, who, under the cloak of religious austerity, had indulged themselves in the most abominable gratification of their appetites. In the sequel of his speech, Carlo utters an eloquent invective against the ambition of the clergy who then frequented the Roman court. Poggio, concurring with him in sentiment, attacks the popular preachers of that time. He next animadverts upon the begging friars, the confessors, and the ecclesiastics who pretend to an extraordinary degree of temperance and maceration of the flesh. In speaking of this last description of hypocrites, he relates an anecdote of an Augustine friar, who undertook to subsist for eight days upon the holy wafer used in the Eucharist, and who actually quitted his cell at the end of the prescribed term in perfectly good health, and without the least diminution of his corpulency. This impostor gained great celebrity by his apparently miraculous abstinence; but after the lapse of some years it was discovered, that in spite of the vigilance of his guards, he had conveyed into his apartment a quantity of bread saturated with wine, which he had injected into his large leathern girdle, and that he had moreover provided himself with candles composed of sugar, slightly coated over with wax, which afforded him a plentiful supply of nourishment. When Poggio has finished his remarks, Carlo attacks the _Fratres Observantiæ_; and the remainder of the dialogue is occupied by strictures on the character and conduct of several individuals, who, during the time of Poggio’s residence in the Roman court, had distinguished themselves by the gravity of their demeanour, and by the sanctity of their religious profession.[383]

The talent of sarcastic wit which Poggio displayed in this dialogue, and in his invectives against Francesco Filelfo, in all probability caused Nicolas V. to delegate to him the task of drawing up a philippic against Amedæus of Savoy, who, under the title of Felix, persisted in claiming the honours of the pontificate. On the death of Eugenius, this antipope had endeavoured, by proceeding to the election of cardinals, and by the mission of embassadors to several of the Christian powers, to vindicate his rights, as the only legitimate successor of St. Peter.[384] Nicolas, naturally watching the conduct of his competitor with a jealous eye, not only aimed at his devoted head the thunders of the church, but threatened to deprive him of the sovereignty of Savoy, which he destined as the reward of Charles, king of France, whom he solicited to assist him in the subjugation of the pertinacious schismatic.[385] Eagerly taking up the quarrel of his master, Poggio attacked the offender in a long invective. A few extracts from this composition will demonstrate, that in the impartiality of his acrimony, he did not treat the ducal hermit of Ripaille with more lenity than he had shewn to the humble professor of rhetoric.

In his exordium he says, “I cannot suppress the grief which I feel when I see another Cerberus, whom we thought to have been lulled asleep, newly roused from the infernal regions to the disturbance of religion, and the destruction of the church. For what true believer is not deeply affected with sorrow, when he beholds a rapacious wolf, who was formerly fed on the blood of the faithful, now putting on the semblance of a lamb, for the purpose of invading, under the guise of humility, the peace of the church, which he has in vain attacked by open violence. Who is there that does not lament that a golden calf, set up by an assembly of abandoned men, to the disgrace of the faith, in contempt of Christ and his doctrine, should, under the pretence of peace, endeavour by his envoys and letters to pervert the minds of faithful and upright princes from the true belief?—Who would not call upon God to punish such hypocrisy, such villany, such baseness? Who would not detest the perverter of the faith, the enemy of religion, the author of schism, the high-priest of malignity?—This is the issue of his affected sanctity of manners, his relinquishment of the world, his solitary retirement, in which he pretended to dedicate himself to the service of God for the purpose of shamefully demonstrating his infidelity; in which he arrayed himself in humble apparel, in order that he might afterwards, like a roaring lion seeking whom he might devour, destroy all religion, excite a schism, and rend the unseamed garment of Christ.”

Having thus put in a railing accusation against Amedæus, Poggio proceeded to utter a philippic against the members of the council of Basil, who had attempted to raise him to the pontificate. “I wonder,” says he, “that any one is so void of understanding as to believe, that any thing good could proceed from that sink of iniquity, the synagogue of Basil. Is there any one so foolish as to imagine, that this conventicle of reprobates could produce any thing but a monstrous birth, or that it has any authority to ordain the meanest priest, much less to create a pontiff, except the authority which it may have derived from the devil and his followers? For who,” says he, “is ignorant of the character of that tumultuary band of most debauched men? Who does not know what sort of people, how nefarious, how abandoned, how wicked, were assembled in that sink of iniquity?—apostates, fornicators, ravishers, deserters, men convicted of the most shameful crimes, blasphemers, rebels against God and their superiors.”

From such an assembly as this, Poggio observed, that nothing salutary could proceed, since a bad tree can never bring forth wholesome fruit. After ridiculing the steps which Amedæus had taken to establish his authority, and charging him with endeavouring to promote his own interest by the arts of corruption, he reminded him that he was now deserted by the few partizans who had formerly espoused his cause, and that all the princes of Christendom had declared themselves in favour of Nicolas. “Since this is the case,” continued he, “what have you left but empty hopes? Why then do you trouble kings and princes? why do you continue to weary their ears, and to tempt them by your evil practices? why do you call all people your sons, when nobody acknowledges you as a father? Awake from your long slumber, and consider that you were once a Christian. Return to that Saviour whom you have renounced. Peter, the chief of the apostles, once denied his Lord, and obtained pardon by a confession of his crime. Imitate his contrition, and acknowledge that you have sinned against the Lord. No longer wish to deceive yourself or the people of Christ. Confess that you are what you are. Resume your ancient manners and your former life: enter upon a train of thought worthy of a good man: return into favour with God, and gain the good will of men: cast off the burthen of conscience which must of necessity weigh heavy upon you day and night: begin to be wise in your old age: lay aside foreign ornaments, and divest yourself with a good grace of the honours which you have so basely seized: consult for your reputation, your honour, and the dignity of your hoary hairs. Consider for a moment what men say and think of you. All the world execrates the schism, and you the sower and instigator of it. Wash away then this stain, this disgrace to your family. Suffer not posterity to abhor you as the origin of strife. If you contemn the judgment of men, if you despise infamy, yet remember that God suffers no wicked action to pass unpunished. Remember, that if you do not repent, you will incur the pain of damnation. Other punishments are comparatively light, because they endure but for a season. But the soul, when once lost, is lost to all eternity; and unless you repent, you will be doomed, with other heresiarchs, to sustain the horrors of everlasting fire.”[386]

These animadversions of Poggio upon the conduct of Amedæus and his abettors, were calculated to inflame resentment rather than to prepare the way for conciliation. The pacific spirit of Nicolas suggested measures much more conducive to the extinction of the schism. By the grant of a cardinal’s hat, and the privilege of precedence in the conclave, the antipope was induced to renounce the equivocal honours which he held by so dubious a title, and to render homage to his rival, as the true successor of St. Peter. After the fulfilment of these terms of pacification, which were concluded in the year 1449, Amedæus retired to his hermitage of Ripaille, where he devoted the remainder of his days to works of piety, and in the neighbourhood of which he terminated his mortal career on the seventh of January, 1451.[387]

Nicolas being thus freed from the vexation and apprehension which had been excited in his mind by the claims of his rival, applied himself with renewed spirit to the promotion of classical learning. At his request, and under his patronage, the scholars who frequented his court applied themselves with the most earnest assiduity to the study of the Greek tongue. Among the rest, Poggio contributed to the illustration of Grecian literature, by publishing a Latin version of the work of Diodorus Siculus,[388] which he dedicated to his revered patron. This was not, however, his first essay as a translator from the Greek. A little before the accession of Nicolas to the pontificate he had translated into Latin the Cyropædia of Xenophon.[389] Having completed this task, he deliberated for some time on the choice of a patron under whose auspices he might submit it to the inspection of the learned. At length the fame of the splendid talents and liberal disposition of Alfonso, king of Naples, determined him to inscribe his translation to that monarch.[390] On this occasion some of the Neapolitan scholars, who regarded Poggio with a considerable degree of animosity, gratified their malevolence, by vilifying his work to the king, who seems to have lent too ready an ear to their censures. Poggio highly resented this conduct of Alfonso, whom he stigmatized in a letter to Bartolomeo Facio, one of the learned men who enjoyed that monarch’s favour and protection,[391] as a prince who, in consequence of his own ignorance, gave implicit credit to the opinions of others, and declared, that he would avail himself of the earliest opportunity to retract every thing which he had said in his commendation.[392] It should appear, that these remonstrances of Poggio produced an effect little to be expected to arise from the threats of an author against a sovereign prince. In process of time, Alfonso, being convinced that the strictures of his critics were inspired by personal hostility rather than by justice, remunerated him for his version, by a donation which exceeded his first and most sanguine hopes.[393]