Chapter VII: Part 7

Soon after the commencement of the late insurrection, which, as it has been already related, compelled Eugenius to provide for his safety by a precipitate flight, the Roman populace proceeded to the election of seven officers, to whom they delegated the most ample authority to enforce the preservation of the public peace, and to promote the general welfare. On the departure of the pontiff, these new magistrates found themselves masters of the whole of the city except the castle of St. Angelo. They immediately commenced the siege of this fortress; but their efforts to reduce it were vain. In the mean time the troops of Sforza made frequent incursions to the very gates of the city, spreading terror and devastation through the surrounding territory. The garrison of the castle also harrassed the citizens by daily sallies. Wearied and disheartened by the inconveniences resulting from this concurrence of external and internal warfare, the degenerate Romans, at the end of the fifth month of the enjoyment of their delusive liberty, surrendered their principal places of strength to Giovanni de’ Vitelleschi, bishop of Recanati, who took possession of them in the name of the pontiff.[237]

Though the standard of revolt no longer waved defiance against established government from the walls of Rome, and though the populace seemed to be desirous of atoning by the humblest submission for the outrages which they had lately committed, not only against the authority, but also against the person of their sovereign, Eugenius did not yet venture to revisit his capital. He wisely dreaded the effects of that agitation which usually accompanies the subsiding of the stormy sea of political contention. It was also the opinion of his counsellors, that it was necessary to punish the ringleaders of the late revolt with the utmost severity; and he perhaps thought that those princes act consistently with the dictates of prudence, who, whilst they personally interpose in the performance of beneficent and merciful actions, delegate to inferior agents the odious task of inflicting the sanguinary penalties of political vengeance. He accordingly instructed Vitelleschi to take such measures as he should deem necessary for the extinction of the latent sparks of rebellion. For the purposes of severity he could not have selected a fitter instrument than Vitelleschi, a man of haughty demeanour, a bigotted assertor of the rights of established power, whose promptitude in action was guided by the dictates of a cool head, and an obdurate heart. When the inhabitants of the pontifical states were informed that their destiny was committed to the disposal of this merciless ecclesiastic, they were struck dumb with fear;[238] and suspicion and terror spread a gloom over the whole of the papal dominions. No long space of time intervened before the threatening cloud burst upon the heads of the Colonnas and their partizans. Vitelleschi, personally assuming the command of a body of troops, laid siege to the fortresses which sheltered the despairing remnant of rebellion. In the course of a few weeks he took and sacked Castel Gandolfo, Sabello, Borghetto, Alba, Città Lanuvie, and Zagarola. All the inhabitants of these places who survived the carnage which occurred at their capture he carried in chains to Rome. On his return to the capital he proceeded to level with the ground the houses of the principal insurgents. Determined by still severer measures to strike terror into the enemies of the pontiff, he seized one of the ringleaders of the late revolt, and after publicly exposing him to the horrible torture of having his flesh torn with red hot pincers, he terminated his sufferings, by causing him to be hanged in the Campo di Fiore. At the same time, with a view of ingratiating himself with the populace, who dreaded the horrors of approaching famine, he imported into the city an abundant supply of provisions. By this alternate exercise of severity and conciliation, he at length completely re-established the authority of the pontiff in Rome.[239]

Fortune now began to dispense her favours to Eugenius with a liberal hand. In the spring of the year 1435, Fortebraccio, having received intelligence that Francesco Sforza had marched into Romagna to oppose Piccinino, who was preparing to invade that district at the head of a large body of troops, made a forced march, and surprising Leone Sforza, who had been left at Todi with an army of one thousand horse and five hundred foot, compelled him and the greater part of his forces to surrender at discretion. His triumph was, however, but of short duration. Whilst he was employed in the siege of Capo del Monte, he was attacked by Alessandro Sforza, and after an obstinate engagement, in which he received a mortal wound, his troops were entirely defeated. This event, which rid Eugenius of a formidable and implacable foe, prepared the way for a treaty of peace between him and his various enemies. The pontiff derived considerable advantages from the terms of this treaty, in consequence of which he regained possession of Imola and Bologna, and saw Romagna freed from the miseries of war.[240]

On the second of February in this year Joanna, queen of Naples, died, by her last will leaving the inheritance of her kingdom to Regnier of Anjou. The claim of Regnier was, however, disputed by Alfonso of Arragon, who, by virtue of the act of adoption which Joanna had annulled, asserted his title to the Neapolitan crown. Whilst the kingdom of Naples was divided and harrassed by these contending claimants, Eugenius ordered Vitelleschi to take possession of certain towns situated on its frontiers, the sovereignty of which had long been asserted, and occasionally enjoyed, by the Roman pontiffs. Vitelleschi executed this commission with his usual good fortune; and by the conquests which he made in the Neapolitan territories, still farther extended the power of his master.[241]

Whilst the flames of war which had been kindled against Eugenius by the machinations of the duke of Milan were thus gradually extinguished, the members of the council of Basil proceeded with considerable diligence in the execution of the difficult task which they had undertaken—the reformation of the church in its head and members. After settling some preliminary arrangements, with a view of facilitating the union of the Greek and Latin churches, and promoting the conversion of the Jews,[242] the assembled fathers proceeded to denounce against those priests who disgraced their profession by keeping concubines, the penalty of the forfeiture of their ecclesiastical revenues for the space of three months; and the further penalty of deprivation in case they continued, after solemn admonition, to persevere in their flagitious conduct.[243] In a very long and particular decree they laid down wholesome regulations for the decent solemnization of public worship; and strictly prohibited the continuance of those sacrilegious buffooneries which it had been customary in some countries to celebrate in the churches on Innocents’ day, or the feast of fools.[244] Eugenius perhaps felt no repugnance to give his assent to these articles of reformation. But he could not consider with complacency a decree of the ninth of June, whereby the payment of annates, and of the first fruits of benefices, into the pontifical treasury, was prohibited as an unlawful compliance with a simoniacal demand.[245] This ordinance he naturally detested, as tending materially to impair his revenues, and consequently to diminish his power. The spirit of hostility against the undue influence of the head of the church, which actuated the deliberations of the council, was further manifested by a decree of the twenty-fifth of March, 1436, whereby the pontiff was prohibited from bestowing the government of any province, city, or territory appertaining to the church, on any of his relatives, to the third generation inclusive.[246] These proceedings evidently proved, that whatever benefits the synod of Basil might extend to the general community of Christians, the successor of St. Peter was likely to sustain considerable loss in consequence of its labours; and Eugenius determined to seize the earliest opportunity of throwing off its yoke.[247]

Whilst the power and activity of the pontiff’s enemies seemed to throw a considerable degree of uncertainty upon the future destiny of the father of the faithful, Poggio appears to have made preparations permanently to fix his own residence in the Tuscan territory. With this view he purchased a villa in the pleasant district of Valdarno. It appears from a letter addressed by Beccatelli, of Palermo, to Alphonso, king of Naples, that Poggio raised a part of the fund necessary for the making of the purchase by the sale of a manuscript of Livy, written with his own hand, and for which he obtained the sum of one hundred and twenty florins of gold.[248] In the choice of the situation of his intended mansion, he was guided by that love of rural retirement which is generally experienced by men of contemplative minds, who are compelled by the nature of their occupation to engage in the active scenes of society. To him who has been distracted by the bustle and tumult of a court, whose spirits have been jaded by the empty parade of pomp, and whose ingenuous feelings have been wounded by the intrigues of ambition, the tranquil pleasures and innocent occupations of a country life appear to possess a double charm.

Whilst Poggio was thus providing for himself a place of peaceful retirement, he received from the administrators of the Tuscan government a testimony of respect, equally honourable to the givers and to the receiver. By a public act, which was passed in his favour, it was declared, that whereas he had announced his determination to spend his old age in his native land, and to dedicate the remainder of his days to study; and whereas his literary pursuits would not enable him to acquire the property which accrued to those who were engaged in commerce, he and his children should from thenceforth be exempted from the payment of all public taxes.[249]

The fortune of Poggio was, indeed, still very small, and consequently his villa could not vie in splendour with the palaces of the Tuscan aristocracy; but he wisely attempted to compensate by taste what he wanted in magnificence. In pursuance of this design he rendered his humble mansion an object of attention to the lovers of the liberal arts, by the treasures of his library, and by a small collection of statues, which he disposed in such a manner as to constitute a principal ornament of his garden, and the appropriate furniture of an apartment which he intended to dedicate to literary conversation.[250]

The study of ancient sculpture had long engaged the attention of Poggio, who was not less diligent in rescuing its relics from obscurity, than in searching for the lost writers of antiquity. During his long residence in Rome, he assiduously visited the monuments of imperial magnificence, which fill the mind of the traveller with awe, as he traverses the ample squares and superb streets of the former mistress of the nations. The ruins of these stupendous edifices he examined with such minute accuracy, that he became familiarly acquainted with their construction, their use, and their history.[251] Hence the learned men who had occasion to repair to the pontifical court were solicitous to obtain his guidance in their visits to these wonderful specimens of industry and taste.[252] Whenever the avarice or the curiosity of his contemporaries prompted them to search into the ruined magnificence of their ancestors, Poggio attended the investigation, anxious to recover from the superincumbent rubbish some of those breathing forms, the offspring of Grecian art, which the refined rapacity of Roman generals had selected from amongst the spoils of Greece, as ornaments worthy to adorn the temples and palaces of the capital of the world. Nor did he confine these researches to the precincts of Rome. The neighbouring district witnessed his zeal for the restoration of the monuments of ancient sculpture. With this interesting object in view, he visited Grotta Ferrata, Tusculo, Ferentino, Alba, Arpino, Alatri, Ostia, and Tivoli.[253] Whilst he was fitting up his villa, he had the good fortune to pass through Monte Cassino, at the time when an antique bust of a female was discovered by some workmen, who were employed in digging up the foundation of a house. This bust he purchased and added to his collection, which already filled a chamber in his mansion.[254] His inquiries after specimens of art were also extended into distant countries. Being informed that one Francesco di Pistoia was on the eve of embarking for Greece, he requested him with the utmost earnestness to procure for him any relics of Grecian statuary which he might be able to obtain in the course of his travels.[255] At the same time he wrote to a Rhodian, of the name of Suffretus, a celebrated collector of antique marbles, to inform him that he could not bestow upon him a greater pleasure, than by transmitting to him one or more of the pieces of sculpture which he might be able to spare out of his well furnished gallery.[256] Suffretus, actuated by a noble spirit of liberality, immediately on Francesco’s arrival in Rhodes, consigned to his care three marble busts, one of Juno, another of Minerva, and the third of Bacchus, said to be the works of Polycletus and Praxiteles, and one statue of the height of two cubits, all which he destined for Poggio.[257] The annunciation of this intelligence was received by Poggio with the highest exultation. The names of such eminent artists as Polycletus and Praxiteles raised, indeed, in his mind a prudent degree of scepticism; but he dwelt with fond anticipation upon the pleasure which he should experience on the arrival of the busts; and he instantly assigned to each of his expected guests their proper stations in his villa. “Minerva,” says he in a letter to Niccolo Niccoli, “will not, I trust, think herself improperly situated beneath my roof—I will place her in my library. I am sure Bacchus will find himself at home in my house; for if any place is his appropriated residence, that place is my native district, where he is held in peculiar honour. As to Juno, she shall retaliate the infidelities of her straying husband by becoming my mistress.”[258]

The busts in question arrived in safety at the place of their destination;[259] but Francesco alleged that the statue had been stolen out of the ship in which he returned from Greece.[260] Poggio strongly suspected that the plunderer who had deprived him of this portion of his expected treasure was no other than Francesco himself. In this suspicion he was confirmed by his subsequent conduct. For this faithless agent having been afterwards commissioned by Andreolo Giustiniano, a Genoese of considerable learning, to convey to Poggio some antique busts, disposed of this valuable deposit to Cosmo de’ Medici. Poggio did not tamely bear this injury, but inveighed against the dishonesty of the Pistoian with great bitterness in a letter which he addressed to Giustiniano.[261] From this letter it appears, that in addition to his groups of ancient statues, Poggio had adorned his villa by a collection of antique coins and gems. To these pursuits he was instigated, not merely by the desire of illustrating the classic authors by a reference to works of ancient art, but also by an enthusiastic admiration of the sculptured wonders, the productions of men endowed with superlative talents, who, rising from individual to general nature, combined in their imaginations, and embodied with their plastic hands, those finished forms which, as it were, fill the mind of the spectator, and raise him to the exalted idea of perfection.[262] On this subject he thus expressed himself in a letter to Francesco di Pistoia. “I am struck with awe by the genius of the artist, when I see the powers of nature herself represented in marble. Different men are visited by different diseases. My infirmity is an admiration of the works of excellent sculptors: for I cannot but be affected with astonishment by the skill of the man who gives to inanimate substance the expression of animation.”[263]

Whilst Poggio was thus occupied in adorning his rural residence, he received a letter from one of his correspondents named Scipio, of Ferrara, who requested him to give him his opinion upon the question, whether Cæsar or Scipio Africanus were the greater man. The discussion of subjects of this description may give scope to a display of historical knowledge; but it is seldom productive of much utility. It is, perhaps, a proper exercise for youth; but it is hardly worthy of the exertion of talents matured by age. In compliance, however, with the wishes of his friend, Poggio drew up an elaborate comparison between the two eminent men in question, in the course of which he entered much in detail into the history of their respective actions. After this induction of particulars, he compressed his arguments into a general statement of his opinion, that the youth of Scipio was distinguished by the purest morals, whilst the early years of Cæsar were rendered infamous by his vices; that the former, inspired with the spirit of patriotism, by his splendid military achievements rescued his country from destruction; and that the latter, prompted by ambition, too successfully exerted his extraordinary talents to effect the subversion of the commonwealth—that consequently, whilst Scipio was by no means inferior to Cæsar in the fame of his military exploits, he was greatly his superior in virtue, which alone constitutes the character of a truly great man.[264]

This dissertation on the comparative merits of Cæsar and Scipio is ingenious and interesting; and in the pronunciation of his decision, Poggio was certainly guided by the principles of sound morality. It might reasonably have been expected, that an inquiry into the character of two illustrious ancients would be productive of nothing but amusement and instruction; and little did Poggio imagine that any of his contemporaries would be inflamed with resentment by the freedom of his strictures upon the accomplished vanquisher of Roman liberty. But his treatise falling into the hands of Guarino Veronese, who at this time filled the professor’s chair in the university of Ferrara, that renowned preceptor, either actuated by intolerant zeal in defence of the reputation of Cæsar, or influenced by a desire of paying his court to Leonello d’Este, who had frequently declared himself an admirer of the dictator’s character, composed a long answer to the inquiry of Poggio. The spirit and style of this composition were by no means compatible with the friendly sentiments which Guarino professed to entertain with regard to his antagonist. In a kind of preface which he prefixed to it, he contemptuously bestowed upon Poggio the appellation of Cæsaromastix, and asserted, that in his attack upon the character of Cæsar, he was rather audacious than brave.[265] Poggio was much displeased by this provocation, and lost no time in replying to the unexpected strictures of the Ferrarese professor. In this instance, however, he had the discretion to restrain his anger within due bounds. Avoiding as much as possible any altercation with Guarino, he addressed himself to Francesco Barbaro, in a long epistle, in which he dilated his original arguments, and confirmed them by ample authorities. In the introduction to this letter, he complained in a manly strain of dignity of the conduct of Guarino, who had wantonly wounded his feelings, by intermixing personal reflections in the discussion of a literary question, on which all scholars were equally entitled to unlimited freedom of opinion. In this defence of his sentiments, Poggio exhibited much learning and acuteness, and evinced the skill of a practised disputant. As Guarino did not prosecute the discussion of this subject, it may be presumed that he felt due compunction for the breach of friendship into which he had been inadvertently betrayed, and that, overpowered by the superior abilities of his opponent, he shrunk from a renewal of the combat. Guarino was not the only person whose displeasure was excited by the preference given by Poggio to Scipio over Cæsar. Another scholar of that age addressed a letter to Leonardo Aretino, in the course of which, in vindicating the fair fame of the Dictator, he characterizes his censor as a rash and foolish writer. To this second antagonist, however, who from his initials C. A. is supposed to have been Cyriac of Ancona, Poggio did not condescend to make a formal reply, but contented himself with ridiculing him in a letter addressed to their common friend Leonardo.[266]

Soon after the termination of this controversy, Poggio happily lost the remembrance of the uneasiness occasioned by the mutual recrimination of polemic disquisitions, in the tender assiduities of honourable courtship. As he was now arrived at the advanced age of fifty-five, the intemperate heat of his passions was allayed, and the remonstrances of his friend, the cardinal of St. Angelo, on the subject of his unlicensed amours, began to make an impression on his mind. He was also weary of the unsettled state in which he had hitherto lived, and sighed for the participation of those pure domestic comforts, which heighten the pleasures, and alleviate the sorrows of human life. He accordingly sought amongst the Tuscan ladies for a partner of his future fortunes. The object of his research he found in Vaggia, the daughter of Ghino Manente de’ Bondelmonti, a lady of a wealthy and honourable family, to whom he was united in the latter end of the month of December, 1435.[267] From a memorandum inserted in a diary kept by Manente, it appears, that he gave Poggio together with his daughter the sum of six hundred florins[268] as a marriage portion. Pecuniary affairs do not, however, appear to have occupied much of the attention of the bridegroom, whose gallantry led him to dwell with happy pride upon the most valuable of all dowries—the beauty and virtues of his spouse. Previously to his taking the decisive step of matrimony, Poggio deliberately weighed the probable advantages and disadvantages which might arise from the disparity of the ages of himself and Vaggia, who had not yet seen eighteen summers. The result of his cogitations on this interesting topic he set forth in a Latin dialogue on the question—“_An seni sit uxor ducenda_,” which he published soon after his marriage. This dialogue, to which was originally prefixed a dedicatory epistle from its author to Cosmo de’ Medici, is represented as having taken place at a dinner given by Poggio, on occasion of his entering into the holy state, to his friends Niccolo Niccoli and Carlo Aretino. The former of these guests, in the freedom of conversation over his wine, declares, with his habitual bluntness, that nothing but insanity could have induced the founder of the feast, by encumbering himself with matrimonial duties, to undertake a burden which wisdom would avoid at any period of life, but which must be particularly grievous to one, like Poggio, far advanced in years. In reply to this sally of caustic humour Poggio protests that his experience of matrimony by no means vindicates Niccolo’s opinion of that state, from which he has hitherto derived nothing but satisfaction. Niccolo avers that he hears with pleasure this declaration, to which he politely professes to give full credence; but he at the same time maintains, that, regarding the case of his friend as an exception to a general rule, he cannot, abstractedly speaking, applaud the wisdom of a man, who, at the age of fifty-five, enters upon a course of life quite alien from his former habits. He then proceeds, in the style of an advocate arguing on one side of a question, to enumerate all possible suppositions as to defects in the character of the object of an old man’s choice as a partner for the remainder of his life. She may be peevish and morose—She may be intemperate, immodest, idle and sluttish—If she is a maiden and young, it will be found on trial that the levity of youth will not harmonize with the gravity of advanced years—If she be a widow, there is great hazard lest she should entertain vivid recollections of the pleasures which she enjoyed in her connexion with her former spouse—recollections which will by no means operate to the advantage of her present husband. As to the entering into an union with an aged woman, this would be of course the feeble propping and sustaining the feeble—it would be a proceeding productive of nothing but a doubling of infirmity and discomfort. For a literary man to enter into a connexion which must trespass upon that time which should be devoted to the cultivation of his mind were folly indeed—to all which considerations must be added this most important one, that if a man who marries late in life becomes the father of children, he cannot expect to live to see the completion of that education which he hopes may imbue his offspring with that useful knowledge and with those virtuous dispositions which are requisite to secure their success in the world. At his death, then, he will be oppressed by the painful reflection, that he must leave the objects of his fond solicitude to the discretion of guardians, who have been found in so many instances to be careless or unfaithful in the discharge of their important trust. “I am aware,” says Niccolo at the termination of his speech, “that in some cases circumstances may be different from what I have represented them as likely to be. You, Poggio, for instance, are fortunate if what you tell us of your matrimonial experience is true—but yet I always have been, and still am, of opinion, that safe counsels are to be preferred to hazardous ones.”

When Poggio, smiling at these remarks of Niccolo, is preparing to reply to them, he is interrupted by his friend Carlo, who begs from him permission to undertake the management of the cause of the aged gentlemen who become the votaries of Hymen; and, this being granted to him, he begins his speech by making a personal attack upon Niccolo, who, he alleges, has declined to enter into the married state by an unreasonable timidity of spirit, and an unaccommodating austerity of temper. But if all men were to follow his example, they would manifestly act in disobedience to the first law of nature, which provides for the continued propagation of the human species, and they would moreover grossly neglect the duty which they owe to the state to which they belong, which demands from them that succession of virtuous citizens by whom alone its rights and liberties can be maintained. As to the cares and avocations of matrimony breaking in upon literary occupations, Carlo reminds his adversary that this was not the case with Plato, with Aristotle, with Theophratus, Cato the elder, Cicero, and many others of the ancients distinguished by the extent of their learning. Matrimony also, which Niccolo has vilified as a species of servitude, preserves a man from that licentiousness of conduct which is the worst kind of slavery in which he can be enthralled. Moreover, if any elderly man be united to a young woman, his wisdom will be a guide to her inexperience—his prudence will teach her to restrain her appetites, and his example will in every case afford her instruction and encouragement in the regulation of her conduct in life.

On Niccolo’s appealing with a smile to the experience of Carlo himself, and asking him whether he has not known old men who have been more foolish than boys, and whether people of this description are not very unsafe guides in the discharge of moral and political duties, the latter replies that he pleads not on the behalf of foolish people of any age; but that he is ready to assert as a general principle, that the matrimonial union is singularly well adapted to promote the happiness of an elderly man. Young folks, he says, are unable to regulate themselves; much less are they qualified to govern others. What, then, will be the consequence of an union of two parties, each of which is totally inexperienced in the management of human affairs, but the pressure of poverty, and its attendant train of miseries? But the man who is ripe in years will support the weakness of his wife, and instruct her ignorance in the ordering of their domestic concerns, and will abate in her the effervescence of passion by the inculcation of the lessons of virtue.

Enlarging on these ideas, and more particularly analyzing Niccolo’s objections to the marriage of men advanced in years, Carlo boldly maintains, that it is expedient for a person of this description not only to marry, but also to marry a young woman, whom he may mold like wax to his will. As to sensual indulgences—whilst so many examples are seen of the total abstinence from them which is practised in convents and nunneries, why should any doubt be entertained, that a well-instructed female will cheerfully submit to that restricted enjoyment of them which circumstances may demand from her? As to the little likelihood of an aged parent living to see his offspring settled in the world, Carlo demurs to the fact, and asserts that longevity is fully as likely to follow upon the temperance of mature age as upon the careless dissoluteness of youth. “But granting,” says he, “that the remaining years of an old man are few in number, will he not, nevertheless, derive the greatest pleasure from his children, whom it will be a gratification to him to train to good manners, at a period when they are much more disposed to revere their parent, and to obey him, than they are likely to be when growing strength and self-confidence shall have rendered them more independent of parental controul?”

Fortifying his doctrine by the test of facts, Carlo appeals, in proof of the soundness of the principles which he is maintaining, not only to the domestic history of Cato the Elder and of Cicero, but still more especially to that of Galeazzo Malatesta, who, having married a young wife in the seventy-fourth year of his age, left behind him at his death four sons, who became the most illustrious men of all Italy, and one of whom, Carlo, was no less celebrated for his literary accomplishments than for his prowess in war.—“These illustrious characters,” says he, “were, indeed, virtuous by nature; but they were not a little indebted for the renown which they obtained in their maturer years, to the instructions which they received in their early youth from their father. The wise exhortations of an aged parent have, in my opinion,” continues he, “great efficacy in the right training of children—a greater efficacy, indeed, than if they fell from the lips of persons of unripe years—for it is to advanced age that we look for gravity and experience.” After enlarging on this topic, Carlo draws from his reasonings the conclusion, that both on public and on private grounds, it is expedient that elderly men should quit the state of celibacy, and that they should marry youthful wives. “It is,” he observes, “an unspeakable advantage in life, for a man to have a partner to whom, as to a second self, he may communicate his counsels and his joys, and who, by sympathizing in, may mitigate his sorrows. Nor is it to be doubted,” says he, “that a wife of this description will continue to love her husband as long as he loves her, and as long as he maintains towards her that fidelity which is too often violated by the impetuosity of youthful appetite.” He then proceeds to controvert in their order the other positions of Niccolo, who, however, is by no means converted from his original opinions on the subject matter of the debate; but closes the conference, by charging Carlo with uttering the sentiments which he has propounded merely for the sake of flattering their host, in return for the good dinner which he has given to his friends; and by characteristically professing that he will look to himself, and take care not to suffer by imitating the follies of others.

This dialogue on the question _An seni sit uxor ducenda_ is one of the most ingenious of Poggio’s compositions. It evinces its author’s intimate acquaintance with life and manners; and at the same time, in the lucidness of its arrangement and the dexterity of its argumentation, it exhibits a specimen of no common rhetorical powers. In the course of the conversation between the interlocutors Poggio indulges in the liveliness of fancy; but he never transgresses the bounds of decorum. On the contrary, though he introduces into the discussion some slippery topics, he touches upon them with great delicacy; and it may be stated, greatly to his honour, that, in the character of the advocate of matrimony, he treats the female sex with marked respect, and represents woman not only as gifted with great acuteness of intellect, but also as endowed with dispositions which incline her, as a rational being, to listen with deference to the lessons of wisdom and virtue. To which may be added, that the diction of this dialogue is singularly correct, and that it evinces, on the part of its author, a familiar acquaintance with the phraseology of Cicero.[269]

Poggio’s resolution to correct the irregularity of his conduct, and to enter into the state of lawful wedlock, most certainly merited high commendation. It is to be hoped, however, that he experienced the keenest remorse of self-accusation for his former licentiousness, when he found that the commencement of his reformation was to be signalized by an act of extreme unkindness. In order to prepare the way for his marriage, he was obliged to dismiss a mistress who had borne him twelve sons and two daughters. What distressing embarrassments crowd the train of vice; and how powerfully are the benevolent feelings excited on the side of virtue, when we see the object of licentious passion, after a connexion of many years, in circumstances which seem to imply on her part fidelity to her seducer, at length abandoned by him, and sent forth, perhaps in poverty—certainly in agonizing mental distress—to encounter the taunts of public scorn.[270]

If, however, we may give credit to Poggio’s account of the state of his feelings on his entrance upon his new connexion, his felicity was not interrupted by any painful reflections on the past, or by any uneasy forebodings with respect to the future. In a letter to one of his English friends, Nicholas Bilston, Archdeacon of Winchester, he thus expresses himself on the subject of his marriage.

“Our epistolary intercourse, my dear father, has by my omission been too long suspended. Do not, however, impute my silence to forgetfulness of the obligations which your goodness has conferred upon me; for I can assure you that a sense of your kindness is impressed upon my mind in indelible characters. The fact is, that till lately, no event has occurred in my history of sufficient importance to constitute the subject of a letter. But I have now to announce to you a most important change in my situation—a change, of which I hasten to give you the earliest intelligence, in full confidence that you will participate in my joys. You know that I have been hitherto uncertain what course of life to pursue, and that I have long hesitated whether to adopt the secular or the clerical character. To the ecclesiastical profession, however, I must confess that I never felt any inclination. In this dubious state of mind, I arrived at a period when it was absolutely requisite for me to fix upon some settled plan for the regulation of my future conduct. Determining, therefore, not to spend the remainder of my days in unsocial solitude, I resolved to marry; and though now declining into the vale of years, I have ventured to enter into the matrimonial union with a young lady of great beauty, and possessed of all the accomplishments which are proper for her sex. You will perhaps say, that I ought to have taken this step at an earlier period. I confess it: but, as the old proverb says, ‘better late than never;’ and you must remember that philosophers assure us, that ‘_Sera nunquam est ad bonos mores via_.’ I might, indeed, have changed my condition many years ago; but in that case I should not have obtained my present spouse, a partner in all respects suited to my manners and disposition, in whose agreeable converse I find a solace for all my anxieties and cares. So richly is she endowed with virtues, that she gratifies my most sanguine wishes. This circumstance is the source of the greatest comfort to me; and I return thanks to God, who, having continually been propitious to me, ‘has loved me even to the end,’ and has bestowed upon me more than I could have wished. Well knowing your regard for me, and duly sensible of the value of your friendship, I have thought it my duty to acquaint you with my present circumstances, and to make you a partaker in my pleasure. Farewell.”

This letter, which bears the date of the sixth of February, 1436, was written in the course of that halcyon period, during the continuance of which the fetters of matrimony are usually entwined with flowers, and unmixed pleasure is supposed to be the almost certain portion of the newly united pair. In the strictness of investigation, therefore, it cannot be admitted as evidence of the happiness which Poggio enjoyed in the married state. Hymeneal transports, however ardent, are proverbially fleeting; and many a matrimonial union which has commenced in affection, has been found productive of disgust. From various detached passages, however, which occur in his future correspondence with his friends, it appears that Poggio was not disappointed in his hopes of conjugal felicity, and that his connexion with Vaggia was a source of comfort to his declining years.

On the eighteenth of April, [A. D. 1436.] Eugenius quitted Florence, and transferred the pontifical court to Bologna, whither he was accompanied by Poggio, who soon after his arrival there, detailed his further experience of the joys of wedded love in the following letter to the cardinal of St. Angelo.

“You have frequently, most reverend father, exhorted me, both in conversation and by letter, to adopt some settled course of life. I have at length followed your advice. Two plans were proposed to my consideration: to enter into the priesthood, or to pursue some secular concern—To the ecclesiastical profession I always entertained an invincible objection—I disliked solitude; and therefore, being determined to enter upon civil life, I turned my mind to matrimony. I do not deny that the clerical life is by many esteemed more peaceable and tranquil than that which I have chosen. It is, indeed, generally regarded as free from care, and as allowing the greatest scope to ease and self-indulgence.—The opulence which it promises to confer is also a powerful motive to impel men to the adoption of it—a much more powerful one, indeed, than any considerations of a religious or moral nature. For what numbers are there whose inquiry is directed after wealthy benefices rather than after the rule of an upright life. It is deemed honourable amongst mortals to excel others in pomp, to be flattered and courted by the multitude, to abound in riches, which procure that outward splendour which is generally thought to constitute dignity. And it is deemed still more honourable to obtain these advantages without labour, and in a short time. Hence the clergy, springing like mushrooms in an hour, are rapidly advanced to the highest dignities. Thus it very frequently happens, that you are obliged to venerate as a God, a man whom you have been accustomed to despise as a mean, abject, ignoble, and ill-bred character. By one word of the pontiff, the ignorant become, in the estimation of the vulgar, learned; the stupid wise; the uninstructed accomplished—though at the same time the real character of the men is precisely the same as it was before.

“In addition to these considerations, I was well aware how important is the dignified office of an ecclesiastic; and what a weight of responsibility rests upon those who, by accepting benefices, undertake the spiritual guidance of their fellow men; and I was deterred from entering upon the clerical functions by the strictness of the precepts which are inculcated by the ancient doctors of the church. For when I was informed by these most holy men, whose works I had perused, to what uses the wealth of the church ought to be appropriated—that he who does not work, ought not to eat—and that the labourer in spiritual things ought to be content with food and raiment; and when I was conscious that I was unfit for the discharge of clerical duties; and when I knew that I could obtain food and raiment by other, though certainly more laborious means; I thought it advisable—not indeed to contemn the former pursuit, but to adopt the latter, which seemed more suitable to my disposition. That warfare is, I must confess, better and more illustrious in which men can attain to a greater pitch of merit, provided they conduct themselves according to the rules of religion and their office. But after maturely examining my own strength and ability, I was afraid of engaging in a field, in which I should incur the almost certain danger of basely yielding to the adversary, or of falling in the combat, to the hazard of my soul.

“Being determined therefore to employ myself in secular concerns, in forming my matrimonial engagement, I adopted those principles which have obtained the approbation of the wise and learned. For in the choice of a wife, I was not influenced by riches, which render the generality of men blind to their true interests—nor was I prompted by a wish to rise to civil honours, or to strengthen my interest with the great. These are objects of earnest desire to the multitude at large. But I was influenced by different motives. In looking out for a partner for life, I looked for honour, probity, virtue, which the wisest of men have declared to be the most ample dower which a parent can bestow upon his child. Being, then, well acquainted with the excellent dispositions, the modesty, and the other characteristic virtues of a certain young lady of noble family, who had not yet completed her eighteenth year, on her I fixed my choice. The exemplariness of this lady’s manners was acknowledged by every body who was acquainted with her; and the excellence of her character I esteemed her most striking recommendation. Such indeed is her beauty, that I cannot but occasionally reflect with seriousness on the disparity of our years—however, as I knew that from her tender youth, she had been educated in such a manner, that she had a still greater share of good principles and of modesty, than of comeliness and grace of person, I determined to make her my own. Nor have I repented of my resolution. For so much does she daily rise in my esteem, that I continually give thanks to God, who, in former times has always blessed me with more than, on account of my sins, I could possibly deserve; and in bestowing upon me so excellent a wife, has so bountifully provided for my comfort and satisfaction, that there is nothing that I can wish for in addition to his present mercies.

“Our friend Zucharo was accustomed to say, when he wished to commend some exquisitely dressed dish, that it was so delicately seasoned that the least alteration in its composition would spoil it. So say I of my wife. There is nothing which I wish to be added to her character, nor any thing which I wish to be taken away from it.

“I must now tell you the reason why I have been so late in writing to you on this subject. It is a common observation, that there are few if any married men who do not become weary of their wives in the course of a year. The pontiff has allowed me six months for my period of probation. The fifth month is now expired; and my wife daily grows upon my esteem, and is daily more agreeable to me, and more compliant with my wishes. Forming a conjecture as to the future from my experience of the past, I am inspired by a confident expectation that I shall never repent of having formed this connexion. I trust also that God will continue to me his favour. For if he was propitious to me when I strayed from the path of moral rectitude, I may reasonably hope, that since I have entered upon the right way he will shower down his blessings upon me with a still more liberal hand. But whatever may happen in the course of the changes which take place in this sublunary world, I shall never repent of having acted uprightly. I wished to communicate this intelligence to you, my dear friend, in order that you might rejoice in my joy. I am sensible that the gravity of your wisdom might claim a more weighty subject of correspondence: but the wisest of men occasionally indulge themselves with a little relaxation from serious pursuits. This relaxation I trust you will experience in the perusal of my present epistle.”[271]

Guarino Veronese embraced the occasion of Poggio’s marriage to renew the friendly intercourse with him which had been unhappily suspended in consequence of their late dispute. He addressed him on this joyful occasion in a congratulatory letter, to which Poggio replied with the most cordial frankness. “In your epistle,” said he, “which I received by the kindness of Francesco of Ferrara, I recognize my friend Guarino, who was formerly inferior to no one in the testimonies of his affection towards me. I am happy to find, that though your ability in maintaining the intercourse of friendship may have been suspended, it is not lost. I also am the same that I ever was—your most faithful friend. Be assured that my regard for you has not suffered the least diminution. A difference of opinion can never justify a breach of friendship. Our late contention, in which we engaged for the purpose of exercising our abilities in the bestowing of praise and the infliction of censure, was highly commendable. The great men of antiquity adopted different sides of the question in the senate and at the bar, without the least infringement of the duties of friendship. It would indeed redound to our disgrace, if the similarity of our studies, which is usually the firmest bond of union, should dissolve that pleasing connection which has subsisted for so long a space of time. The learned and justly renowned Francesco Barbaro, during his late visit to Florence, intimated to me his suspicions, that my friendly regard for you was somewhat diminished. I told him that his suspicions were entirely groundless; that my esteem for you was so far from being diminished, that it was increased—I also promised to write to you. This promise I should certainly have immediately fulfilled, had I not been prevented by the press of business occasioned by the departure of the pontiff.

“Accept my thanks for your kind congratulation on the late change in my condition. I hope I shall find it productive of perpetual comfort and pleasure. For since, as Flaccus says, the virtue of parents is a great dowry, I have had this alone in view, and have overlooked riches and other recommendations, which the generality of men regard as indispensably requisite to the happiness of the married state. Petronius Arbiter asserts, that wisdom and beauty are rarely allied—but by the favour of heaven, I am united to a wife, who, though she has not yet completed her eighteenth year, and is distinguished by her beauty, is yet more virtuous than she is fair, and comprehends in her character all the graces which adorn the female sex. I trust, therefore, that I have made a provision of comfort for my future years, though some of my friends say that I am beginning a new art, at the time when I ought to be quitting it. But it is never too late to do what is right and honest: and as good poets take especial pains in polishing the last act of their play, I am resolved to dedicate the remainder of my days to purity of conduct.”[272]

At this time, the Florentines and the Venetians, being at war with the Duke of Milan, had engaged as their ally Giovan Francesco Gonzaga, Marquis of Mantua; and whilst hostilities were carrying on between the above mentioned parties, the eldest son of the Marquis, being an ardent admirer of the character of Niccolo Piccinino, who held a station of distinction in the Milanese army, had secretly quitted his father’s house, and had entered into the service of the Duke for the purpose of studying the art of war under the auspices of that celebrated Condottiere. Gonzaga was so much irritated by this conduct of his son, that he disinherited him, as being, by a species of desertion, guilty of a capital crime. The young prince, whilst this judgment hung suspended over his head, having been ordered by Piccinino to guard with a body of troops the lines by which the town of Barga was beleaguered by the Milanese forces, was wounded and taken prisoner in a battle which he fought with Francesco Sforza, one of the commanders in the pay of the Florentine republic. The repentant run-away having, on his recovery, taken service under Sforza, and thus rejoined the standard of his native country, applied to his father for forgiveness of his fault. But he solicited for pardon in vain. Gonzaga, either indulging the natural severity of his disposition, or fearing to excite the jealousy of the Venetians, should he pass over so heinous a crime, turned a deaf ear to the suit of the youthful warrior, and sternly refused to mitigate the doom which he had pronounced upon him.

Deeply affected by this incident, Poggio, who was then with the pontifical court at Bologna, wrote to the Marquis a long and elaborate letter, in which he pleaded, with a zeal enlightened by the principles of humanity, for an extension of mercy to the juvenile offender. In this eloquent composition, after an appropriate introduction, in which he touched upon the difficulty of the task of regulating human conduct according to contingent circumstances, and the necessity of due reflection for the proper discharge of moral duties, Poggio reminded the Marquis, that, learned and prudent as he was justly accounted, yet as a sovereign he was liable to be led astray by his passions, which were likely to be fostered rather than restrained by the applause of interested flatterers, whose constant object it is to prevent the voice of reason from approaching the ears of men invested with power. This remark he aptly illustrated by a reference to the history of Augustus Cæsar, who, having repented of the severity with which he had treated his delinquent daughter Julia, exclaimed in the bitterness of his feelings, that he should not have conducted himself towards her with so much harshness, had Marcus Agrippa and Mecænas been still living, who alone of his courtiers dared freely to tell him the truth.