CHAP. VII.
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 andterror 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 FrancescoSforza 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 executedthis 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 ofbenefices, 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 andtwenty 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 solicitousto 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 wereemployed 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 thepleasure 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 faithlessagent 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 excellentsculptors: 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 hissuperior 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 audaciousthan 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 didnot 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 inthe 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 slaveryin 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 tomarry 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 questionAn seni sit uxor ducendais 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 accomplishmentswhich 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; andmany 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, thanany 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 notwork, 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’smarriage 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. Thispromise 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 allyGiovan 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 zealenlightened 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.
Poggio then proceeds, in the character of an honest adviser, to represent to the Marquis, that it is the opinion of the most competent judges of the actions of princes, that the punishment, which he professes to be determined to inflict on his son, is more severe than just. The delinquency of the prince involved no stain upon his honour. On the contrary, it was occasioned by an excess of generous feeling. Why, then, should he be subjected to a penalty befitting a traitorous conspirator, or a fratricide? TheMarquis may perhaps imagine that the example of Brutus and that of Manlius Torquatus may be pleaded in defence of his obduracy, but he begs him to remember that those illustrious Romans did not avenge with the fatal axe their own wrongs, but those of the republic. Becoming animated as he proceeds in the discussion of his subject, Poggio, quitting the apologetic style, pronounces an eulogium on the young Gonzaga, who, instead of devoting himself like a Sybarite to the pleasures and the pastimes of a court, had, in pursuit of glory, encountered the perils and the fatigues of war. Then, relating another anecdote of the second of the Roman emperors, who, being consulted by Titus Arrius, as to the punishment which he should inflict on his son, who had been guilty of plotting against his life, had given it as his opinion, that the offender should be banished, rather than put to death, he maintains that the same principle which prompted Augustus to award a mitigated penalty against a young man convicted of so atrocious a crime as meditated parricide, should induce the Marquis to treat with lenity the juvenile indiscretion of his son. Then appealing to the remorse and penitence of the prince, he urges the offended father to receive the returning prodigal with kindness; and, descending from the flights of eloquence to the plain level of prudential consideration, he concludes his letter by admonishing the Marquis, that if he should persevere in his design of disinheriting his eldest born son, that son had proved by his late conduct that he was too high spirited to submit to the threatened indignity, and that, however submissive he might be during his father’s life, the death of the Marquis would be the signalof a civil war, which would lay waste the Mantuan territory, and which would only terminate with the shameful victory of one of his children over the other, or with the ruin of both.
When Poggio had finished the composition of this letter, he in the first instance consigned it to the care of Vittorino da Feltre, a scholar of high reputation, who then held the confidential office of preceptor to the sons of Gonzaga, requesting him to watch for some favourable moment for presenting it to his patron. This very precaution should seem to intimate, that Poggio felt a latent consciousness that the liberty which he was taking in assuming the office of a monitor, might possibly not be very acceptable to the distinguished personage to whom his admonition was addressed. And yet, such was the pride of scholarship in the fifteenth century, that when, at the end of two months, his letter was returned to him by Vittorino, with an intimation that Gonzaga declined receiving it, Poggio addressed a second letter to the unrelenting father, protesting that he had been influenced, in requesting his attention to wholesome lessons of advice, not by any selfish motives, but by his zeal for the welfare of a sovereign prince, from whom he unequivocally declared that he thought himself entitled, in consideration of his good offices, to a return of gratitude rather than of contempt. At the same time he wrote to Vittorino, expostulating with him for the want of zeal, which he had evinced with regard to the commission with which he had entrusted him; and understanding that Carlo Brognolo, an intimateacquaintance of his, resident at the Mantuan court, had endeavoured to induce the Marquis to excuse the liberty which he had taken in writing to him, he wrote to him also, thanking him for his friendly intentions; but at the same time protesting, that he had only addressed the sovereign of Mantua by letter in the manner in which, had an opportunity presented itself, he would have addressed him personally, namely, in a style and tone becoming the citizen of a free state.
There is reason to believe that the displeasure felt by the Mantuan prince against the officious scribe was not deeply rooted or of long duration; for it appears that Gonzaga, having come to Ferrara when the council was assembled in that city in the year 1438, took occasion, in the presence of a numerous audience, to speak of Poggio in terms of respect and praise, for which honour the latter tendered to his Highness, by letter, his grateful thanks.[273]
The literary reputation of Poggio now began to be very extensively diffused, and his writings became an object of frequent inquiry among the learned. Several eminent scholars had been so much gratified by the perusal of some of his letters, which had accidentally fallen into their hands, that they earnestly requested him to publish a collection of them. This request could not but be highly gratifying tohis feelings, and he readily took the requisite steps to comply with it. He accordingly desired Niccolo Niccoli, with whom, as being his most intimate friend, he had maintained a constant correspondence, to select from his papers such of his letters as were likely to reflect lustre on his character; and he was engaged in arranging and correcting the materials for a small volume, at the time when the pontifical court was transferred from Florence to Bologna. On resuming his task in the latter city, he found that Niccolo had neglected to transmit to him various letters which he had addressed to him from France and Germany, and which he thought would be peculiarly interesting to the public, as they contained an account of his successful exertions in search of the lost writers of antiquity. Niccolo was not so active as Poggio could have wished in procuring for him these necessary documents. The letters in question were in all probability dispersed in the hands of various persons, and of course he would experience some delay and difficulty in collecting them. In fact they were never recovered by Poggio, who completed from the materials which he had in his own possession a volume[274]of his epistles, which he submitted to the inspection of the public, dedicating it to the Canonico Francesco Marescalco of Ferrara.[275]A copy of this volume is preserved amongst the manuscripts of the Riccardi library in Florence.[276]
The transmission of his letters was one of his last acts of friendship which Poggio requested from Niccolo Niccoli. Soon after the publication of his epistles, he received the melancholy intelligence of the death of this his earliest and steadiest friend. He was acutely sensible of the serious loss which he had sustained by this event, which took place on the 23rd of January, 1437; and in the ardour of his affection, he waited with patience for the publication of sometribute of respect to the memory of the deceased, which he thought might justly be demanded from the multitude of learned men, on whom the numerous favours which they had received from the hands of Niccolo imposed an imperious obligation to celebrate his virtues.[277]In this expectation he was disappointed. The scholars of Florence were, perhaps, of opinion, that panegyrics on the living were more productive of profit than encomiums on the dead. Offended by their tardiness, Poggio resolved, notwithstanding the urgency and variety of his occupations, to rescue the name of his friend from oblivion. He accordingly composed and published a funeral eulogium on Niccolo Niccoli; being determined, as he said in a letter to Feltrino Boiardo, to merit, at least, the praise which is due to the faithful discharge of the offices of friendship.[278]
In his funeral oration on Niccolo, Poggio, adopting the character of the orator appointed to address the public on the occasion of his obsequies, introduced the eulogy of his deceased friend by the following exordium.
“If, citizens of Florence! it had been consistent with the dignity of the Latin muses personally to address you on the present occasion, they would not have delegated this office to another—they would themselves, in the most copious and ornamented language, have celebrated the virtues of their most excellent and praise-worthy child.But since those whose transcendent majesty prevents them from exhibiting themselves to the eyes of the public, commission their representatives to appear on their behalf—though I know that there are many in this assembly, whose learning, whose genius, and whose oratorical abilities are far superior to mine, I have ventured to claim your attention—not with a view of precluding the more enlightened efforts of others; but in hopes that, whilst I thus discharge the imperious duties of friendship, my humble exertions may lead the way to more splendid specimens of eloquence. And should my powers fall far short of the merits of the deceased—should I be unable to pay a tribute of respect in any degree adequate to the services which I have received from him, you will, I trust, pardon me, not merely in consideration of the mediocrity of my talents, but also in consideration of the multitude of the virtues of our departed friend. Abilities far superior to any which I possess are requisite to execute the task of enumerating, in the brief space of time which is usually allotted to these occasions, the numerous excellent qualities of the deceased.—But why do I say deceased? Niccolo undoubtedly lives, and will for ever live. He will be held in everlasting remembrance in the minds of men, and he enjoys that immortality, which alone is deserving of the name of life. We firmly believe, that his pure soul, freed from every corporeal stain, no longer obnoxious to the contagion of sin, has been at once exalted into heaven. For he was a man of the most upright conduct, endued with singular modesty, during every period of his mortal existence. Connecting the study ofpolite learning with that of the sacred scriptures, he ascended from knowledge to practice, and rendered his literary pursuits subservient to the regulation of his moral conduct. In order that you may become more particularly acquainted with his character, permit me to enter a little at large upon the subject of his studies and learning, his moral qualities, and the uprightness of his conversation. For the contemplation of the example of excellent men is a powerful incitement to an imitation of their virtues.”
Pursuing the method thus pointed out, Poggio proceeded to give an account of the education and early pursuits of his friend, and made honourable mention of the good services which he had rendered to the cause of literature. He next entered into a particular detail of his virtuous dispositions, celebrating, with appropriate praise, his prudence, his benevolence, his fortitude, his contempt of wealth, and the gravity of his manners. At length, mentioning the serenity with which he met his dissolution, he thus concluded. “Oh fatal day! bitter indeed to us; but to him the happy termination of evils. At thy destiny, Niccolo, (for I will once more address our departed friend) at thy destiny I rejoice, for thou inhabitest the abodes of the pious, and art entered into the mansions of eternal rest. It is for myself I grieve—on my own account I lament this fatal day, which has deprived me of thy delightful converse, of thy tender affection, which has robbed me of the fruit of my studies, which has torn from me him whom I regarded as my friend and father, to whom I was accustomed freely tocommunicate my cares, my thoughts, my every word and deed. Justly is this day to be lamented by me, in which I have lost the consolation of my sorrows, the alleviation of my griefs, and the firmest support of my labours. No longer shall I be permitted to converse with thee, to ask thy advice, to rely upon thy friendly exertions. This consolation I will, however, retain; I will recall the memory of past times, and whilst I imbibe the vital air, I will dwell on thy sweet remembrance, and embrace thee in idea. The image of my friend shall be perpetually present to my eyes; and since alas! he is numbered amongst the silent dead, in the celebration of his virtues I will testify the gratitude which I feel for the numerous acts of kindness which I have experienced from him during his life.”[279]
The generality of scholars are not, perhaps, aware of the debt of gratitude which they owe to Niccolo Niccoli. If, however, they derive pleasure and improvement from the perusal of the classic authors of Greece and Rome, they ought to hold him in respectful remembrance; for to his liberality and to his industry, the recovery and diffusion of many of the writings of the ancients may be justly ascribed. His pecuniary assistance enabled Poggio to support the expenses which he incurred in the course of his researches after neglected manuscripts; his assiduous diligence in transcribing the works of the luminaries of Grecian and Roman literature multiplied the copies of those exemplarsof true taste.[280]In the acquisition of books, he set no bounds to his expenses; and the inconsiderateness of the zeal with which he added to the stores of his library sometimes reduced him to the verge of poverty.[281]His researches after the memorials of ancient genius were not confined to manuscripts. Inspired by a love of the arts, he eagerly availed himself of every opportunity which occurred, of purchasing antique statues, coins and gems. So extensive was his collection of these interesting relics of past magnificence, that Poggio asserts in his funeral oration, that it exceeded the aggregate amount of all other collections of the same kind.[282]He did not, like a literary miser, morosely brood over the treasures of his library and his cabinet in unsocial selfishness. His doors were always open to the learned, and to those who entertained a desire to improve their understanding by study. The ingenuous youths who wished to gain access to the fountains of knowledge found in Niccolo a protector and a guide. Extending his patronage of literature beyond the period of his mortal existence, by his last will he bequeathed his library, which consisted of upwards of eight hundred volumes, to the use of the public.[283]
It does not appear that he was the author of any literary work, except a short treatise on the orthography of the Latin language, in which he attempted to settle various disputed points on this subject, by the authority of ancient inscriptions.[284]One of his contemporaries[285]attributes his literary silence to the fastidiousness of his taste, which led him to form in his own mind a standard of excellence, to which he despaired of attaining in the practice of Latin composition. Leonardo Aretino, in the irritation of his mind, occasioned by his unfortunate quarrel with Niccolo, ascribed his declining to appear in the republic of letters, in the character of an author, to his utter ignorance of the Latin language.[286]But this is undoubtedly one of those calumnies in which the scholars of that age indulged their spleen, without feeling the slightest compunction of conscience. To say nothing of the commendations of the literary acquirements of Niccolo, which occur in the writings of his learned contemporaries, his ample library may be regarded as an evidence of his scholarship. Inmodern times, the possession of an extensive and valuable collection of books is not of itself a certain proof of learning. But when it is considered that Niccolo had himself transcribed many of the volumes which adorned the shelves of his library, and that in the copies which he made of the Roman classics he divided the respective subjects into chapters, and prefixed to these divisions an abstract of their contents—what reason can there be to entertain doubts of his literary abilities? Several of the ancient writings recovered by Poggio abounded in errors, which Niccolo corrected in his transcripts; and he was accustomed to settle the text of the Latin authors by the comparison of various manuscripts. The execution of this task required considerable learning, and in its performance he appears in the venerable character of the parent of the useful art of verbal criticism.[287]