CHAP. VI.
At almost any other period than that of the flight of Eugenius from Rome, the dangers and inconveniences to which Poggio was exposed in following the fortunes of his master, would have been in a great measure counterbalanced by the opportunity which the translation of the pontifical court to Florence afforded him of revisiting the scene of his youthful studies. He was accustomed to regard the Tuscan capital as a sure refuge in the season of calamity, as a hospitable retreat, where, whenever he was oppressed by adverse fortune, he might sooth his cares to rest in the bosom of friendship. But how frequently do events demonstrate the fallaciousness of human expectations! When at the termination of his journey, the stately towers of Florence rose to the view of Poggio, he experienced a sentiment of deep dejection, in reflecting, that amongst the friends whose eagerness to congratulate him on his safe arrival, he anticipated, in pleasing imagination, he should not now behold his illustrious protector, Cosmo de Medici, whom the intrigues of faction had lately banished from his native land. This celebrated man had inherited from his ancestors a considerable property, which he had improved by his own industry and skill in mercantile affairs. In popular governments, riches, if they are diffused with aliberal hand, generally become the means of acquiring power; and if the possessor of wealth unite with generosity the discernment of prudence and the graces of urbanity, he almost infallibly secures to himself the permanent favour of the people. To Cosmo, therefore, in whose character these virtues met in happy conjunction, the Florentine populace looked up with sentiments of enthusiastic admiration. Examining the history of his native city with the eye of a statesman, and meditating upon the civic revolutions which he himself had witnessed, that sagacious politician had observed, that in the contentions for power which had frequently taken place between the aristocracy and the lower orders of the state, the plebeian faction had almost always failed, through want of a leader whose authority might restrain their irregularities, and whose judgment might give to their efforts the consistency and energy of system. In order to supply this deficiency, he placed himself at the head of the popular party, presuming no doubt, that whilst he exercised his splendid talents for the benefit of his adherents, he could at the same time make use of the favour of the people to promote his own emolument and glory.[210]Acting with these views, he soon gained a degree of ascendency in the republic, which enabled him to embarrass the measures of the aristocracy. Cosmo now found by experience, that he who engages in civil dissensions embarks on a sea of troubles. The chiefs of the opposite party regarded him with that hatred, which the privileged orders usually entertain against those who attemptto restrain their ambition and diminish their power. At the head of the nobility was Rinaldo degli Albizzi, who watched the proceedings of Cosmo with all the vigilance of factious jealousy, and resolved to seize the earliest opportunity to effect his destruction. With this view Rinaldo procured the appointment of Bernardo Guadagni, a declared enemy to popular rights, to the office of gonfaloniere, or chief magistrate of the republic. No sooner was Guadagni invested with his new honours, than he made the requisite preparations to subdue the faction of the people. At this time Cosmo was at his country seat at Mugello, a pleasant valley, situated at a small distance from Florence,[211]whither he had withdrawn, in order to avoid the confusion of civil discord; but the proceedings of Guadagni could not be concealed from his partizans, who immediately sent messengers to inform him that his adversaries were meditating some enterprise of a hostile nature. On the receipt of this intelligence Cosmo repaired to Florence, and waiting on some of the chief magistrates whom he regarded as his personal friends, he represented to them the reasons which he had to be alarmed for his safety. Being either ignorant of the designs of Rinaldo, or eager to secure their victim by the base artifices of treachery, these men assured him that he had nothing to fear; and in order to lull his apprehensions to sleep, nominated him as one of a council of eight, by whose advice, as they said, they wished to be guided in the governmentof the state.[212]Cosmo put so much confidence in these demonstrations of friendship, that he readily obeyed a summons which he soon afterwards received, requiring him to attend at a council which was to be held on the seventh of September, 1433, to deliberate upon the best method of securing the tranquillity of the republic. He was no sooner arrived at the palace, than the square in front of that edifice was lined with armed men, commanded by Rinaldo and the other chiefs of the aristocracy. Under the control of this guard the people were summoned to elect two hundred deputies, to whom was to be delegated the important business of deciding upon the reforms which were necessary in the administration of public affairs. These deputies were no sooner chosen, than their attention was directed to Cosmo by his enemies, some of whom loudly demanded his death, as necessary to the preservation of the public tranquillity; whilst others, more moderate in their views, and more merciful in their dispositions, insisted upon it, that this desirable end would be effectually accomplished, by banishing him to a distance from the territories of the republic. During this awful deliberation, Cosmo was detained a prisoner in the palace, from the windows of which, whilst he anxiously endeavoured, by watching the gestures of his judges, to prognosticate his fate, he heard the din of arms, and observed the movements of the troops. The fear of some of the deputies, and the secret attachment of others to the person of Cosmo, preventing the assembly from coming to any immediate determination of his destiny, hewas for the present committed to the custody of Federigo Malavolti. Finding himself thus in the power of his enemies, and understanding that they had not been able to prevail on the deputies to decree his death, he was apprehensive that they would attempt to take him off by poison. Powerfully impressed by this idea, for the space of four days he declined taking any food, except a small portion of bread. The pride of Federigo was offended by this suspicion of his prisoner, whom he is said to have addressed in the following terms:—“Through fear of dying by poison, Cosmo, you are destroying yourself by famine. And have you so little reliance on my honour as to think that I would be accessary to such villainy? So numerous are your friends, that I do not think your life is in any danger; but should your destruction be determined upon, rest assured, that your adversaries will find other means than my assistance to effect their purpose. I would not imbrue my hands in any one’s blood, much less in yours, who have never offended me. Be of good courage—take your food, and live for your friends and your country; and that you may take your repast in full confidence, I will partake of whatsoever you eat.” Overcome by this manly address, Cosmo, with tears in his eyes, embraced his keeper, and vowed, that if fortune should ever put it in his power, he would testify his grateful sense of his kindness.
When the adherents of Cosmo were informed of his imprisonment, they took up arms with a determination to effect his deliverance: but by the direction of his particularfriends, who were justly apprehensive that Rinaldo would be provoked by any hostile attempt on their part to signalize his vengeance by the murder of his prisoner, they retired without accomplishing any thing in his favour. When the news of the arrest of Cosmo reached Venice, the seigniory of that republic took such a lively interest in his fate, that they sent to Florence three ambassadors, who were instructed to exert all their influence in his favour. At last these plenipotentiaries could obtain from the Florentine magistracy nothing more than an assurance that the person of Cosmo should be safe. When he was at length sentenced to be banished to Padua for ten years, they requested from the magistrates that during the term of his exile he might be permitted to reside in their city. The petition of the Venetians was granted; but the triumphant nobles still detained Cosmo in custody as an hostage, to secure the acquiescence of his partizans in the new measures which they intended to adopt for the regulation of the state. They were also prompted to protract his imprisonment by the malicious hope, that the hazardous nature of his situation would injure his commercial credit. When Cosmo found himself thus unexpectedly detained, with the connivance of his keeper he sent a message to his friends, directing them to purchase the favour of Guadagni by the timely application of a sum of money. Influenced by this powerful motive, the mercenary chief magistrate, on the night of the third of October, liberated his prisoner from custody, and conducting him through one of the city gates, suffered him without further molestation to proceed on his route to Padua, from whence he proceeded to Venice. On hisarrival at the latter city, the illustrious exile was met by the principal citizens, who received him with every mark of honour and respect; and he had not long resided there, before the administrators of the Tuscan government were persuaded, by the reiterated instances of the seigniory, to enlarge the sphere of his liberty to the full extent of the territories of the Venetian republic.[213]
In the days of his prosperity, Cosmo had been distinguished as the munificent patron of learned men. To them his doors were constantly open; and his purse was always ready to assist their efforts to promote the diffusion of literature. Poggio had long enjoyed the happiness of being honoured by his particular favour. The pleasing interchange of beneficence and gratitude, which had at an early period taken place between the learned secretary and the princely merchant of Florence, had been matured into the intimacy of the most cordial friendship. Poggio was not one of those sycophants who reserve their homage for the prosperous; and who, with the base foresight which is too frequently dignified with the name of prudence, studiously disengage themselves from the fortunes of a falling family. When he received information that his benefactor had been obliged to yield to the fury of his enemies, he experienced all the emotions of affectionate sympathy; and hastened to testify his undiminished regard for his persecuted friend in the following consolatory epistle.
“Though the serious misfortune in which you are involved is too great to be alleviated by consolation, especially by such consolation as can be administered by one of my moderate abilities—yet, following the dictates of my affection for you, I had rather run the hazard of exposing the feebleness of my genius, than fail in the duty of friendship. It is said that trifling circumstances sometimes produce considerable effects in affairs of the greatest moment; and I may be permitted to indulge the hope, that this epistle may tend, in some small degree, to lighten the weight of your affliction. You have experienced the capriciousness of fortune, (for this goddess we may blame with impunity) and you are fallen from a station of considerable eminence. Now, though I have always observed that you are endowed with a strength of mind which enables you to regard with indifference afflictions which would overwhelm the generality of men, yet when I consider the magnitude of your misfortunes, I cannot but be apprehensive of the effect which they may have upon your feelings. If in your present circumstances you rise in the confidence of courage, superior to the assaults of fortune; if you have placed your independence upon the security of a pure conscience, rather than upon external good; and if you value the blessings of the present life at no higher a rate than is consistent with the dictates of true wisdom—I congratulate you on the acquisition of that happy constitution of mind which renders consolation unnecessary. If, on the other hand, in consequence of the natural frailty incident to humanity,this sudden change in your circumstances has disturbed the tranquillity of your temper, (and before this trial the constancy of the most illustrious men has been found to give way) you must have recourse to the principles of reason, which will suggest to you, that you have lost nothing which can be truly called your own. Dignities, authority, and honours, riches, power, and health, are liable to be impaired by the shocks of fortune, and the machinations of our enemies. But prudence, magnanimity, probity, fortitude, and fidelity, are qualities which we obtain by our own exertions, and which we may retain in defiance of external injury and distress. These virtues you have cultivated as your firmest defence in the hour of danger; and whilst you are possessed of this rich endowment, you should rejoice in the enjoyment of such exquisite blessings, rather than grieve on account of the wrongs which you suffer from your foes. I am well assured, that you are not of the number of those who fix their hopes of happiness on the kindness of fortune. For, notwithstanding the ample possessions, and the exalted honours which you have formerly attained, (possessions and honours superior to any which have fallen to the lot of any other citizen of our state) you have always made it your study to acquire those good qualities of the heart, which render a man independent of externals. In public affairs, uniting prudence in deliberation, with ability in execution, you have always acted with such good faith and integrity, that you reserved for yourself nothing, save honour and glory.Would all men follow so worthy an example, our republic would enjoy much greater tranquillity than falls to her lot at present. You have given the most ample proof of your dutifulness to your native country, of liberality to your friends, and benevolence to all men. You have been the support of the needy, the refuge of the oppressed, the patron and friend of the learned. You have used the gifts of fortune with such moderation, modesty, and kindness, that they appeared to be nothing more than the due reward paid to your virtue and merits. I forbear to dwell upon the literary pursuits in which you have been engaged from the days of your youth, and in which you have made such progress, that you are justly deemed an ornament and an honour to learning. When the important affairs of a public nature, by which your time has of late years been occupied, prevented you from dedicating to study as much time as you wished to have appropriated to that pursuit, you sought instruction and gratification in the conversation of learned men, whom you invited to partake of the hospitality of your house. From these eminent scholars you imbibed the precepts of wisdom, which you resolved to adopt as the rule of your conduct in all circumstances and situations.
“The consciousness of innocence, and the remembrance of virtuous deeds, is the greatest source of consolation in adversity. He who can appeal to his own heart in proof of the uprightness of his intentions—he who can truly say that he has acted honourably bothin his public and private capacity, that he has always studied the promotion of the general good, that he has assisted his friends with wholesome advice, and the poor with money; that he has hurt no one, not even those who had injured him—this man must be well prepared to endure the shock of adversity. A course of conduct, regulated by these principles, confers true and solid dignity. On this foundation you have established your character as a worthy man and an excellent citizen. Acting on these principles, you have risen to immortal glory. Wherever you go, that best of blessings, the testimony of a good conscience, will attend you; and the memory of your virtues will survive when you are laid in the grave.
“Now, since the retrospect of your past conduct affords you such a pure delight, you ought to feel yourself elated by conscious dignity: for on what can we justly pride ourselves, except on the reputation which we have acquired by our virtues? Since, then, you have so strong a fortress, in which you can take refuge in time of trouble, turn your attention to those things which accompany you in your exile, namely, your liberality, your prudence, your gravity, your upright intentions, your discernment, your attachment to your native country, for which you have always testified the utmost affection; and especially in the late civil broils to which you have fallen a victim. I need not remind you of your literary pursuits, which so signally contribute to the alleviation of sorrow, and to the strengthening of themind by the examples and precepts of the most worthy men. For you know that philosophers of old have maintained, that the mind of the wise man is beyond the reach of the impulses of fortune, and that it mocks the efforts of external violence—that virtue is the chief good—and that all other possessions are blessings, or the contrary, according to the disposition of the possessor. But I do not require that you should be of the number of those faultless friends of wisdom, who have, perhaps, never existed, excepting in idea. I only hope that you will be found worthy to class with those, who, according to common acceptation, and the general course of human conduct, are reputed wise.
“And, in the first place, consider how far fortune has exercised her tyranny in your case. For, if you could divest yourself of the first impressions of grief, and coolly consider what she has taken away, and what she has left, you will find that you have sustained little injury—nay, that you have derived benefit from her caprice. She has banished you from your native country, which you have often voluntarily quitted—but she has restored to you your liberty, which you did not enjoy when you seemed to be the freest man in the state. She has deprived you of a certain specious appearance of dignity, and of the respect of the vulgar, who are always mistaken in their estimate of true felicity—but she has left you your children, your wife, your riches, your good health, and your excellent brother: and, surely, the pleasures which these blessings bestow upon you ought far to outweigh themortification which you experience in consequence of your losses. She has taken away from you a kind of civic pomp, and a popularity full of trouble, labour, envy, anxiety, and continual cares. These honours many men eminent for their prudence have despised. Their loss may be a matter of sorrow to those who have endeavoured to convert them into a source of gain; but you, whom they involved in so much labour and difficulty, ought not to be concerned at being deprived of them, especially as they never were the objects of your desire or ambition. For you did not enter upon public offices with a view of promoting your own interest, or of increasing your importance, but with an ardent desire of doing good to the public. Fortune has restored you to real liberty. You were formerly, in fact, a mere slave. You could not follow your own inclinations, either in sleeping or waking, in eating or in taking exercise. Frequently were you prevented, by the imperious claims of public business, from assisting your friends, and indulging in the delights of retirement. Your time was at the disposal of others, and you were obliged to attend to every person’s sentiments. Many favours you were compelled to grant, in direct opposition to your own wishes, nay, even in opposition to the dictates of equity; and you were frequently reduced to the disagreeable necessity of practising the art of dissimulation. This change of fortune has, however, set you at liberty, for it has certainly restored to you the freedom of your will. It has also enabled you to put to the test the constancy of thosewho professed themselves your friends; and it has, moreover, called into exercise the steady fortitude of your soul. All your acquaintance had seen with how great politeness, gentleness, clemency, equity, and moderation, you conducted yourself in the season of prosperity—a season in which men who have attained to some eminence in wisdom have frequently been betrayed into evil. This new species of trial gives you an opportunity of showing the vigour with which you can struggle against the storms of adversity. Many can bear prosperity, who shrink before the impulse of misfortune. Others, who have shone conspicuously in the season of sorrow, have given way to the emotions of vanity and pride in the hour of their exaltation. But you we have beheld neither inflated by arrogance in prosperity, nor sunk into dejection by adversity. In either fortune, you have exhibited an example of the most unruffled equanimity.
“Let the following consideration support you in the midst of your trials—that you are not the first, and that you will not be the last man whose services to his country have been repaid by unmerited exile. History abounds in instances of excellent men, who have been cruelly persecuted by their ungrateful fellow citizens. They who cannot bear the splendour of another’s virtues are unwilling to look upon it. Envy is commonly the companion of glory—envy which always torments those who cannot attain to the eminence of honour; and instigates them to persecute with slander and malevolence the illustrious characters whose virtues they are unable to imitate. Henceit happens, that very few men of superlative talents escape the fury of civil tempests. The fear of giving offence deters me from dwelling upon the instances of this nature, which have occurred in modern times, and in our own republic. But whosoever examines the records of antiquity will find, that the odium excited by civil discord has occasioned the banishment of a considerable number of excellent citizens—and that, not in our country alone, but in other states of the greatest eminence. To say nothing of the Greeks and Barbarians, the Roman republic, even at the time when it is represented as having attained to the highest pitch of glory, was afflicted with this infirmity. A few examples will be sufficient to demonstrate the truth of my assertion. Which of his contemporaries was equal in valour, probity, and illustrious deeds to Furius Camillus? Yet, in consequence of the malevolence of the tribunes and the populace, he was compelled to retire into exile; at a time too when his country stood very much in need of his assistance. You well remember the important services rendered to the Roman commonwealth by Scipio Africanus; you recollect the moderation, continence, and gravity, which shone so conspicuously in the life of the illustrious conqueror of Hannibal—yet he too was driven from his native country by the rage of the tribunes. The uprightness and sanctity of P. Rutilius were the very causes of his banishment. When this man had an opportunity of returning to his country in consequence of Sylla’s victory, he had the honest pride to refuse to fix his residence in a state in which arms were superior to the laws. Thevillany of Clodius expelled M. T. Cicero, the saviour of his country, who is said to have been accustomed to boast, that he was carried back to Rome on the shoulders of all Italy. History has recorded the names of several other renowned men who have shared the same fate: but I have only mentioned these four, the consideration of whose destiny may prevent you from being surprised at your own misfortunes. I shall not pretend to maintain that you are equal to these exalted characters in fame and splendour—but this I will say, that, like them, you have experienced an ungrateful return for your good services to your fellow citizens; and that in one respect your glory is not at all inferior to theirs. For, in my opinion, you deserve to be held in everlasting remembrance for the deference which you paid to the decree of the magistrates, though you knew the doom which awaited you. For when, as it is commonly reported, you could have repelled the meditated injury by the assistance of your partizans, and the interference of the populace, you thought it better to submit to wrong, than to avert it by violence.[214]And as civil tumults never end in good, consulting forthe quiet of your country, and the tranquillity of your fellow citizens, you prudently suffered this sudden storm to waste its fury on yourself and your connections, rather than endanger the republic by exciting the flame of war. By this conduct you have attained to the height—I say not of modern, but of ancient glory. For what is more laudable than that disposition which prompts a man to expose himself to the fury of the billows for the sake of the general safety? Under the influence of that virtue which prefers public to private good, other states have flourished, and the Roman republic attained to universal dominion.
“Protected then as you are by the most illustrious virtues, you ought not to complain. You ought to be thankful to fortune, which has called these virtues into exercise, and has summoned you to a contest, in which you will gain the highest commendation on earth, and eternal glory in heaven. These two things are the objects of the most ardent wishes of good men; for they are the meed of virtue. During the remainder of your life, then, enjoy the blessings which you still possess with a tranquil and peaceful mind; and in whatever land your lot may be cast, think that your country, the theatre of your dignity—the spot where you are called to exert your talents for the promotion of the public good.”[215]
Such were the counsels by which Poggio endeavoured to fortify the mind of his banished patron against the shafts of adverse fortune. His letter breathes the spirit of enlightened friendship, and his choice of topics of consolation evinces an accurate knowledge of the human heart. It may be reasonably conjectured, that Cosmo was highly gratified by this proof of his sincere attachment, and that he profited by his good advice. But the administration of wholesome counsel was not the only mode in which Poggio, on this occasion, testified his zeal in the cause of his persecuted benefactor. In the intercourses of friendship, his temperament disposed him strongly to sympathize with the resentment of those whom he regarded with sentiments of esteem and affection. Consequently the injuries sustained by Cosmo inspired him with the utmost degree of animosity against the family of the Albizzi, and all their partizans and abettors. This animosity against the enemies of his exiled friend, which he took no pains to disguise, soon involved him in a most violent quarrel with the celebrated Francesco Filelfo, who had been induced by the turbulence of his temper, to intermeddle in the political disputes which had for a long space of time disturbed the tranquillity of Florence, and to discharge the venom of his spleen against the house of Medici and all its adherents.
This extraordinary man was born at Tolentino, on the twenty-fifth of July, 1398. Having given early indications of a love of literature, he was sent to prosecute his studies in the university of Padua. In this seminaryhe made such an uncommon proficiency, that when he had attained the age of eighteen, he read lectures on eloquence to numerous audiences. The reputation which he had acquired by this early display of brilliant talents procured him an invitation to instruct the noble youth of Venice in polite literature. This invitation he readily accepted; and in the discharge of his public duties he acquitted himself so much to the satisfaction of his employers, that he was presented with the freedom of the state. In the course of a little time after his settlement in Venice, the seigniory testified their sense of his merits by appointing him to the office of secretary to the embassy which they usually maintained at Constantinople. This office he retained for the space of two years, at the end of which period he entered into the service of the Greek emperor, John Palæologus, who employed him in affairs of the greatest consequence. In the character of confidential agent or envoy of that monarch, he visited the courts of Amurath II. the Turkish sultan, and of Sigismund, emperor of Germany. During his residence at Constantinople he married Theodora, the daughter of a noble Greek, the celebrated John Crysoloras. In the year 1427 he quitted Constantinople and returned to Venice. As he had assiduously improved the opportunities which he had lately enjoyed of cultivating the knowledge of Grecian literature, he expected, on his return to his adopted country, to be hailed as the champion of science, and the restorer of learning.[216]But in this expectationhe was disappointed. His name no longer possessed the charm of novelty. The interest which was occasioned on his first visit to Venice, by the circumstance of his filling the professor’s chair at so early an age, was naturally weakened by the lapse of nearly eight years; and in all probability the jealous aristocracy of the Venetian capital resented his quitting the service of their state for the honours and emoluments of the Byzantine court. These causes concurred to render his reception at Venice by no means flattering to his feelings. The mortification which he experienced on this occasion was heightened by thedeplorable state of his finances, which the expenses of his increasing family had reduced to a very low ebb. From these circumstances of embarrassment he was relieved by the liberality of the citizens of Bologna, who invited him to read lectures on eloquence and moral philosophy in their university; and engaged to requite his services by an annual stipend of four hundred and fifty gold crowns. Readily accepting this invitation, he repaired to Bologna with all convenient speed. Soon after he had entered upon his new office, that city, which had lately revolted from Martin V., was doomed to suffer the horrors of a siege, in consequence of which literary pursuits were entirely suspended. Thus circumstanced, Filelfo began to feel no small degree of anxiety, not only concerning the means of his future support, but also for the safety of himself and his family. His uneasiness was, however, mitigated by the receipt of very friendly letters from Niccolo Niccoli and Pallas Strozza, urging him to quit Bologna, and exercise his talents for public instruction in Florence.[217]After a negociation of some length, he agreed to give lectures on the Greek and Roman classics, for the consideration of an annual salary of three hundred gold crowns, to be paid out of the revenues of the state. But when he had concluded this agreement, he experienced very considerable difficulties in effecting his departure from Bologna, which was closely invested by the pontifical army. These difficulties being at length overcome, he hastened to Florence, wherehe was received with every demonstration of respect, and commenced his labours with the utmost zeal.[218]The following sketch of his first lectures, which is preserved in the works of Ambrogio Traversari, demonstrates that in the execution of his engagement he exerted a most laudable degree of industry. At the dawn of day he explained and commented upon Cicero’s Tusculan questions, the first decad of Livy, Cicero’s treatise on Rhetoric, and Homer’s Iliad. After an interval of a few hours, he delivered extraordinary lectures on Terence, Cicero’s Epistles and Orations, Thucydides and Xenophon. In addition to this laborious course of instruction, he also daily read a lecture on Morals.[219]Such was the arduous task undertaken by Filelfo—a task which demanded the exertions of a literary Hercules. He was, however, animated to the endurance of toil by the number and dignity of his audience, which daily consisted of four hundred persons, many of whom were not less eminent for their literary acquirements, than for the rank which they held in the state.[220]
On Filelfo’s arrival in Florence, he found the inhabitants of that city divided into factions, and was by no means insensible of the difficulties which he had to encounter in endeavouring to avoid being involved in theirdisputes.[221]For the space of two years he seems to have acted with becoming discretion, and to have pursued his literary occupations without rendering himself subservient to the views of either party. His prudence was rewarded by an increase of his salary, which was augmented, towards the latter end of the year 1432, to the sum of three hundred and fifty gold crowns.[222]Unfortunately however for his peace of mind, he had not resided long at Florence, before he began to suspect that Niccolo Niccoli and Carlo Aretino, the latter of whom was one of the most accomplished of the Tuscan scholars, moved by envy of his literary fame, regarded him with sentiments of determined hostility. The irritable temper of Niccolo was indeed provoked by the supercilious pride of the new Coryphæus, who, without the least reserve of diffidence, assumed the high degree of eminence in the scale of importance to which he deemed himself entitled, and looked down upon the learned Florentines with undisguised disdain. Well knowing the intimacy which subsisted between Niccolo Niccoli and Cosmo de’ Medici, Filelfo took it for granted, that the latter would adopt the quarrels of his friend, and consequently apprehended that he had much to dread from the effects of his resentment. In this apprehension he was confirmed by the manifest coolness with which he was treated by Lorenzo, the brother of Cosmo; and he regarded the assurances which he received from the latter, that his suspicions with respect to himself were groundless,as a refinement of malice, intended to betray him into a fatal security.[223]His dread of the machinations of his enemies was also increased by a violent attack made upon him in the streets of Florence, by one Filippo, a noted assassin, by whom he was severely wounded in the face.[224]
Whilst Filelfo was brooding over his real or imagined wrongs, a contest arose between the two factions which divided the city of Florence, in consequence of a quarrel which had occurred between the houses of Soderini and Guzano.[225]On this occasion he publicly enlisted himself on the side of the aristocracy, and under the pretext of honest indignation against injustice, gratified his personal resentment, by publishing a poetical philippic against the factious disposition of the Florentine populace, into the commencement of which he introduced a violent attack upon the family of the Medici.[226]Not contented with this act of provocation, he afterwards turned the artillery of his wrath directly against Cosmo, whom he insulted in a satire against confidence in riches, in which he attemptedto disguise the reproaches of malevolence in the garb of philosophic advice.
The well known liberality of Cosmo’s disposition, the laudable uses to which he appropriated a considerable portion of his vast wealth, and the engaging familiarity with which he was accustomed to converse with people of merit in every class of life, constituted the most convincing proof of the malignant falsehood of this libel; and the adherents of the house of Medici would have done well, had they treated it with contempt. But thirsting for revenge, they endeavoured to expel the offending satirist from the city, by inducing the assembly of the people considerably to diminish the salaries allowed to the public instructors maintained by the state. To this defalcation of their revenues, the other professors patiently submitted; but Filelfo appealed to the senate, and by the power of his eloquence persuaded that body to restore their literary servants to their former footing in point of emolument. He had also the good fortune to procure the abrogation of a second ordinance obtained by his enemies, whereby the whole of the sums annually granted for the support of public education were marked as objects of retrenchment.[227]
Irritated by these hostile measures, Filelfo declared open war against Cosmo and his friends. He poured forth a torrent of invective in a series of satires, in which theseverity of Juvenal, and his nauseous delineations of atrocious vices, are much more successfully imitated than the sublimity of his moral precepts, or the dignity of his style. The bitterness of Filelfo’s wrath was particularly directed against Niccolo Niccoli, whom, sometimes under the contemptuous appellation of Utis, and sometimes under the fanciful designation of Lycolaus, he charged with envy of the learned—hatred of the virtuous—extravagant anger—infidelity—blasphemy—and the most disgusting impurities which have ever swelled the black catalogue of human crimes.[228]
The arrest of Cosmo de’ Medici filled the heart of Filelfo with the greatest joy, as it not only freed him from the dread of a formidable adversary, but also gratified his pride, by fulfilling certain prophetic denunciations with which he had concluded his satire against confidence in wealth. In the exhilaration of triumph, he exultedover the fallen demagogue, to whom he gave the fictitious name of Mundus, in a copy of verses, in the conclusion of which he earnestly exhorted the Florentine nobility not to endanger the safety of the state, by commuting the punishment of death, which their prisoner merited, for the lighter penalty of banishment.[229]Happily for Cosmo, as it has been already related, the sanguinary counsels of his personal enemies were rejected.
Thus when Poggio arrived in Florence, he found the party of his kindest friends reduced to a state of irksome humiliation—his most powerful protector driven into exile; and his most intimate associates daily annoyed by the rancorous effusions of a libeller, whose malignant imagination seemed to supply an inexhaustible store of topics of abuse. In these circumstances, by the fidelity of hisattachment to the persecuted partizans of the Medici, he drew down upon his own head the lightning of Filelfo’s wrath; and he soon found himself exhibited as a conspicuous figure in the groups of outrageous caricaturas drawn by the bold hand of the enraged satirist.[230]During the exile of Cosmo, his dread of incurring the displeasure of the ruling faction induced him to submit to obloquy in silence; and Filelfo enjoyed the mean triumph of those who wantonly malign an adversary whose pen is restrained by the strong hand of the civil power. But this triumphwas of short duration. The first year of Cosmo’s banishment was not expired, before he was recalled by the commanding voice of the people. On his approach to the city his enemies fled; and amongst the rest, Filelfo, conscious of the provocations by which he had stimulated his resentment, hastily quitted Florence, and withdrew to Siena.[231]
Poggio expressed his joy on the return of his friend in a long epistle, in the commencement of which he intimated, that he had chosen that mode of address in preference to a personal congratulation, in order that his commendation of his patron might be diffused amongst such of the learned as felt an interest in the perusal of his compositions. He then proceeded to dilate at considerable length upon the unanimity with which the Florentine people passed the decree of the recall of Cosmo, which, he justly observed, was a most distinguished proof of his merits. “This is,” said he, “in my opinion, the greatest subject of congratulation in your case—that all ranks concurred in bearing testimony to your dignity and virtue. So earnest was the desire of your return, that the inconveniences resulting to yourself from your exile, must be far overbalanced by the unprecedented honour and affection with which your fellow citizens have received you on your return to your native country.” He concluded this epistle by exhorting his friend to persevere in those virtuous principles which had been his support in the day of adversity,and which had caused him to be restored to the exalted rank in the state from which he had been for a short period displaced by the intrigues of faction.[232]
Poggio had long meditated a signal retaliation of the insults which he had experienced from Filelfo; and no sooner did the Medici regain their ascendancy in the republic, than he proceeded to administer to the acrimonious Tolentine the merciless severity of a literary castigation. Wisely stepping forward as the indignant friend of the injured Niccolo Niccoli, rather than as the avenger of his own wrongs, he published an invective against Filelfo, in which he almost exhausted the Latin language in the accumulation of epithets of abuse. Noticing the obscenity of the satire which, as he says, Filelfo “had vomited forth against his friend, from the feculent stores of his putrid mouth,” he reproved him for the use of terms and phrases which even a strumpet of any degree of reputation would be ashamed to utter. The propensity of the satirist to the adoption of such language, he ascribed to the early taste which he had acquired for impurity, in consequence of the occupation of his mother, whom he represented as living at Rimini, engaged in the most sordid offices.[233]Tracing the history of his antagonist from his earliest days,he alleged, that he was banished from Padua, in consequence of his indulgence of the most depraved propensities; and that, when he had been hospitably entertained at Constantinople by John Crysoloras, he repaid the kindness of his host by debauching his daughter. By the perpetration of this crime, if credit may be given to the assertions of Poggio, Filelfo obtained the hand of a lady, to whom, if her conduct had been in any degree answerable to the nobility of her descent, he would never have had the audacity to aspire.[234]Finally, the enraged secretary accused his adversary of bartering the honour of his wife for the most vicious gratifications, and concluded his invective by proposing to ornament his brows—not with a wreath of laurel, but with a crown more befitting the filthiness of his conversation.[235]
This scurrility, as it might have been naturally expected, served only to inflame the hostile passions whichhad so long rankled in the breast of Filelfo, and to direct his fury against his new assailant. The exiled professor, accordingly, once more dipping his pen in gall, traduced the morals, and vilified the talents of Poggio, in a bitter satire of one hundred verses in length; of the virulence of which the reader may form some idea from the following translation of its commencement.
Poggio! ere long thy babbling tongue shall feelThe keen impression of the trenchant steel;That tongue, the herald of malicious lies,That sheds its venom on the good and wise.What mighty master in detraction’s school,Thus into knavery has matured a fool?Has Niccolo—that scandal of the times,Taught thee to dare the last extreme of crimes?Yes! taught by Niccolo, thou spreadst thy rageO’er the wide area of thy feeble page.Fain wouldst thou pour the torrent of thine ireFrom lips that glow with all a Tully’s fire;But, thy weak nerves by stale debauch unstrung,Thy half-formed accents tremble on thy tongue.Of filth enamoured, like a hideous swine,Daily thou wallowest in a sea of wine.Earth, air, and ocean, join their ample store,To cram thy maw, that ceaseless craves for more;And, worse than beast! to raise thy deaden’d gust,In nature’s spite thou satest thy monstrous lust.Black list of crimes! but not enough to fillPoggio, thy ample register of ill.Like some black viper, whose pestiferous breathSpreads through the ambient air the seeds of death,Obscure and still thou wind’st thy crooked way,And unsuspecting virtue falls thy prey.[236]
Poggio! ere long thy babbling tongue shall feelThe keen impression of the trenchant steel;That tongue, the herald of malicious lies,That sheds its venom on the good and wise.What mighty master in detraction’s school,Thus into knavery has matured a fool?Has Niccolo—that scandal of the times,Taught thee to dare the last extreme of crimes?Yes! taught by Niccolo, thou spreadst thy rageO’er the wide area of thy feeble page.Fain wouldst thou pour the torrent of thine ireFrom lips that glow with all a Tully’s fire;But, thy weak nerves by stale debauch unstrung,Thy half-formed accents tremble on thy tongue.Of filth enamoured, like a hideous swine,Daily thou wallowest in a sea of wine.Earth, air, and ocean, join their ample store,To cram thy maw, that ceaseless craves for more;And, worse than beast! to raise thy deaden’d gust,In nature’s spite thou satest thy monstrous lust.Black list of crimes! but not enough to fillPoggio, thy ample register of ill.Like some black viper, whose pestiferous breathSpreads through the ambient air the seeds of death,Obscure and still thou wind’st thy crooked way,And unsuspecting virtue falls thy prey.[236]
Poggio! ere long thy babbling tongue shall feelThe keen impression of the trenchant steel;That tongue, the herald of malicious lies,That sheds its venom on the good and wise.What mighty master in detraction’s school,Thus into knavery has matured a fool?Has Niccolo—that scandal of the times,Taught thee to dare the last extreme of crimes?Yes! taught by Niccolo, thou spreadst thy rageO’er the wide area of thy feeble page.Fain wouldst thou pour the torrent of thine ireFrom lips that glow with all a Tully’s fire;But, thy weak nerves by stale debauch unstrung,Thy half-formed accents tremble on thy tongue.Of filth enamoured, like a hideous swine,Daily thou wallowest in a sea of wine.Earth, air, and ocean, join their ample store,To cram thy maw, that ceaseless craves for more;And, worse than beast! to raise thy deaden’d gust,In nature’s spite thou satest thy monstrous lust.Black list of crimes! but not enough to fillPoggio, thy ample register of ill.Like some black viper, whose pestiferous breathSpreads through the ambient air the seeds of death,Obscure and still thou wind’st thy crooked way,And unsuspecting virtue falls thy prey.[236]
Poggio! ere long thy babbling tongue shall feel
The keen impression of the trenchant steel;
That tongue, the herald of malicious lies,
That sheds its venom on the good and wise.
What mighty master in detraction’s school,
Thus into knavery has matured a fool?
Has Niccolo—that scandal of the times,
Taught thee to dare the last extreme of crimes?
Yes! taught by Niccolo, thou spreadst thy rage
O’er the wide area of thy feeble page.
Fain wouldst thou pour the torrent of thine ire
From lips that glow with all a Tully’s fire;
But, thy weak nerves by stale debauch unstrung,
Thy half-formed accents tremble on thy tongue.
Of filth enamoured, like a hideous swine,
Daily thou wallowest in a sea of wine.
Earth, air, and ocean, join their ample store,
To cram thy maw, that ceaseless craves for more;
And, worse than beast! to raise thy deaden’d gust,
In nature’s spite thou satest thy monstrous lust.
Black list of crimes! but not enough to fill
Poggio, thy ample register of ill.
Like some black viper, whose pestiferous breath
Spreads through the ambient air the seeds of death,
Obscure and still thou wind’st thy crooked way,
And unsuspecting virtue falls thy prey.[236]
The publication of this poem again roused the vindictive spirit of Poggio, who retorted the acrimony of his adversary in a second invective, in which he accused him of the basest ingratitude to those who had treated him with the most distinguished kindness. Amongst these he particularly enumerated Niccolo Niccoli, Ambrogio Traversari,Carlo and Leonardo Aretino, Francesco Barbaro, Guarino Veronese, and several others, all of whom, he asserted, being disgusted by the petulance and scandalous immorality of Filelfo, had found themselves compelled to withdraw from him their countenance and support. Warmed by his subject, Poggio concluded this philippic with the following impassioned burst of scurrility. “Thou stinking he-goat! thou horned monster! thou malevolent detracter! thou father of lies and author of discord! May the divine vengeance destroy thee as an enemy of the virtuous, a parricide who endeavourest to ruin the wise and good by lies and slanders, and the most false and foul imputations. If thou must be contumelious, write thy satires against the suitors of thy wife—discharge the putridity of thy stomach upon those who adorn thy forehead with horns.”
Such was the style in which Poggio and Filelfo, two of the most learned men of their age, conducted their disputes. In their mutual accusations, so evidently do they aim at exhausting every topic of obloquy, without the slightest regard to veracity, that it is impossible for the acutest judgment, by the most careful examination of the odious mass of their allegations, to distinguish truth from falsehood. Thus does their acrimony defeat its own purpose: for who will give credit to those, who, in the heat of altercation, set decency at defiance; and forgetting what is due to their own dignity, concentrate all their powers in an endeavour to overwhelm their adversary by virulent and foul abuse? It may, however, be observed,that in this unmanly warfare Filelfo had the advantage, in consequence of his superior sagacity in the choice of his weapons. In these encounters, a prose invective is like a ponderous mace, the unmanageable weight of which is the best security of him at whom the blow is aimed. But he who annoys his antagonist by poetic effusions, assails him with an instrument, which affords full scope for the exercise of the most consummate dexterity. The effect of abusive attacks against character or talents upon him who is the subject of obloquy, is generally proportionate to the reception which those attacks experience from the public. And it is obvious to remark, that a dilated oration is almost uniformly wearisome to the reader, and few of its passages are remembered after its perusal; but the happy turn of an epigram, or the pointed numbers of a lengthened satire, captivate the fancy, strongly arrest the public attention, and make a durable impression on the memory. Thus do the lashes of poetic wit produce a poignant and a lasting smart; and truly unfortunate is he who, in consequence of the provocation of literary wrath, becomes