THE BEGINNINGS OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE
The question as to when the Middle Ages came to an end cannot be
answered with a specific date, or even with a particular century. The
transition from the mediaeval world to the modern was gradual and was
accomplished at a much earlier period in some lines than in others.
Roughly speaking, the change fell within the two centuries and a half
from 1300 to 1550. This transitional epoch is commonly designated the
Age of the Renaissance, though if the term is taken in its most proper
sense as denoting the flowering of an old into a new culture it
scarcely does justice to the period, for political and religious
developments in these centuries were not less fundamental than the
revival and fresh stimulus of culture. But in the earlier portion of
the period, particularly the fourteenth century, the intellectual
awakening was the most obvious feature of the movement and, for the
time being, the most important.
The renaissance of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries was not the
first that Europe had known. There had been a notable revival of
learning in the time of Charlemagne--the so-called Carolingian
renaissance; another at the end of the tenth century, in the time of
the Emperor Otto III. and Pope Sylvester II.; and a third in the
twelfth century, with its center in northern France. The first two,
however, had proved quite transitory, and even the third and most
promising had dried up in the fruitless philosophy of the scholastics.
Before there could be a vital and permanent intellectual revival it
was indispensable that the mediaeval attitude of mind undergo a
fundamental change. This attitude may be summed up in the one phrase,
the absolute dominance of "authority"--the authority, primarily, of
the Church, supplemented by the writings of a few ancients like
Aristotle. The scholars of the earlier Middle Ages busied themselves,
not with research and investigation whereby to increase knowledge, but
rather with commenting on the Scriptures, the writings of the Church
fathers, and Aristotle, and drawing conclusions and inferences by
reasoning from these accepted authorities. There was no disposition to
question what was found in the books, or to supplement it with fresh
information. Only after about 1300 did human interests become
sufficiently broadened to make men no longer altogether content with
the mere process of threshing over the old straw. Gradually there
began to appear scholars who suggested the idea, novel for the day,
that the books did not contain all that was worth knowing, and also
that perchance some things that had long gone unquestioned just
because they were in the books were not true after all. In other
words, they proposed to investigate things for themselves and to apply
the tests of observation and impartial reason.
The most influential factor in producing this change of attitude was
the revival of classical literature and learning. The Latin classics,
and even some of the Greek, had not been unknown in the earlier Middle
Ages, but they had not been read widely, and when read at all they had
been valued principally as models of rhetoric rather than as a living
literature to be enjoyed for the ideas that were contained in it and
the forms in which they were expressed. These ideas were, of course,
generally pagan, and that in itself was enough to cause the Church to
look askance at the use of classical writings, except for grammatical
or antiquarian purposes. In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries,
however, due to a variety of causes, the reading of the classics
became commoner than since Roman days, and men, bringing to them more
open minds, were profoundly attracted by the fresh, original, human
ideas of life and the world with which Vergil and Horace and Cicero,
for example, overflowed. It was all a new discovery of the world and
of man, and from the _humanitas_ which the scholars found set forth as
the classical conception of culture they themselves took the name of
"humanists," while the subjects of their studies came to be known as
the _litterae humaniores_. This first great phase of the
Renaissance--the birth of humanism--found its finest expression in
Dante and Petrarch, and it cannot be studied with better effect than
in certain of the writings of these two men.
79. Dante's Defense of Italian as a Literary Language
Dante Alighieri was born at Florence in 1265. Of his early life little
is known. His family seems to have been too obscure to have much part
in the civil struggles with which Florence, and all Italy, in that day
were vexed. The love affair with Beatrice, whose story Boccaccio
relates with so much zest, is the one sharply-defined feature of
Dante's youth and early manhood. It is known that at the age of
eighteen the young Florentine was a poet and was winning wide
recognition for his sonnets. Much time was devoted by him to study of
literature and the arts, but the details of his employments,
intellectual and otherwise, are impossible to make out. In 1290
occurred the death of Beatrice, which event marked an epoch in the
poetical lover's life. In his sorrow he took refuge in the study of
such books as Boethius's _Consolations of Philosophy_ and Cicero's
_Friendship_, and became deeply interested in literary, and especially
philosophical, problems. In 1295 he entered political life, taking
from the outset a prominent part in the deliberations of the
Florentine General Council and the Council of Consuls of the Arts. He
assumed a firm attitude against all forms of lawlessness and in
resistance to any external interference in Florentine affairs. Owing
to conditions which he could not influence, however, his career in
this direction was soon cut short and most of the remainder of his
life was spent as a political exile, at Lucca, Verona, Ravenna, and
other Italian cities, with a possible visit to Paris. He died at
Ravenna, September 14, 1321, in his fifty-seventh year.
Dante has well been called "the Janus-faced," because he stood at the
threshold of the new era and looked both forward and backward. His
_Divine Comedy_ admirably sums up the mediaeval spirit, and yet it
contains many suggestions of the coming age. His method was
essentially that of the scholastics, but he knew many of the classics
and had a genuine respect for them as literature. He was a mediaevalist
in his attachment to the Holy Roman Empire, yet he cherished the
purely modern ambition of a united Italy. It is deeply significant
that he chose to write his great poem--one of the most splendid in the
world's literature--in the Italian tongue rather than the Latin. Aside
from the fact that this, more than anything else, caused the Tuscan
dialect, rather than the rival Venetian and Neapolitan dialects, to
become the modern Italian, it evidenced the new desire for the
popularization of literature which was a marked characteristic of the
dawning era. Not content with putting his greatest effort in the
vernacular, Dante undertook formally to defend the use of the popular
tongue for literary purposes. This he did in _Il Convito_ ("The
Banquet"), a work whose date is quite uncertain, but which was
undoubtedly produced at some time while its author was in exile. It is
essentially a prose commentary upon three _canzoni_ written for the
honor and glory of the "noble, beautiful, and most compassionate lady,
Philosophy." In it Dante sought to set philosophy free from the
schools and from the heavy disputations of the scholars and to render
her beauty visible even to the unlearned. It was the first important
work on philosophy written in the Italian tongue, an innovation which
the author rightly regarded as calling for some explanation and
defense. The passage quoted from it below comprises this defense.
Similar views on the nobility of the vulgar language, as compared with
the Latin, were later set forth in fuller form in the treatise _De
Vulgari Eloquentia_.
Source--Dante Alighieri, _Il Convito_ ["The Banquet"], Bk. I.,
Chaps. 5-13 _passim_. Translated by Katharine Hillard (London,
1889), pp. 17-47 _passim_.
[Sidenote: Reasons for using the Italian]
V. =1.= This bread being cleansed of its accidental
impurities,[601] we have now but to free it from one [inherent] in
its substance, that is, its being in the vulgar tongue, and not in
Latin; so that we might metaphorically call it made of oats instead
of wheat. And this [fault] may be briefly excused by three reasons,
which moved me to prefer the former rather than the latter
[language]. The first arises from care to avoid an unfit order of
things; the second, from a consummate liberality; the third, from a
natural love of one's own tongue. And I intend here in this manner
to discuss, in due order, these things and their causes, that I
may free myself from the reproach above named.
[Sidenote: The Latin fixed, the Italian changeable]
=3.= For, in the first place, had it [the commentary] been in
Latin, it would have been sovereign rather than subject, by its
nobility, its virtue, and its beauty. By its nobility, because
Latin is enduring and incorruptible, and the vulgar tongue is
unstable and corruptible. For we see that the ancient books of
Latin tragedy and comedy cannot be changed from the form we have
to-day, which is not the case with the vulgar tongue, as that can
be changed at will. For we see in the cities of Italy, if we take
notice of the past fifty years, how many words have been lost, or
invented, or altered; therefore, if a short time can work such
changes, how much more can a longer period effect! So that I think,
should they who departed this life a thousand years ago return to
their cities, they would believe them to be occupied by a foreign
people, so different would the language be from theirs. Of this I
shall speak elsewhere more fully, in a book which I intend to
write, God willing, on _Vulgar Eloquence_.[602]
[Sidenote: Translations cannot preserve the literary splendor of
the originals]
VII. =4.= ... The Latin could only have explained them [the
_canzoni_] to scholars; for the rest would not have understood it.
Therefore, as among those who desire to understand them there are
many more illiterate than learned, it follows that the Latin would
not have fulfilled this behest as well as the vulgar tongue, which
is understood both by the learned and the unlearned. Also the Latin
would have explained them to people of other nations, such as
Germans, English, and others; in doing which it would have exceeded
their order.[603] For it would have been against their will I say,
speaking generally, to have explained their meaning where their
beauty could not go with it. And, moreover, let all observe that
nothing harmonized by the laws of the Muses[604] can be changed
from its own tongue to another one without destroying all its
sweetness and harmony. And this is the reason why Homer is not
turned from Greek into Latin like the other writings we have of
theirs [the Greeks];[605] and this is why the verses of the
Psalter[606] lack musical sweetness and harmony; for they have been
translated from Hebrew to Greek, and from Greek to Latin, and in
the first translation all this sweetness perished.
IX. =1.= ... The Latin would not have served many; because, if we
recall to mind what has already been said, scholars in other
languages than the Italian could not have availed themselves of its
service.[607] And of those of this speech (if we should care to
observe who they are) we shall find that only to one in a thousand
could it really have been of use; because they would not have
received it, so prone are they to base desires, and thus deprived
of that nobility of soul which above all desires this food. And to
their shame I say that they are not worthy to be called scholars,
because they do not pursue learning for its own sake, but for the
money or the honors that they gain thereby; just as we should not
call him a lute-player who kept a lute in the house to hire out,
and not to play upon.
[Sidenote: The Italian of more solid excellence than other tongues]
X. =5.= Again, I am impelled to defend it [the vulgar tongue] from
many of its accusers, who disparage it and commend others, above
all the language of _Oco_,[608] saying that the latter is better
and more beautiful than the former, wherein they depart from the
truth. Wherefore by this commentary shall be seen the great
excellence of the vulgar tongue of _Si_,[609] because (although the
highest and most novel conceptions can be almost as fittingly,
adequately, and beautifully expressed in it as in the Latin) its
excellence in rhymed pieces, on account of the accidental
adornments connected with them, such as rhyme and rhythm, or
ordered numbers, cannot be perfectly shown; as it is with the
beauty of a woman, when the splendor of her jewels and her garments
draw more admiration than her person.[610] Wherefore he who would
judge a woman truly looks at her when, unaccompanied by any
accidental adornment, her natural beauty alone remains to her; so
shall it be with this commentary, wherein shall be seen the
facility of its language, the propriety of its diction, and the
sweet discourse it shall hold; which he who considers well shall
see to be full of the sweetest and most exquisite beauty. But
because it is most virtuous in its design to show the futility and
malice of its accuser, I shall tell, for the confounding of those
who attack the Italian language, the purpose which moves them to do
this; and upon this I shall now write a special chapter, that their
infamy may be the more notorious.
[Sidenote: Why people of Italy affect to despise their native
tongue]
XI. =1.= To the perpetual shame and abasement of those wicked men
of Italy who praise the language of others and disparage their own,
I would say that their motive springs from five abominable causes.
The first is intellectual blindness; the second, vicious excuses;
the third, greed of vain-glory; the fourth, an argument based on
envy; the fifth and last, littleness of soul, that is,
pusillanimity. And each of these vices has so large a following,
that few are they who are free from them....
[Sidenote: The unskilful attribute their faults to the language]
=3.= The second kind work against our language by vicious excuses.
These are they who would rather be considered masters than be such;
and, to avoid the reverse (that is, not to be considered masters),
they always lay the blame upon the materials prepared for their
art, or upon their tools; as the bad smith blames the iron given
him, and the bad lute-player blames the lute, thinking thus to lay
the fault of the bad knife or the bad playing upon the iron or the
lute, and to excuse themselves. Such are they (and they are not
few) who wish to be considered orators; and in order to excuse
themselves for not speaking, or for speaking badly, blame and
accuse their material, that is, their own language, and praise that
of others in which they are not required to work. And whoever
wishes to see wherein this tool [the vulgar tongue] deserves blame,
let him look at the work that good workmen have done with it, and
he will recognize the viciousness of those who, laying the blame
upon it, think they excuse themselves. Against such does Tullius
exclaim, in the beginning of one of his books called _De
Finibus_,[611] because in his time they blamed the Latin language
and commended the Greek, for the same reasons that these people
consider the Italian vile and the Provencal precious.
[Sidenote: People should use their own language, as being most
natural to them]
XII. =3.= That thing is nearest to a person which is, of all things
of its kind, the most closely related to himself; thus of all men
the son is nearest to the father, and of all arts medicine is
nearest to the doctor, and music to the musician, because these are
more closely related to them than any others; of all countries, the
one a man lives in is nearest to him, because it is most closely
related to him. And thus a man's own language is nearest to him,
because most closely related, being that one which comes alone and
before all others in his mind, and not only of itself is it thus
related, but by accident, inasmuch as it is connected with those
nearest to him, such as his kinsmen, and his fellow-citizens, and
his own people. And this is his own language, which is not only
near, but the very nearest, to every one. Because if proximity be
the seed of friendship, as has been stated above, it is plain that
it has been one of the causes of the love I bear my own language,
which is nearer to me than the others. The above-named reason (that
is, that we are most nearly related to that which is first in our
mind) gave rise to that custom of the people which makes the
firstborn inherit everything, as the nearest of kin; and, because
the nearest, therefore the most beloved.
[Sidenote: The Italian fulfils the highest requirement of a
language]
=4.= And again, its goodness makes me its friend. And here we must
know that every good quality properly belonging to a thing is
lovable in that thing; as men should have a fine beard, and women
should have the whole face quite free from hair; as the foxhound
should have a keen scent, and the greyhound great speed. And the
more peculiar this good quality, the more lovable it is, whence,
although all virtue is lovable in man, that is most so which is
most peculiarly human.... And we see that, of all things pertaining
to language, the power of adequately expressing thought is the most
loved and commended; therefore this is its peculiar virtue. And as
this belongs to our own language, as has been proved above in
another chapter, it is plain that this was one of the causes of my
love for it; since, as we have said, goodness is one of the causes
that engender love.
80. Dante's Conception of the Imperial Power
The best known prose work of Dante, the _De Monarchia_, is perhaps the
most purely idealistic political treatise ever written. Its quality of
idealism is so pronounced, in fact, that there is not even sufficient
mention of contemporary men or events to assist in solving the wholly
unsettled problem of the date of its composition. The _De Monarchia_
is composed of three books, each of which is devoted to a fundamental
question in relation to the balance of temporal and spiritual
authority. The first question is whether the temporal monarchy is
necessary for the well-being of the world. The answer is, that it is
necessary for the preservation of justice, freedom, and unity and
effectiveness of human effort. The second question is whether the
Roman people took to itself this dignity of monarchy, or empire, by
right. By a survey of Roman history from the days of Aeneas to those of
Caesar it is made to appear that it was God's will that the Romans
should rule the world. The third question is the most vital of all and
its answer constitutes the pith of the treatise. In brief it is, does
the authority of the Roman monarch, or emperor, who is thus by right
the monarch of the world, depend immediately upon God, or upon some
vicar of God, the successor of Peter? This question Dante answers
first negatively by clearing away the familiar defenses of spiritual
supremacy, and afterwards positively, by bringing forward specific
arguments for the temporal superiority. The selection given below
comprises the most suggestive portions of Dante's treatment of this
aspect of his subject. The method, it will be observed, is quite
thoroughly scholastic. Whenever the _De Monarchia_ was composed, it
remained all but unknown until after the author's death (1321); but
with the renewal of conflict between papacy and imperial power the
imperialists were not slow to make use of the treatise, and by the
middle of the fourteenth century it had become known throughout
Europe, being admired by one party as much as it was abhorred by the
other. At various times copies of it were burned as heretical and in
the sixteenth century it was placed by the Roman authorities upon the
Index of Prohibited Books. Few literary productions of the later
Middle Ages exercised greater influence upon contemporary thought and
politics.
Source--Dante Alighieri, _De Monarchia_ ["Concerning
Monarchy"], Bk. III., Chaps. 1-16 _passim_. Translated by
Aurelia Henry (Boston, 1904), pp. 137-206 _passim_.
[Sidenote: The problem to be considered]
I. =2.= The question pending investigation, then, concerns two
great luminaries, the Roman Pontiff [Pope] and the Roman Prince
[Emperor]; and the point at issue is whether the authority of the
Roman monarch, who, as proved in the second book, is rightful
monarch of the world, is derived from God directly, or from some
vicar or minister of God, by whom I mean the successor of Peter,
indisputable keeper of the keys of the kingdom of heaven.
IV. =1.= Those men to whom the entire subsequent discussion is
directed assert that the authority of the Empire depends on the
authority of the Church, just as the inferior artisan depends on
the architect. They are drawn to this by divers opposing arguments,
some of which they take from Holy Scripture, and some from certain
acts performed by the chief pontiff, and by the Emperor himself;
and they endeavor to make their conviction reasonable.
[Sidenote: The analogy of the sun and moon]
=2.= For, first, they maintain that, according to Genesis, God made
two mighty luminaries, a greater and a lesser, the former to hold
supremacy by day and the latter by night [Gen., i. 15, 16]. These
they interpret allegorically to be the two rulers--spiritual and
temporal.[612] Whence they argue that as the lesser luminary, the
moon, has no light but that gained from the sun, so the temporal
ruler has no authority but that gained from the spiritual ruler.
=8.= I proceed to refute the above assumption that the two
luminaries of the world typify its two ruling powers. The whole
force of their argument lies in the interpretation; but this we can
prove indefensible in two ways. First, since these ruling powers
are, as it were, accidents necessitated by man himself, God would
seem to have used a distorted order in creating first accidents,
and then the subject necessitating them. It is absurd to speak thus
of God, but it is evident from the Word that the two lights were
created on the fourth day, and man on the sixth.
[Sidenote: An abstruse bit of mediaeval reasoning]
=9.= Secondly, the two ruling powers exist as the directors of men
toward certain ends, as will be shown further on. But had man
remained in the state of innocence in which God made him, he would
have required no such direction. These ruling powers are therefore
remedies against the infirmity of sin. Since on the fourth day man
was not only not a sinner, but was not even existent, the creation
of a remedy would have been purposeless, which is contrary to
divine goodness. Foolish indeed would be the physician who should
make ready a plaster for the abscess of a man not yet born.
Therefore it cannot be asserted that God made the two ruling powers
on the fourth day; and consequently the meaning of Moses cannot
have been what it is supposed to be.
=10.= Also, in order to be tolerant, we may refute this fallacy by
distinction. Refutation by distinction deals more gently with an
adversary, for it shows him to be not absolutely wrong, as does
refutation by destruction. I say, then, that although the moon may
have abundant light only as she receives it from the sun, it does
not follow on that account that the moon herself owes her existence
to the sun. It must be recognized that the essence of the moon, her
strength, and her function, are not one and the same thing. Neither
in her essence, her strength, nor her function taken absolutely,
does the moon owe her existence to the sun, for her movement is
impelled by her own force and her influence by her own rays.
Besides, she has a certain light of her own, as is shown in
eclipse. It is in order to fulfill her function better and more
potently that she borrows from the sun abundance of light, and
works thereby more effectively.
[Sidenote: Why the argument from the sun and moon fails]
=11.= In like manner, I say, the temporal power receives from the
spiritual neither its existence, nor its strength, which is its
authority, nor even its function, taken absolutely. But well for
her does she receive therefrom, through the light of grace which
the benediction of the chief pontiff sheds upon it in heaven and on
earth, strength to fulfill her function more perfectly. So the
argument was at fault in form, because the predicate of the
conclusion is not a term of the major premise, as is evident. The
syllogism runs thus: The moon receives light from the sun, which
is the spiritual power; the temporal ruling power is the moon;
therefore the temporal receives authority from the spiritual. They
introduce "light" as the term of the major, but "authority" as
predicate of the conclusion, which two things we have seen to be
diverse in subject and significance.
[Sidenote: Argument from the prerogative of the keys committed to
Peter]
VIII. =1.= From the same gospel they quote the saying of Christ to
Peter, "Whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in
heaven" [Matt., xvi. 19], and understand this saying to refer alike
to all the Apostles, according to the text of Matthew and John
[Matt., xviii. 18 and John, xx. 23]. They reason from this that the
successor of Peter has been granted of God power to bind and loose
all things, and then infer that he has power to loose the laws and
decrees of the Empire, and to bind the laws and decrees of the
temporal kingdom. Were this true, their inference would be correct.
=2.= But we must reply to it by making a distinction against the
major premise of the syllogism which they employ. Their syllogism
is this: Peter had power to bind and loose all things; the
successor of Peter has like power with him; therefore the successor
of Peter has power to loose and bind all things. From this they
infer that he has power to loose and bind the laws and decrees of
the Empire.
=3.= I concede the minor premise, but the major only with
distinction. Wherefore I say that "all," the symbol of the
universal which is implied in "whatsoever," is never distributed
beyond the scope of the distributed term. When I say, "All animals
run," the distribution of "all" comprehends whatever comes under
the genus "animal." But when I say, "All men run," the symbol of
the universal refers only to whatever comes under the term "man."
And when I say, "All grammarians run," the distribution is narrowed
still further.
=4.= Therefore we must always determine what it is over which the
symbol of the universal is distributed; then, from the recognized
nature and scope of the distributed term, will be easily apparent
the extent of the distribution. Now, were "whatsoever" to be
understood absolutely when it is said, "Whatsoever thou shalt
bind," he would certainly have the power they claim; nay, he would
have even greater power--he would be able to loose a wife from her
husband, and, while the man still lived, bind her to another--a
thing he can in nowise do. He would be able to absolve me, while
impenitent--a thing which God Himself cannot do.
[Sidenote: Dante's interpretation of the Scripture in question]
=5.= So it is evident that the distribution of the term under
discussion is to be taken, not absolutely, but relatively to
something else. A consideration of the concession to which the
distribution is subjoined will make manifest this related
something. Christ said to Peter, "I will give unto thee the keys of
the kingdom of heaven;" that is, I will make thee doorkeeper of the
kingdom of heaven. Then He adds, "and whatsoever," that is,
"everything which," and He means thereby, "Everything which
pertains to that office thou shalt have power to bind and loose."
And thus the symbol of the universal which is implied in
"whatsoever" is limited in its distribution to the prerogative of
the keys of the kingdom of heaven. Understood thus, the proposition
is true, but understood absolutely, it is obviously not. Therefore
I conclude that, although the successor of Peter has authority to
bind and loose in accordance with the requirements of the
prerogative granted to Peter, it does not follow, as they claim,
that he has authority to bind and loose the decrees or statutes of
empire, unless they prove that this also belongs to the office of
the keys. But further on we shall demonstrate that the contrary is
true.
XIII. =1.= Now that we have stated and rejected the errors on which
those chiefly rely who declare that the authority of the Roman
Prince is dependent on the Roman Pontiff,[613] we must return and
demonstrate the truth of that question which we propounded for
discussion at the beginning. The truth will be evident enough if it
can be shown, under the principle of inquiry agreed upon, that
imperial authority derives immediately from the summit of all
being, which is God. And this will be shown, whether we prove that
imperial authority does not derive from that of the Church (for the
dispute concerns no other authority), or whether we prove simply
that it derives immediately from God.
[Sidenote: The Church (or papacy) is not the source of imperial
authority]
=2.= That ecclesiastical authority is not the source of imperial
authority is thus verified. A thing non-existent, or devoid of
active force, cannot be the cause of active force in a thing
possessing that quality in full measure. But before the Church
existed, or while it lacked power to act, the Empire had active
force in full measure. Hence the Church is the source, neither of
acting power nor of authority in the Empire, where power to act and
authority are identical. Let A be the Church, B the Empire, and C
the power or authority of the Empire. If, A being non-existent, C
is in B, the cause of C's relation to B cannot be A, since it is
impossible that an effect should exist prior to its cause.
Moreover, if, A being inoperative, C is in B, the cause of C's
relation to B cannot be A, since it is indispensable for the
production of effect that the cause should be in operation
previously, especially the efficient cause which we are considering
here.
[Sidenote: Early Christian recognition of the authority of the
Emperor]
=3.= The major premise of this demonstration is intelligible from
its terms; the minor is confirmed by Christ and the Church. Christ
attests it, as we said before, in His birth and death. The Church
attests it in Paul's declaration to Festus in the Acts of the
Apostles: "I stand at Caesar's judgment seat, where I ought to be
judged" [Acts, xxv. 10]; and in the admonition of God's angel to
Paul a little later: "Fear not, Paul; thou must be brought before
Caesar" [Acts, xxvii. 24]; and again, still later, in Paul's words
to the Jews dwelling in Italy: "And when the Jews spake against it,
I was constrained to appeal unto Caesar; not that I had aught to
accuse my nation of," but "that I might deliver my soul from death"
[Acts, xxviii. 19]. If Caesar had not already possessed the right to
judge temporal matters, Christ would not have implied that he did,
the angel would not have uttered such words, nor would he who said,
"I desire to depart and be with Christ" [Phil., i. 23], have
appealed to an unqualified judge.
XIV. =1.= Besides, if the Church has power to confer authority on
the Roman Prince, she would have it either from God, or from
herself, or from some Emperor, or from the unanimous consent of
mankind, or, at least, from the consent of the most influential.
There is no other least crevice through which the power could have
diffused itself into the Church. But from none of these has it come
to her, and therefore the aforesaid power is not hers at all.
XVI. =1.= Although by the method of reduction to absurdity it has
been shown in the foregoing chapter that the authority of empire
has not its source in the Chief Pontiff, yet it has not been fully
proved, save by an inference, that its immediate source is God,
seeing that if the authority does not depend on the vicar of God,
we conclude that it depends on God Himself. For a perfect
demonstration of the proposition we must prove directly that the
Emperor, or Monarch, of the world has immediate relationship to the
Prince of the universe, who is God.
[Sidenote: Positive argument that the authority of the emperor is
derived directly from God]
=2.= In order to realize this, it must be understood that man alone
of all beings holds the middle place between corruptibility and
incorruptibility, and is therefore rightly compared by
philosophers to the horizon which lies between the two
hemispheres. Man may be considered with regard to either of his
essential parts, body or soul. If considered in regard to the body
alone, he is perishable; if in regard to the soul alone, he is
imperishable. So the Philosopher[614] spoke well of its
incorruptibility when he said in the second book, _On the Soul_,
"And this only can be separated as a thing eternal from that which
perishes."
=3.= If man holds a middle place between the perishable and the
imperishable, then, inasmuch as every man shares the nature of the
extremes, man must share both natures. And inasmuch as every nature
is ordained for a certain ultimate end, it follows that there
exists for man a two-fold end, in order that as he alone of all
beings partakes of the perishable and the imperishable, so he alone
of all beings should be ordained for two ultimate ends. One end is
for that in him which is perishable, the other for that which is
imperishable.
[Sidenote: Double aspect of human life]
=4.= Omniscient Providence has thus designed two ends to be
contemplated by man: first, the happiness of this life, which
consists in the activity of his natural powers, and is prefigured
by the terrestrial Paradise; and then the blessedness of life
everlasting, which consists in the enjoyment of the countenance of
God, to which man's natural powers may not obtain unless aided by
divine light, and which may be symbolized by the celestial
Paradise.[615]
=5.= To these states of blessedness, just as to diverse
conclusions, man must come by diverse means. To the former we come
by the teachings of philosophy, obeying them by acting in
conformity with the moral and intellectual virtues; to the latter,
through spiritual teachings which transcend human reason, and which
we obey by acting in conformity with the theological virtues,
faith, hope, and charity. Now the former end and means are made
known to us by human reason, which the philosophers have wholly
explained to us; and the latter by the Holy Spirit, which has
revealed to us supernatural but essential truth through the
prophets and sacred writers, through Jesus Christ, the coeternal
Son of God, and through His disciples. Nevertheless, human passion
would cast these behind, were not man, like horses astray in their
brutishness, held to the road by bit and rein.
=6.= Wherefore a twofold directive agent was necessary to man, in
accordance with the twofold end; the Supreme Pontiff to lead the
human race to life eternal by means of revelation, and the Emperor
to guide it to temporal well-being by means of philosophic
instruction. And since none or few--and these with exceeding
difficulty--could attain this port, were not the waves of seductive
desire calmed, and mankind made free to rest in the tranquillity of
peace, therefore this is the goal which he whom we call the
guardian of the earth and Roman Prince should most urgently seek;
then would it be possible for life on this mortal threshing-floor
to pass in freedom and peace. The order of the world follows the
order inherent in the revolution of the heavens. To attain this
order it is necessary that instruction productive of liberality and
peace should be applied by the guardian of the realm, in due place
and time, as dispensed by Him who is the ever-present Watcher of
the whole order of the heavens. And He alone foreordained this
order, that by it, in His providence, He might link together all
things, each in its own place.
[Sidenote: The proper functions of Pope and Emperor]
=7.= If this is so, and there is none higher than He, only God
elects and only God confirms. Whence we may further conclude that
neither those who are now, nor those who in any way whatsoever have
been, called electors[616] have the right to be so called; rather
should they be entitled heralds of Divine Providence. Whence it is
that those in whom is vested the dignity of proclamation suffer
dissension among themselves at times, when, all or part of them
being shadowed by the clouds of passion, they discern not the face
of God's dispensation.
=8.= It is established, then, that the authority of temporal
monarchy descends without mediation from the fountain of universal
authority. And this fountain, one in its purity of source, flows
into multifarious channels out of the abundance of its excellence.
[Sidenote: The ideal relation of the two powers]
=9.= I believe I have now approached sufficiently close to the goal
I had set myself, for I have taken the kernels of truth from the
husks of falsehood, in that question which asked whether the office
of monarchy was essential to the welfare of the world, and in the
next which made inquiry whether the Roman people rightfully
appropriated the empire, and in the last which sought whether the
authority of the monarch derived from God directly, or from some
other. But the truth of this final question must not be restricted
to mean that the Roman Prince shall not be subject in some degree
to the Roman Pontiff, for well-being that is mortal is ordered in a
measure after well-being that is immortal. Wherefore let Caesar
honor Peter as a first-born son should honor his father, so that,
brilliant with the light of paternal grace, he may illumine with
greater radiance the earthly sphere over which he has been set by
Him who alone is Ruler of all things spiritual and temporal.[617]
81. Petrarch's Love of the Classics
Francesco Petrarca was born at Arezzo in northern Italy in July, 1304.
His father was a Florentine notary who had been banished by the same
decree with Dante in 1302, and who finally settled at Avignon in 1313
to practice his profession in the neighborhood of the papal court.
Petrarch was destined by his father for the law and was sent to study
that subject at Montpellier and subsequently at Bologna. But from the
moment when he first got hold of the Latin classics, notably Cicero
and Vergil, he found his interest in legal subjects absolutely at an
end. He was charmed by the literary power of the ancients, as he
certainly was not by the logic and learning of the jurists, and though
his father endeavored to discourage what he regarded as a sheer waste
of time by burning the young enthusiast's precious Latin books, the
love of the classics, once aroused, was never crushed out and the
literary instinct remained dominant. The beginnings of the Renaissance
spirit, which are so discernible in Dante, become in Petrarch the full
expression of the new age. In the words of Professor Adams, "In him we
clearly find, as controlling personal traits, all those specific
features of the Renaissance which give it its distinguishing character
as an intellectual revolution, and from their strong beginning in him
they have never ceased among men. In the first place, he felt as no
other man had done since the ancient days the beauty of nature and the
pleasure of mere life, its sufficiency for itself; and he had also a
sense of ability and power, and a self-confidence which led him to
plan great things, and to hope for an immortality of fame in this
world. In the second place, he had a most keen sense of the unity of
past history, of the living bond of connection between himself and men
of like sort in the ancient world. That world was for him no dead
antiquity, but he lived and felt in it and with its poets and
thinkers, as if they were his neighbors. His love for it amounted
almost, if we may call it so, to an ecstatic enthusiasm, hardly
understood by his own time, but it kindled in many others a similar
feeling which has come down to us. The result is easily recognized in
him as a genuine culture, the first of modern men in whom this can be
found.... Finally, Petrarch first put the modern spirit into conscious
opposition to the mediaeval. The Renaissance meant rebellion and
revolution. It meant a long and bitter struggle against the whole
scholastic system, and all the follies and superstitions which
flourished under its protection. Petrarch opened the attack along the
whole line. Physicians, lawyers, astrologers, scholastic philosophers,
the universities--all were enemies of the new learning, and so his
enemies. And these attacks were not in set and formal polemics alone,
his letters and almost all his writings were filled with them. It was
the business of his life."[618]
In the latter part of his life Petrarch enjoyed the highest renown
throughout Europe. The cities of Italy, especially, vied with one
another in showering honors upon him. A decree of the Venetian senate
affirmed that no Christian poet or philosopher could be compared with
him. Arezzo, the town of his birth, awarded him a triumphal
procession. Florence bought the estates once confiscated from his
father and begged him to accept them as a meager gift to one "who for
centuries had no equal and could scarcely find one in the ages to
come." The climax came in 1341 when both the University of Paris and
the Roman Senate invited him to present himself and receive the poet's
crown, in revival of an old and all but forgotten ceremony of special
honor. The invitation from Rome was accepted and the celebration
attending the coronation was one of the most splendid of the age. In
1350 Petrarch became acquainted with Boccaccio and thenceforth there
existed the warmest friendship between these two great exponents of
Renaissance ideals and achievement. In 1369 he retired to Arqua, near
Padua, where he died in 1374.
Besides his poems Petrarch wrote a great number of letters, some in
Latin and some in Italian. Letter-writing was indeed a veritable
passion with him; and he not only wrote freely but was careful to
preserve copies of what he wrote. His prose correspondence has been
classified in four divisions. The largest one comprises three hundred
forty-seven letters, written between the years 1332 and 1362, and
given the general title of _De Rebus Familiaribus_, because in them
only topics presumably of everyday interest were discussed and without
particular attention to style. The second group, the so-called
_Epistolae Variae_, numbers about seventy. The third, the _Epistolae de
Rebus Senilibus_ ("Letters of Old Age"), includes one hundred
twenty-four letters written during the last twelve years of the poet's
life. The fourth, comprising about twenty letters, was made up of
epistles containing such sharp criticism of the papal regime at
Avignon that the author thought it best to suppress the names of those
to whom they were addressed. Their general designation, therefore, is
_Epistolae sine Titulo_. The following passages are taken from a letter
found in the _Epistolae Variae_. It was written to a literary friend,
August 18, 1360, while Petrarch was at Milan, uncertain whither the
political storms of the period would finally drive him. In the portion
which precedes that given below the writer has been commenting on
various invitations which had reached him from friends in Padua,
Florence, and even beyond the Alps. This gives him occasion to lament
the unsettled conditions of his times and to voice the longing of the
scholar for peace and quiet. Thence he proceeds to speak of matters
which reveal in an interesting way his passionate love for the
beauties of classical literature and his sympathy with its dominant
ideas. Cicero was his favorite Latin author; after him, Vergil and
Ovid. Greek literature, unfortunately, it was impossible for him to
know at first hand. In spite of a lifelong desire, and at least one
determined effort (which is referred to in the letter below), he never
acquired even a rudimentary reading knowledge of the Greek language.
At best he could only read fragments of Homer, Plato, and Aristotle in
extremely faulty Latin translations.[619]
Source--Franciscus Petrarca, _Epistolae de Rebus Familiaribus
et Variae_ ["Letters of Friendly Intercourse, and Miscellaneous
Letters"], edited by J. Fracassetti (Florence, 1869), Vol.
III., pp. 364-371. Adapted from translation in Merrick
Whitcomb, _Source Book of the Italian Renaissance_
(Philadelphia, 1903), pp. 14-21 _passim_.
[Sidenote: Petrarch's longing for peace and seclusion]
If you should ask me, in the midst of these opinions of my friends,
what I myself think of the matter, I can only reply that I long for
a place where solitude, leisure, repose, and silence reign, however
far from wealth and honors, power and favors. But I confess I know
not where to find it. My own secluded nook, where I have hoped not
only to live, but even to die, has lost all the advantages it once
possessed, even that of safety. I call to witness thirty or more
volumes, which I left there recently, thinking that no place could
be more secure, and which, a little later, having escaped from the
hands of robbers and returned, against all hope, to their master,
seem yet to blanch and tremble and show upon their foreheads the
troubled condition of the place whence they have escaped. Therefore
I have lost all hope of revisiting this charming retreat, this
longed-for country spot. Still, if the opportunity were offered me,
I should seize it with both hands and hold it fast. I do not know
whether I still possess a glimmer of hope, or am feigning it for
self-deception, and to feed my soul's desire with empty
expectation.
[Sidenote: Drawbacks of even Milan and Padua]
But I proceed, remembering that we had much conversation on this
point last year, when we lived together in the same house, in this
very city [Milan]; and that after having examined the matter most
carefully, in so far as our light permitted, we came to the
conclusion that while the affairs of Italy, and of Europe, remain
in this condition, there is no place safer and better for my needs
than Milan, nor any place that suits me so well. We made exception
only of the city of Padua, whither I went shortly after and whither
I shall soon return; not that I may obliterate or diminish--that I
should not wish--but that I may soften the regret which my absence
causes the citizens of both places. I know not whether you have
changed your opinion since that time; but for me I am convinced
that to exchange the tumult of this great city and its annoyances
for the annoyances of another city would bring me no advantage,
perhaps some inconvenience, and beyond a doubt, much fatigue. Ah,
if this tranquil solitude, which, in spite of all my seeking, I
never find, as I have told you, should ever show itself on any
side, you will hear, not that I have gone, but that I have flown,
to it....
In the succeeding paragraph of your letter you jest with much
elegance, saying that I have been wounded by Cicero without having
deserved it, on account of our too great intimacy.[620] "Because,"
you say, "those who are nearest to us most often injure us, and it
is extremely rare that an Indian does an injury to a Spaniard."
True it is. It is on this account that in reading of the wars of
the Athenians and Lacedaemonians, and in contemplating the troubles
of our own people with our neighbors, we are never struck with
astonishment; still less so at the sight of the civil wars and
domestic troubles which habit has made of so little account that
concord itself would more easily cause surprise. But when we read
that the king of Scythia has come to blows with the king of Egypt,
and that Alexander of Macedonia has penetrated to the ends of
India, we experience a sensation of astonishment which the reading
of our histories, filled as they are with the deeds of Roman
bravery in their distant expeditions, does not afford. You bring me
consolation, in representing me as having been wounded by Cicero,
to whom I am fondly attached, a thing that would probably never
happen to me, at the hands of either Hippocrates[621] or
Albumazar....[622]
[Sidenote: Common indifference to people and events near at hand]
You ask me to lend you the copy of Homer that was on sale at Padua,
if, as you suppose, I have purchased it (since, you say, I have for
a long time possessed another copy) so that our friend Leo[623] may
translate it from Greek into Latin for your benefit and for the
benefit of our other studious compatriots. I saw this book, but
neglected the opportunity of acquiring it, because it seemed
inferior to my own. It can easily be had with the aid of the person
to whom I owe my friendship with Leo; a letter from that source
would be all-powerful in the matter, and I will myself write him.
[Sidenote: A request for a copy of Homer]
[Sidenote: Fondness for Greek literature]
If by chance the book escape us, which seems to be very unlikely, I
will let you have mine. I have been always fond of this particular
translation and of Greek literature in general, and if fortune had
not frowned upon my beginnings, in the sad death of my excellent
master, I should be perhaps to-day something more than a Greek
still at his alphabet. I approve with all my heart and strength
your enterprise, for I regret and am indignant that an ancient
translation, presumably the work of Cicero, the commencement of
which Horace inserted in his _Ars Poetica_,[624] should have been
lost to the Latin world, together with many other works. It angers
me to see so much solicitude for the bad and so much neglect of the
good. But what is to be done? We must be resigned....
[Sidenote: Difficulty of translating works of literature]
[Sidenote: Longing for the translation of Homer]
I wish to take this opportunity of warning you of one thing, lest
later on I should regret having passed it over in silence. If, as
you say, the translation is to be made literally in prose, listen
for a moment to the opinion of St. Jerome as expressed in his
preface to the book, _De Temporibus_, by Eusebius of Caesarea, which
he translated into Latin.[625] Here are the very words of this
great man, well acquainted with these two languages, and indeed
with many others, and of special fame for his art of translating:
_If any one_, he says, _refuses to believe that translation lessens
the peculiar charm of the original, let him render Homer into
Latin, word for word; I will say further, let him translate it into
prose in his own tongue, and he will see a ridiculous array and the
most eloquent of poets transformed into a stammerer._ I tell you
this for your own good, while it is yet time, in order that so
important a work may not prove useless. As for me, I wish the work
to be done, whether well or ill. I am so famished for literature
that just as he who is ravenously hungry is not inclined to quarrel
with the cook's art, so I await with a lively impatience whatever
dishes are to be set before my soul. And in truth, the morsel in
which the same Leo, translating into Latin prose the beginning of
Homer, has given me a foretaste of the whole work, although it
confirms the sentiment of St. Jerome, does not displease me. It
possesses, in fact, a secret charm, as certain viands, which have
failed to take a moulded shape, although they are lacking in form,
preserve nevertheless their taste and odor. May he continue with
the aid of Heaven, and may he give us Homer, who has been lost to
us!
[Sidenote: A loan of a volume of Plato]
In asking of me the volume of Plato which I have with me, and which
escaped the fire at my transalpine country house, you give me proof
of your ardor, and I shall hold this book at your disposal,
whenever the time shall come. I wish to aid with all my power such
noble enterprises. But beware lest it should be unbecoming to unite
in one bundle these two great princes of Greece, lest the weight of
these two spirits should overwhelm mortal shoulders. Let your
messenger undertake, with God's aid, one of the two, and first him
who has written many centuries before the other. Farewell.
82. Petrarch's Letter to Posterity
The following is a letter of Petrarch addressed, by a curious whim, to
Posterity. It gives an excellent idea of the poet's opinion of himself
and reveals the sort of things that interested the typical man of
culture in the early Renaissance period. It is supposed to have been
written in the year 1370, when Petrarch had completed the sixty-sixth
year of his life. The letter betrays a longing for individual fame
which was common in classical times and during the Renaissance, but
not in the Middle Ages.
Source--Franciscus Petrarca, _Epistolae de Rebus Familiaribus
et Variae_ ["Letters of Friendly Intercourse, and Miscellaneous
Letters"], edited by J. Fracassetti (Florence, 1869), Vol. I.,
pp. 1-11. Translated in James H. Robinson and Henry W. Rolfe,
_Petrarch, the First Modern Scholar and Man of Letters_ (New
York, 1898), pp. 59-76 _passim_.
_Francis Petrarch, to Posterity, greeting_:
It is possible that some word of me may have come to you, though
even this is doubtful, since an insignificant and obscure name will
scarcely penetrate far in either time or space. If, however, you
should have heard of me, you may desire to know what manner of man
I was, or what was the outcome of my labors, especially those of
which some description or, at any rate, the bare titles may have
reached you.
[Sidenote: Petrarch's early life]
To begin, then, with myself. The utterances of men concerning me
will differ widely, since in passing judgment almost every one is
influenced not so much by truth as by preference, and good and evil
report alike know no bounds. I was, in truth, a poor mortal like
yourself, neither very exalted in my origin, nor, on the other
hand, of the most humble birth, but belonging, as Augustus Caesar
says of himself, to an ancient family. As to my disposition, I was
not naturally perverse or wanting in modesty, however the contagion
of evil associations may have corrupted me.
My youth was gone before I realized it; I was carried away by the
strength of manhood. But a riper age brought me to my senses and
taught me by experience the truth I had long before read in books,
that youth and pleasure are vanity--nay, that the Author of all
ages and times permits us miserable mortals, puffed up with
emptiness, thus to wander about, until finally, coming to a tardy
consciousness of our sins, we shall learn to know ourselves.
[Sidenote: Physical appearance]
In my prime I was blessed with a quick and active body, although
not exceptionally strong; and while I do not lay claim to
remarkable personal beauty, I was comely enough in my best days. I
was possessed of a clear complexion, between light and dark,
lively eyes, and for long years a keen vision, which, however,
deserted me, contrary to my hopes, after I reached my sixtieth
birthday, and forced me, to my great annoyance, to resort to
glasses.[626] Although I had previously enjoyed perfect health, old
age brought with it the usual array of discomforts.
[Sidenote: Preference for plain and sensible living]
My parents were honorable folk, Florentine in their origin, of
medium fortune, or, I may as well admit it, in a condition verging
upon poverty. They had been expelled from their native city,[627]
and consequently I was born in exile, at Arezzo, in the year 1304
of this latter age, which begins with Christ's birth, July the
20th, on a Monday, at dawn. I have always possessed an extreme
contempt for wealth; not that riches are not desirable in
themselves, but because I hate the anxiety and care which are
invariably associated with them. I certainly do not long to be able
to give gorgeous banquets. I have, on the contrary, led a happier
existence with plain living and ordinary fare than all the
followers of Apicius,[628] with their elaborate dainties. So-called
convivia, which are but vulgar bouts, sinning against sobriety and
good manners, have always been repugnant to me. I have ever felt
that it was irksome and profitless to invite others to such
affairs, and not less so to be bidden to them myself. On the other
hand, the pleasure of dining with one's friends is so great that
nothing has ever given me more delight than their unexpected
arrival, nor have I ever willingly sat down to table without a
companion. Nothing displeases me more than display, for not only is
it bad in itself and opposed to humility, but it is troublesome
and distracting.
[Sidenote: Intimacy with renowned men]
In my familiar associations with kings and princes, and in my
friendship with noble personages, my good fortune has been such as
to excite envy. But it is the cruel fate of those who are growing
old that they can commonly only weep for friends who have passed
away. The greatest kings of this age have loved and courted me.
They may know why; I certainly do not. With some of them I was on
such terms that they seemed in a certain sense my guests rather
than I theirs; their lofty position in no way embarrassing me, but,
on the contrary, bringing with it many advantages. I fled, however,
from many of those to whom I was greatly attached; and such was my
innate longing for liberty that I studiously avoided those whose
very name seemed incompatible with the freedom that I loved.
I possessed a well-balanced rather than a keen intellect--one prone
to all kinds of good and wholesome study, but especially inclined
to moral philosophy and the art of poetry. The latter, indeed, I
neglected as time went on, and took delight in sacred literature.
Finding in that a hidden sweetness which I had once esteemed but
lightly, I came to regard the works of the poets as only amenities.
[Sidenote: Admiration for antiquity]
Among the many subjects that interested me, I dwelt especially upon
antiquity, for our own age has always repelled me, so that, had it
not been for the love of those dear to me, I should have preferred
to have been born in any other period than our own. In order to
forget my own time, I have constantly striven to place myself in
spirit in other ages, and consequently I delighted in history. The
conflicting statements troubled me, but when in doubt I accepted
what appeared most probable, or yielded to the authority of the
writer.
[Sidenote: Attitude toward literary style]
My style, as many claimed, was clear and forcible; but to me it
seemed weak and obscure. In ordinary conversation with friends, or
with those about me, I never gave thought to my language, and I
have always wondered that Augustus Caesar should have taken such
pains in this respect. When, however, the subject itself, or the
place or the listener, seemed to demand it, I gave some attention
to style, with what success I cannot pretend to say; let them judge
in whose presence I spoke. If only I have lived well, it matters
little to me how I talked. Mere elegance of language can produce at
best but an empty renown....
FOOTNOTES:
[601] Dante represents the commentaries composing the _Convito_ as in
the nature of a banquet, the "meats" of which were to be set forth in
fourteen courses, corresponding to the fourteen _canzoni_, or lyric
poems, which were to be commented upon. As a matter of fact, for some
unknown reason, the "banquet" was broken off at the end of the third
course. "At the beginning of every well-ordered banquet" observes the
author in an earlier passage (Bk. II., Chap. 1) "the servants are wont
to take the bread given out for it, and cleanse it from every speck."
Dante has just cleansed his viands from the faults of egotism and
obscurity,--the "accidental impurities"; he now proceeds to clear them
of a less superficial difficulty, i.e., the fact that in serving them
use is made of the Italian rather than the Latin language.
[602] The date of the composition of the _De Vulgari Eloquentia_ is
unknown, but there are reasons for assigning the work to the same
period in the author's life as the _Convito_. Like the _Convito_, it
was left incomplete; four books were planned, but only the first and a
portion of the second were written. In it an effort was made to
establish the dominance of a perfect and imperial Italian language
over all the dialects. The work itself was written in Latin, probably
to command the attention of scholars whom Dante hoped to convert to
the use of the vernacular.
[603] The author conceives of the _canzoni_ as masters and the
commentaries as servants.
[604] That is, any poetical composition.
[605] Some students of Dante hold that this phrase about Homer should
be rendered "does not admit of being turned"; but others take it in
the absolute sense and base on it an argument against Dante's
knowledge of Greek literature.
[606] The Book of Psalms.
[607] The _canzoni_ were in Italian and a Latin commentary would have
been useless to scholars of other nations, because they could not have
understood the _canzoni_ to which it referred.
[608] The Provencal language--the peculiar speech of southeastern
France, whence comes the name Languedoc. _Oc_ is the affirmative
particle "yes."
[609] _Si_ is the Italian affirmative particle. In the _Inferno_ Dante
refers to Italy as "that lovely country where the _si_ is sounded"
(XXX., 80).
[610] That is, prose shows the true beauty of a language more
effectively than poetry, in which the attention is distracted by the
ornaments of verse.
[611] The author refers to Cicero's philosophical treatise _De Finibus
Bonorum et Malorum_.
[612] For example, Pope Innocent IV. (1243-1254) declared: "Two
lights, the sun and the moon, illumine the globe; two powers, the
papal and the royal, govern it; but as the moon receives her light
from the more brilliant star, so kings reign by the chief of the
Church, who comes from God."
[613] The arguments disposed of by the author, in addition to those
treated in the passages here presented, are: the precedence of Levi
over Judah (Gen., xxix. 34, 35), the election and deposition of Saul
by Samuel (1 Sam., x. 1; xv. 23; xv. 28), the oblation of the Magi
(Matt., ii. 11), the two swords referred to by Peter (Luke, xxii. 38),
the donation of Constantine, the summoning of Charlemagne by Pope
Hadrian, and finally the argument from pure reason.
[614] This was the common mediaeval designation of Aristotle.
[615] For Dante's conception of the terrestrial and the celestial
paradise see the _Paradiso_ in the _Divina Commedia_.
[616] These were the lay and ecclesiastical princes in whom was vested
the right of choosing the Emperor. The electoral college was first
clearly defined in the Golden Bull issued by Charles IV. in 1356 [see
p. 409]. Its composition in Dante's time is uncertain.
[617] Dante's ideal solution was the harmonious rule of the two powers
by the acknowledgment of filial relationship between pope and emperor,
on the basis of a recognition of the different and essentially
irreconcilable character of their functions.
[618] George B. Adams, _Mediaeval Civilization_ (New York, 1904), pp.
375-377.
[619] "There was no apparatus for the study of Greek at that time.
Oral instruction from Greek or Byzantine scholars was the only
possible means of access to the great writers of the past. Such
instruction was difficult to secure, as Petrarch's efforts and failure
prove."--Robinson and Rolfe, _Petrarch_, p. 237.
[620] This is a humorous allusion to the fact that Petrarch had
recently received an injury from the fall of a heavy volume of
Cicero's _Letters_.
[621] A renowned Greek physician of the fifth century B.C.
[622] A famous Arabian astronomer of the ninth century A.D.
[623] Leo Pilatus, a translator.
[624] Quintus Horatius Flaccus (65-8 B.C.), one of the literary lights
of the Augustan Age, was a younger contemporary of Cicero. His _Ars
Poetica_ was a didactic poem setting forth the correct principles of
poetry as an art.
[625] Eusebius, bishop of Caesarea in Palestine, is noted chiefly as
the author of an Ecclesiastical History which is in many ways our most
important source of information on the early Christian Church. He
lived about 250-339. St. Jerome was a great Church father of the later
fourth century. His name is most commonly associated with the
translation of the Bible from the original Hebrew and Greek into the
Latin language. The resulting form of the Scriptures was the _Editio
Vulgata_ (the Edition Commonly Received), whence our English term
"Vulgate."
[626] Eyeglasses were but beginning to come into use in Petrarch's
day.
[627] Petrarch's father and Dante were banished from Florence upon the
same day, January 27, 1302 [see p. 446].
[628] Marcus Gavius Apicius was a celebrated epicure of the time of
Augustus and Tiberius. He was the author of a famous cook-book
intended for the gratification of high-livers. Though worth a fortune,
he was haunted by a fear of starving to death and eventually poisoned
himself to escape such a fate. There was another Apicius in the third
century who compiled a well-known collection of recipes for cooking,
in ten books, entitled _De Re Coquinaria_. It is not quite clear which
Apicius Petrarch had in mind.