French. But if kind fate decrees that Monseigneur d’Angoulême[111] shall
succeed to the crown, as is hoped, I think that just as the glory of
arms flourishes and shines in France, so too ought that of letters to
flourish in highest state; for it is not long since I, being at the
court, saw this prince, and it seemed to me that besides the grace of
his person and the beauty of his face, he had in his aspect such
loftiness, joined however with a certain gracious humanity, that the
realm of France must always seem small for him. I heard afterwards from
many gentlemen, both French and Italian, of his very noble manner of
life, of his loftiness of mind, of his valour and liberality. And among
other things I was told that he loved and esteemed letters especially
and held all men of letters in greatest honour; and he condemned the
French themselves for being so hostile to this profession, especially as
they have within their borders such a noble school as that of Paris,
frequented by all the world.”[112]
Then the Count said:
“It is a great marvel that in such tender youth, solely by natural
instinct and against the usage of his country, he has of himself chosen
so worthy a path. And as subjects always copy the customs of their
superiours, it may be that, as you say, the French will yet come to
esteem letters at their true worth: whereto they may easily be
persuaded, if they will but listen to reason; since nothing is by nature
more desirable for men, or more proper to them, than knowledge, which it
is great folly to say or believe is not always a good thing.
43.—“And if I were speaking with them, or with others who had an opinion
contrary to mine, I should strive to show them how useful and necessary
letters are to our life and dignity, having indeed been granted by God
to men as a crowning gift. Nor should I lack instances of many excellent
commanders of antiquity, who all added the ornament of letters to the
valour of their arms.
“Thus you know Alexander held Homer in such veneration that he always
kept the Iliad by his bedside; and he devoted the greatest attention not
only to these studies but to philosophical speculation under Aristotle’s
guidance. Alcibiades enlarged his natural aptitudes and made them
greater by means of letters and the teachings of Socrates. The care that
Cæsar gave to study is also attested by the surviving works that he
divinely wrote. It is said that Scipio Africanus always kept in his hand
the works of Xenophon, wherein the perfect king is portrayed under the
name of Cyrus. I could tell you of Lucullus, Sulla, Pompey, Brutus,[113]
and many other Romans and Greeks; but I will merely remind you that
Hannibal, the illustrious commander,—although fierce by nature and a
stranger to all humanity, faithless and a despiser of both men and
gods,—yet had knowledge of letters and was conversant with the Greek
language; and if I mistake not, I once read that he even left a book
composed by him in Greek.
“However it is superfluous to tell you this, for I well know that you
all see how wrong the French are in thinking that letters are injurious
to arms. You know that glory is the true stimulus to great and hazardous
deeds of war, and whoso is moved thereto by gain or other motive,
besides doing nothing good, deserves not to be called a gentleman, but a
base trafficker. And true glory is that which is preserved in the sacred
treasure-house of letters, as everyone may understand except those
unfortunates who have never enjoyed them.
“What soul is there so abject, timid and humble, that when he reads of
the deeds of Cæsar, Alexander, Scipio, Hannibal, and many others, is not
inflamed by an ardent desire to be like them, and does not make small
account of this frail two days’ life, in order to win the almost eternal
life of fame, which in spite of death makes him live in far greater
glory than before? But he who does not feel the delight of letters,
cannot either know how great is the glory they so long preserve, and
measures it by the life of one man or two, because his memory runs no
further. Hence he cannot esteem this short-lived glory so much as he
would that almost eternal glory if knowledge of it were unhappily not
denied him, and as he does not esteem it so much, we may reasonably
believe that he will not run such danger to pursue it as one who knew it
would.
“I should be far from willing to have an antagonist cite instances to
the contrary in refutation of my view, and urge upon me that with all
their knowledge of letters the Italians have for some time since shown
little martial valour,—which is alas only too true.[114] But it very
certainly might be said that the fault of a few has brought not only
grievous harm but eternal obloquy upon all the rest; and from them was
derived the true cause of our ruin and of the decadence if not the death
of valour in our souls: yet it would be far more shameful in us to
publish it, than for the French to be ignorant of letters. Therefore it
is better to pass over in silence that which cannot be recalled without
pain: and avoiding this subject (upon which I entered against my will)
to return to our Courtier.
44.—“I would have him more than passably accomplished in letters, at
least in those studies that are called the humanities, and conversant
not only with the Latin language but with the Greek, for the sake of the
many different things that have been admirably written therein.[115] Let
him be well versed in the poets, and not less in the orators and
historians, and also proficient in writing verse and prose, especially
in this vulgar tongue of ours;[116] for besides the enjoyment he will
find in it, he will by this means never lack agreeable entertainment
with ladies,[117] who are usually fond of such things. And if other
occupations or want of study prevent his reaching such perfection as to
render his writings worthy of great praise, let him be careful to
suppress them so that others may not laugh at him, and let him show them
only to a friend whom he can trust: because they will at least be of
this service to him, that the exercise will enable him to judge the work
of others. For it very rarely happens that a man who is not accustomed
to write, however learned he may be, can ever quite appreciate the toil
and industry of writers, or taste the sweetness and excellence of style,
and those latent niceties that are often found in the ancients.
“Moreover these studies will also make him fluent, and as Aristippus
said to the tyrant, confident and assured in speaking with
everyone.[118] Hence I would have our Courtier keep one precept fixed in
mind; which is that in this and everything else he should be always on
his guard, and diffident rather than forward, and that he should keep
from falsely persuading himself that he knows that which he does not
know. For by nature we all are fonder of praise than we ought to be, and
our ears love the melody of words that praise us more than any other
sweet song or sound; and thus, like sirens’ voices, they are often the
cause of shipwreck to him who does not close his ears to such deceptive
harmony. Among the ancient sages this danger was recognized, and books
were written showing in what way the true friend may be distinguished
from the flatterer.[119] But what does this avail, if there be many, nay
a host, of those who clearly perceive that they are flattered, yet love
him who flatters them, and hold him in hatred who tells them the truth?
And often when they find him who praises them too sparing in his words,
they even help him and say such things of themselves, that the flatterer
is put to shame, most impudent though he be.
“Let us leave these blind ones to their errour, and have our Courtier of
such good judgment that he will not take black for white, or have more
self-confidence than he clearly knows to be well founded; and especially
in those peculiarities which (if you remember) messer Cesare in his game
said we had often used as an instrument to bring men’s folly to light.
On the contrary, even if he well knows the praises bestowed upon him to
be true, let him not err by accepting them too openly or confirming them
without some protest; but rather let him as it were disclaim them
modestly, always showing and really esteeming arms as his chief
profession, and all other good accomplishments as an ornament thereto.
And particularly among soldiers let him not act like those who insist on
seeming soldiers in learning, and learned men among soldiers. In this
way, for the reasons we have alleged, he will avoid affectation, and
even the middling things that he does, shall seem very great.”
45.—Messer Pietro Bembo here replied:
“Count, I do not see why you insist that this Courtier, being lettered
and endowed with so many other admirable accomplishments, should hold
everything as an ornament of arms, and not arms and the rest as an
ornament of letters; which without other accompaniment are as superiour
in dignity to arms, as the mind is to the body, for the practice of them
properly pertains to the mind, as that of arms does to the body.”
Then the Count replied:
“Nay, the practice of arms pertains to both mind and body. But I would
not have you judge in such a cause, messer Pietro, for you would be too
much suspected of bias by one of the two sides: and as the controversy
has already been long waged by very wise men, there is no need to renew
it; but I regard it as settled in favour of arms, and would have our
Courtier so regard it too, since I may form him as I wish. And if you
are of contrary mind, wait till you hear of a contest wherein he who
defends the cause of arms is allowed to use arms, just as those who
defend letters make use of letters in their defence; for if everyone
avails himself of his proper weapons, you shall see that men of letters
will be worsted.”
“Ah,” said messer Pietro, “a while ago you blamed the French for prizing
letters little, and told what glorious lustre is shed on man by letters
and how they make him immortal; and now it seems you have changed your
mind. Do you not remember that
Before the famous tomb of brave Achilles
Thus spake the mighty Alexander, sighing:
‘O happy youth, who found so clear a trumpet,
And lofty bard to make thy deeds undying!’[120]
And if Alexander envied Achilles not for his deeds, but for the fortune
that had granted him the happiness of having his exploits celebrated by
Homer, we may conclude that Alexander esteemed Homer’s poems above
Achilles’s arms. For what other judge do you wait then, or for what
other sentence upon the dignity of arms and letters, than that
pronounced by one of the greatest commanders that have ever been?”
46.—Then the Count replied:
“I blame the French for thinking that letters are a hindrance to the
profession of arms, and I hold that learning is more proper to no one
than to a warrior; and in our Courtier I would have these two
accomplishments joined and each aided by the other, as is most proper:
nor do I think I have changed my mind in this. But as I said, I do not
wish to discuss which of the two is more worthy of praise. It is enough
that men of letters almost never select for praise any but great men and
glorious deeds, which in themselves merit praise for the mere essential
quality from which they spring; besides this they are very noble
material for writers: which is a great ornament, and in part the cause
of perpetuating writings, which perhaps would not be so much read and
appreciated if they lacked their noble theme, but vain and of little
moment.
“And if Alexander was envious that Achilles should be praised by Homer,
it does not therefore follow that he esteemed letters above arms;
wherein if he had felt himself as far behind Achilles as he deemed all
those who wrote of him were behind Homer, I am sure he would far rather
have desired fine acts on his part than fine speeches on the part of
others. Hence I believe that saying of his to have been a tacit eulogy
of himself, and that he was expressing a desire for what he thought he
did not possess (that is, the supreme excellence of a writer), and not
for what he believed he already had attained (that is, prowess in arms,
wherein he did not deem Achilles at all his superior). Thus he called
Achilles happy, as if hinting that although his own fame had hitherto
not been so celebrated in the world as Achilles’s, which was made bright
and illustrious by that poem so divine,—it was not because his valour
and merits were less or deserving of less praise, but because fortune
bestowed upon Achilles that miracle of nature as a glorious trumpet for
his achievements. Perhaps also he wished to incite some noble genius to
write about him, by showing that this must be as pleasing to him as were
his love and veneration for the sacred monuments of letters: whereof we
have spoken long enough for the present.”
“Nay, too long,” replied my lord Ludovico Pio; “for I believe that in
the whole world it would be impossible to find a receptacle large enough
to hold all the things you would have in our Courtier.”
Then the Count said:
“Wait a little, for there are many more that he must have.”
“In that case,” replied Pietro da Napoli, “Grasso de’ Medici would have
a great advantage over messer Pietro Bembo.”[121]
47.—Here everyone laughed, and the Count began anew and said:
“My lords, you must know that I am not content with the Courtier unless
he be also a musician and unless, besides understanding and being able
to read notes, he can play upon divers instruments. For if we consider
rightly, there is to be found no rest from toil or medicine for the
troubled spirit more becoming and praiseworthy in time of leisure, than
this; and especially in courts, where besides the relief from tedium
that music affords us all, many things are done to please the ladies,
whose tender and gentle spirit is easily penetrated by harmony and
filled with sweetness. Thus it is no marvel that in both ancient and
modern times they have always been inclined to favour musicians, and
have found refreshing spiritual food in music.”
Then my lord Gaspar said:
“I admit that music as well as many other vanities may be proper to
women and perhaps to some that have the semblance of men, but not to
those who really are men; for these ought not to enervate their mind
with delights and thus induce therein a fear of death.”
“Say not so,” replied the Count; “for I shall enter upon a vast sea in
praise of music. And I shall call to mind how it was always celebrated
and held sacred among the ancients, and how very sage philosophers were
of opinion that the world is composed of music, that the heavens make
harmony in their moving, and that the soul, being ordered in like
fashion, awakes and as it were revives its powers through music.
“Thus it is written that Alexander was sometimes excited by it so
passionately, that he was forced almost against his will to leave the
banquet table and rush to arms; and when the musician changed the temper
of the tune, he grew calm again, lay aside his arms, and returned to the
banquet table. Moreover I will tell you that grave Socrates learned to
play the cithern[122] at a very advanced age. And I remember having once
heard that Plato and Aristotle would have the man of culture a musician
also; and they show by a host of arguments that the power of music over
us is very great, and (for many reasons which would be too long to tell
now) that it must needs be taught from childhood, not so much for the
mere melody that we hear, but for the power it has to induce in us a
fresh and good habit of mind and an habitual tendency to virtue, which
renders the soul more capable of happiness, just as bodily exercise
renders the body more robust;[123] and that music is not only no
hindrance in the pursuits of peace and war, but is very helpful therein.
“Again, Lycurgus[124] approved of music in his harsh laws. And we read
that in their battles the very warlike Lacedemonians and Cretans used
the cithern and other dulcet instruments; that many very excellent
commanders of antiquity, like Epaminondas,[125] practised music; and
that those who were ignorant of it, like Themistocles,[126] were far
less esteemed. Have you not read that music was among the first
accomplishments which the worthy old Chiron taught Achilles in tender
youth,[127] whom he reared from the age of nurse and cradle? and that
the sage preceptor insisted that the hands which were to shed so much
Trojan blood, should be often busied with the cithern? Where is the
soldier who would be ashamed to imitate Achilles,—to say nothing of many
other famous commanders whom I could cite?
“Therefore seek not to deprive our Courtier of music, which not only
soothes men’s minds, but often tames wild beasts;[128] and he who enjoys
it not, may be sure that his spirit is ill attuned. See what power it
has, to make (as once it did) a fish submit to be ridden by a man upon
the boisterous sea.[129] We find it used in holy temples to render
praise and thanks to God; and we must believe that it is pleasing to Him
and that He has given it to us as most sweet alleviation for our
fatigues and troubles. Wherefore rough toilers of the field under a
burning sun often cheat their weariness with crude and rustic song. With
music the rude peasant lass, who is up before the day to spin or weave,
wards off her drowsiness and makes her toil a pleasure; music is very
cheering pastime for poor sailors after rain, wind and tempest: a solace
to tired pilgrims on their long and weary journeys, and often to
sorrowing captives in their chains and fetters. Thus, as stronger proof
that melody even if rude is very great relief from every human toil and
care, nature seems to have taught it to the nurse as chief remedy for
the continual wailing of frail children, who by the sound of her voice
are brought restful and placid sleep, forgetful of the tears so proper
to them and given us in that age by nature as a presage of our after
life.”
48.—As the Count now remained silent for a little, the Magnifico
Giuliano said:
“I do not at all agree with my lord Gaspar. Nay I think, for the reasons
you give and for many others, that music is not only an ornament but a
necessity to the Courtier. Yet I would have you declare in what way this
and the other accomplishments that you prescribe for him, are to be
practised, and at what time and in what manner.[130] For many things
that are praiseworthy in themselves often become very inappropriate when
practised out of season, and on the other hand, some that seem of little
moment are highly esteemed when made use of opportunely.”
49.—Then the Count said:
“Before we enter upon that subject, I wish to discuss another matter,
which I deem of great importance and therefore think our Courtier ought
by no means to omit: and this is to know how to draw and to have
acquaintance with the very art of painting.
“And do not marvel that I desire this art, which to-day may seem to
savour of the artisan and little to befit a gentleman; for I remember
having read that the ancients, especially throughout Greece, had their
boys of gentle birth study painting in school as an honourable and
necessary thing, and it was admitted to the first rank of liberal arts;
while by public edict they forbade that it be taught to slaves. Among
the Romans too, it was held in highest honour, and the very noble family
of the Fabii took their name from it; for the first Fabius was given the
name _Pictor_, because,—being indeed a most excellent painter, and so
devoted to painting that when he painted the walls of the temple of
Health,—he inscribed his own name thereon;[131] for although he was born
of a family thus renowned and honoured with so many consular titles,
triumphs and other dignities, and although he was a man of letters and
learned in the law, and numbered among the orators,—yet he thought to
add splendour and ornament to his fame by leaving a memorial that he had
been a painter. Nor is there lack of many other men of illustrious
family, celebrated in this art; which besides being very noble and
worthy in itself, is of great utility, and especially in war for drawing
places, sites, rivers, bridges, rocks, fortresses, and the like; since
however well we may keep them in memory (which is very difficult), we
cannot show them to others.
“And truly he who does not esteem this art, seems to me very
unreasonable; for this universal fabric that we see,—with the vast
heaven so richly adorned with shining stars, and in the midst the earth
girdled by the seas, varied with mountains, valleys and rivers, and
bedecked with so many divers trees, beautiful flowers and grasses,—may
be said to be a great and noble picture, composed by the hand of nature
and of God; and whoever is able to imitate it, seems to me deserving of
great praise: nor can it be imitated without knowledge of many things,
as he knows well who tries. Hence the ancients greatly prized both the
art and the artist, which thus attained the summit of highest
excellence; very sure proof of which may be found in the antique marble
and bronze statues that yet are seen.[132] And although painting is
different from sculpture, both the one and the other spring from the
same source, which is good design. Therefore, as the statues are divine,
so we may believe the pictures were also; the more indeed because they
are susceptible of greater skill.”
50.—Then my lady Emilia turned to Giancristoforo Romano, who was sitting
with the others there, and said:
“What think you of this opinion? Do you admit that painting is
susceptible of greater skill than sculpture?”[133]
Giancristoforo replied:
“I, my Lady, think that sculpture needs more pains, more skill, and is
of greater dignity than painting.”
The Count rejoined:
“In that statues are more enduring, perhaps we might say they are of
greater dignity; for being made as memorials, they fulfil better than
painting the purpose for which they are made. But besides serving as
memorials, both painting and sculpture serve also to beautify, and in
this respect painting is much superior; for if less diuturnal (so to
speak) than sculpture, yet it is of very long life, and is far more
charming so long as it endures.”
Then Giancristoforo replied:
“I really think that you are speaking against your convictions and that
you are doing so solely for the sake of your friend Raphael; and perhaps
too the excellence you find in his painting seems to you so consummate
that sculpture cannot rival it: but consider that this is praise of an
artist and not of his art.”
[Illustration:
MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI
1475-1564
]
Reduced from a photograph, specially made by Soame, of an anonymous and
hitherto unpublished bronze head at Oxford. From a death-mask,
Michelangelo’s pupil Daniele Ricciarelli da Volterra (1500-1566)
prepared a mould, of which this and the similar “Piot” head in the
Louvre are believed to be unchased castings. See C. Drury E.
Fortnum’s article “On the Bronze Portrait Busts of Michelangelo,”
etc., in the Archæological Journal.
Then he continued:
“It seems clear to me that both the one and the other are artificial
imitations of nature; but I do not see how you can say that truth, such
as nature makes it, is not better imitated in a marble or bronze
statue,—wherein the members are round, formed and measured, as nature
makes them,—than in a painting, where we see nothing but the surface and
those colours that cheat the eyes; nor will you tell me, surely, that
being is not nearer truth than seeming. Moreover I think sculpture is
more difficult, because if a slip is made, it cannot be corrected (since
marble cannot be patched again), but another statue must be made anew;
which does not happen with painting, for one may change a thousand
times, and add and take away, improving always.”
51.—The Count said, laughing:
“I am not speaking for Raphael’s sake; nor ought you to repute me so
ignorant as not to know the excellence of Michelangelo in sculpture,
your own, and others’. But I am speaking of the art, and not of the
artists.