It is remarkable that the country which has long lost its political
independence may be considered as the true parent of modern history. The
greater part of their historians have abstained from the applause of
their contemporaries, while they have not the less elaborately composed
their posthumous folios, consecrated solely to truth and posterity! The
true principles of national glory are opened by the grandeur of the
minds of these assertors of political freedom. It was their indignant
spirit, seeking to console its injuries by confiding them to their
secret manuscripts, which raised up this singular phenomenon in the
literary world.
Of the various causes which produced such a lofty race of patriots, one
is prominent. The proud recollections of their Roman fathers often
troubled the dreams of the sons. The petty rival republics, and the
petty despotic principalities, which had started up from some great
families, who at first came forward as the protectors of the people from
their exterior enemies or their interior factions, at length settled
into a corruption of power; a power which had been conferred on them to
preserve liberty itself! These factions often shook, by their
jealousies, their fears, and their hatreds, that divided land, which
groaned whenever they witnessed the "Ultramontanes" descending from
their Alps and their Apennines. Petrarch, in a noble invective, warmed
by Livy and ancient Rome, impatiently beheld the French and the Germans
passing the mounts. "Enemies," he cries, "so often conquered prepare to
strike with swords which formerly served us to raise our trophies: shall
the mistress of the world bear chains forged by hands which she has so
often bound to their backs?" Machiavel, in his "Exhortations to Free
Italy from the Barbarians," rouses his country against their changeable
masters, the Germans, the French, and the Spaniards; closing with the
verse of Petrarch, that short shall be the battle for which virtue arms
to show the world--
che l' antico valore
Ne gl' Italici cuor non e ancor morto.
Nor has this sublime patriotism declined even in more recent times; I
cannot resist from preserving in this place a sonnet by Filicaja, which
I could never read without participating in the agitation of the writer
for the ancient glory of his degenerated country! The energetic
personification of the close perhaps surpasses even his more celebrated
sonnet, preserved in Lord Byron's notes to the fourth canto of "Childe
Harold."
Dov' e ITALIA, il tuo braccio? e a che ti servi
Tu dell' altrui? non e s' io scorgo il vero,
Di chi t' offende il defensor men fero:
Ambe nemici sono, ambo fur servi.
Cosi dunque l' onor, cosi conservi
Gli avanzi tu del glorioso Impero?
Cosi al valor, cosi al valor primiero
Che a te fede giuro, la fede osservi?
Or va; repudia il valor prisco, e sposa
L' ozio, e fra il sangue, i gemiti, e le strida
Nel periglio maggior dormi e riposa!
Dormi, Adultera vil! fin che omicida
Spada ultrice ti svegli, e sonnacchiosa,
E nuda in braccio al tuo fedel t'uccida!
Oh, Italy! where is thine arm? What purpose serves
So to be helped by others? Deem I right,
Among offenders thy defender stands?
Both _are_ thy enemies--both _were_ thy servants!
Thus dost thou honour--thus dost thou preserve
The mighty boundaries of the glorious empire?
And thus to Valour, to thy pristine Valour
That swore its faith to thee, thy faith thou keep'st?
Go! and divorce thyself from thy old Valiance,
And marry Idleness: and midst the blood,
The heavy groans and cries of agony,
In thy last danger sleep, and seek repose!
Sleep, vile Adulteress! the homicidal sword
Vengeful shall waken thee! and lull'd to slumber,
While naked in thy minion's arms, shall strike!
Among the domestic contests of Italy the true principles of political
freedom were developed; and in that country we may find the origin of
that PHILOSOPHICAL HISTORY which includes so many important views and so
many new results unknown to the ancients.
Machiavel seems to have been the first writer who discovered the secret
of what may be called _comparative history_. He it was who first sought
in ancient history for the materials which were to illustrate the events
of his own times, by fixing on analogous facts, similar personages, and
parallel periods. This was enlarging the field of history, and opening a
new combination for philosophical speculation. His profound genius
advanced still further; he not only explained modern by ancient history,
but he deduced those results or principles founded on this new sort of
evidence which guided him in forming his opinions. History had hitherto
been, if we except Tacitus, but a story well told; and by writers of
limited capacity, the detail and number of facts had too often been
considered as the only valuable portion of history. An erudition of
facts is not the philosophy of history; an historian unskilful in the
art of applying his facts amasses impure ore, which he cannot strike
into coin. The chancellor D'Aguesseau, in his instructions to his son on
the study of history, has admirably touched on this distinction. "Minds
which are purely historical mistake a fact for an argument; they are so
accustomed to satisfy themselves by repeating a great number of facts
and enriching their memory, that they become incapable of reasoning on
principles. It often happens that the result of their knowledge breeds
confusion and universal indecision; for their facts, often
contradictory, only raise up doubts. The superfluous and the frivolous
occupy the place of what is essential and solid, or at least so overload
and darken it that we must sail with them in a sea of trifles to get to
firm land. Those who only value the philosophical part of history fall
into an opposite extreme; they judge of what has been done by that which
should be done; while the others always decide on what should be done by
that which has been: the first are the dupes of their reasoning, the
second of the facts which they mistake for reasoning. We should not
separate two things which ought always to go in concert, and mutually
lend an aid, _reason and example_! Avoid equally the contempt of some
philosophers for the science of facts, and the distaste or the
incapacity which those who confine themselves to facts often contract
for whatever depends on pure reasoning. True and solid philosophy should
direct us in the study of history, and the study of history should give
perfection to philosophy." Such was the enlightened opinion, as far back
as at the beginning of the seventeenth century, of the studious
chancellor of France, before the more recent designation of
_Philosophical History_ was so generally received, and so familiar on
our title-pages.
From the moment that the Florentine secretary conceived the idea that
the history of the Roman people, opening such varied spectacles of human
nature, served as a point of comparison to which he might perpetually
recur to try the analogous facts of other nations and the events passing
under his own eye, a new light broke out and ran through the vast
extents of history. The maturity of experience seemed to have been
obtained by the historian in his solitary meditation. Livy in the
grandeur of Rome, and Tacitus in its fated decline, exhibited for
Machiavel a moving picture of his own republics--the march of destiny in
all human governments! The text of Livy and Tacitus revealed to him many
an imperfect secret--the fuller truth he drew from the depth of his own
observations on his own times. In Machiavel's "Discourses on Livy" we
may discover the foundations of our _Philosophical History_.
The example of Machiavel, like that of all creative genius, influenced
the character of his age, and his history of Florence produced an
emulative spirit among a new dynasty of historians.
The Italian historians have proved themselves to be an extraordinary
race, for they devoted their days to the composition of historical
works which they were certain could not see the light during their
lives! They nobly determined that their works should be posthumous,
rather than be compelled to mutilate them for the press. These
historians were rather the saints than the martyrs of history; they did
not always personally suffer for truth, but during their protracted
labour they sustained their spirit by anticipating their glorified
after-state.
Among these Italian historians must be placed the illustrious
Guicciardini, the friend of Machiavel. No perfect edition of this
historian existed till recent times. The history itself was posthumous;
nor did his nephew venture to publish it till twenty years after the
historian's death. He only gave the first sixteen books, and these
castrated. The obnoxious passages consisted of some statements relating
to the papal court, then so important in the affairs of Europe; some
account of the origin and progress of the papal power; some eloquent
pictures of the abuses and disorders of that corrupt court; and some
free caricatures on the government of Florence. The precious fragments
were fortunately preserved in manuscript, and the Protestants procured
transcripts which they published separately, but which were long very
rare.[112] All the Italian editions continued to be reprinted in the
same truncated condition, and appear only to have been reinstated in the
immortal history so late as in 1775! Thus, it required two centuries
before an editor could venture to give the world the pure and complete
text of the manuscript of the lieutenant-general of the papal army, who
had been so close and so indignant an observer of the Roman cabinet.
Adriani, whom his son entitles _gentiluomo Fiorentino_, the writer of
the pleasing dissertation "on the Ancient Painters noticed by Pliny,"
prefixed to his friend Vasari's biographies, wrote as a continuation of
Guicciardini, a history of his own times in twenty-two books, of which
Denina gives the highest character for its moderate spirit, and from
which De Thou has largely drawn, and commends for its authenticity. Our
author, however, did not venture to publish his history during his
lifetime: it was after his death that his son became the editor.
Nardi, of a noble family and high in office, famed for a translation of
Livy which rivals its original in the pleasure it affords, in his
retirement from public affairs wrote a history of Florence, which closes
with the loss of the liberty of his country in 1531. It was not
published till fifty years after his death; even then the editors
suppressed many passages which are found in manuscript in the libraries
of Florence and Venice, with other historical documents of this noble
and patriotic historian.
About the same time the senator Philip Nerli was writing his
"_Commentarj de' fatti civili_," which had occurred in Florence. He gave
them with his dying hand to his nephew, who presented the MSS. to the
Grand Duke; yet, although this work is rather an apology than a
crimination of the Medici family for their ambitious views and their
overgrown power, probably some state-reason interfered to prevent the
publication, which did not take place till 150 years after the death of
the historian!
Bernardo Segni composed a history of Florence still more valuable, which
shared the same fate as that of Nerli. It was only after his death that
his relatives accidentally discovered this history of Florence, which
the author had carefully concealed during his lifetime. He had abstained
from communicating to any one the existence of such a work while he
lived, that he might not be induced to check the freedom of his pen, nor
compromise the cause and the interests of truth. His heirs presented it
to one of the Medici family, who threw it aside. Another copy had been
more carefully preserved, from which it was printed in 1713, about 150
years after it had been written. It appears to have excited great
curiosity, for Lenglet du Fresnoy observes that the scarcity of this
history is owing to the circumstance "of the Grand Duke having bought up
the copies." Du Fresnoy, indeed, has noticed more than once this sort of
address of the Grand Duke; for he observes on the Florentine history of
Bruto that the work was not common, the Grand Duke having bought up the
copies to suppress them. The author was even obliged to fly from Italy
for having delivered his opinions too freely on the house of the Medici.
This honest historian thus expresses himself at the close of his
work:--"My design has but one end--that our posterity may learn by these
notices the root and the causes of so many troubles which we have
suffered, while they expose the malignity of those men who have raised
them up or prolonged them, as well as the goodness of those who did all
which they could to turn them away."
It was the same motive, the fear of offending the great personages or
their families, of whom these historians had so freely written, which
deterred Benedetto Varchi from publishing his well-known "Storie
Fiorentine," which was not given to the world till 1721, a period which
appears to have roused the slumbers of the literary men of Italy to
recur to their native historians. Varchi, who wrote with so much zeal
the history of his fatherland, is noticed by Nardi as one who never took
an active part in the events he records; never having combined with any
party, and living merely as a spectator. This historian closes the
narrative of a horrid crime of Peter Lewis Farnese with this admirable
reflection: "I know well this story, with many others which I have
freely exposed, may hereafter prevent the reading of my history; but
also I know, that besides what Tacitus has said on this subject, the
great duty of an historian is not to be more careful of the reputation
of persons than is suitable with truth, which is to be preferred to all
things, however detrimental it may be to the writer."[113]
Such was that free manner of thinking and of writing which prevailed in
these Italian historians, who, often living in the midst of the ruins of
popular freedom, poured forth their injured feelings in their secret
pages; without the hope, and perhaps without the wish, of seeing them
published in their lifetime: a glorious example of self-denial and lofty
patriotism!
Had it been inquired of these writers why they did not publish their
histories, they might have answered, in nearly the words of an ancient
sage, "Because I am not permitted to write as I would; and I would not
write as I am permitted." We cannot imagine that these great men were in
the least insensible to the applause they denied themselves; they were
not of tempers to be turned aside; and it was the highest motive which
can inspire an historian, a stern devotion to truth, which reduced them
to silence, but not to inactivity! These Florentine and Venetian
historians, ardent with truth, and profound in political sagacity, were
writing these legacies of history solely for their countrymen, hopeless
of their gratitude! If a Frenchman[114] wrote the English history, that
labour was the aliment of his own glory; if Hume and Robertson devoted
their pens to history, the motive of the task was less glorious than
their work; but here we discover a race of historians, whose patriotism
alone instigated their secret labour, and who substituted for fame and
fortune that mightier spirit, which, amidst their conflicting passions,
has developed the truest principles, and even the errors, of Political
Freedom!
None of these historians, we have seen, published their works in their
lifetime. I have called them the saints of history, rather than the
martyrs. One, however, had the intrepidity to risk this awful
responsibility, and he stands forth among the most illustrious and
ill-fated examples of HISTORICAL MARTYRDOM!
This great historian is Giannone, whose civil history of the kingdom of
Naples is remarkable for its profound inquiries concerning the civil and
ecclesiastical constitution, the laws and customs of that kingdom. With
some interruptions from his professional avocations at the bar, twenty
years were consumed in writing this history. Researches on
ecclesiastical usurpations, and severe strictures on the clergy, are the
chief subjects of his bold and unreserved pen. These passages, curious,
grave, and indignant, were afterwards extracted from the history by
Vernet, and published in a small volume, under the title of "Anecdotes
Ecclesiastiques," 1738. When Giannone consulted with a friend on the
propriety of publishing his history, his critic, in admiring the work,
predicted the fate of the author. "You have," said he, "placed on your
head a crown of thorns, and of very sharp ones." The historian set at
nought his own personal repose, and in 1723 this elaborate history saw
the light. From that moment the historian never enjoyed a day of quiet!
Rome attempted at first to extinguish the author with his work; all the
books were seized on; and copies of the first edition are of extreme
rarity. To escape the fangs of inquisitorial power, the historian of
Naples flew from Naples on the publication of his immortal work. The
fugitive and excommunicated author sought an asylum at Vienna, where,
though he found no friend in the emperor, Prince Eugene and other nobles
became his patrons. Forced to quit Vienna, he retired to Venice, when a
new persecution arose from the jealousy of the state-inquisitors, who
one night landed him on the borders of the pope's dominions. Escaping
unexpectedly with his life to Geneva, he was preparing a supplemental
volume to his celebrated history, when, enticed by a treacherous friend
to a catholic village, Giannone was arrested by an order of the King of
Sardinia; his manuscripts were sent to Rome, and the historian
imprisoned in a fort. It is curious that the imprisoned Giannone wrote a
vindication of the rights of the King of Sardinia, against the claims of
the court of Rome. This powerful appeal to the feelings of this
sovereign was at first favourably received; but, under the secret
influence of Rome, the Sardinian monarch, on the extraordinary plea that
he kept Giannone as a prisoner of state that he might preserve him from
the papal power, ordered that the vindicator of his rights should be
more closely confined than before; and, for this purpose, transferred
his state-prisoner to the citadel of Turin, where, after twelve years of
persecution and of agitation, our great historian closed his life!
Such was the fate of this historical martyr, whose work the catholic
Haym describes as _opera scritta con molto fuoco e troppa liberta_. He
hints that this history is only paralleled by De Thou's great work. This
Italian history will ever be ranked among the most philosophical. But,
profound as was the masculine genius of Giannone, such was his love of
fame, that he wanted the intrepidity requisite to deny himself the
delight of giving his history to the world, though some of his great
predecessors had set him a noble and dignified example.
One more observation on these Italian historians. All of them represent
man in his darkest colours; their drama is terrific; the actors are
monsters of perfidy, of inhumanity, and inventors of crimes which seem
to want a name! They were all "princes of darkness;" and the age seemed
to afford a triumph of Manicheism! The worst passions were called into
play by all parties. But if something is to be ascribed to the manners
of the times, much more may be traced to that science of politics, which
sought for mastery in an undefinable struggle of ungovernable political
power; in the remorseless ambition of the despots, and the hatreds and
jealousies of the republics. These Italian historians have formed a
perpetual satire on the contemptible simulation and dissimulation, and
the inexpiable crimes of that system of politics, which has derived a
name from one of themselves--the great, may we add, the calumniated,
MACHIAVEL?