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