he influence of antiquity on culture, of which we have now to speak,
presupposes that the new learning had gained possession of the
universities. This was so, but by no means to the extent and with the
results which might have been expected.
Few of the Italian universities show themselves in their full vigor
till the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, when the increase of
wealth rendered a more systematic care for education possible. At first
there were generally three sorts of professorships--one for civil law,
another for canonical law, the third for medicine; in course of time
professorships of rhetoric, of philosophy, and of astronomy were added,
the last commonly, though not always, identical with astrology. The
salaries varied greatly in different cases. Sometimes a capital sum was
paid down. With the spread of culture, competition became so active
that the different universities tried to entice away distinguished
teachers from one another, under which circumstances Bologna is said to
have sometimes devoted the half of its public income (20,000 ducats) to
the university. The appointments were as a rule made only for a certain
time, sometimes for only half a year, so that the teachers were forced
to lead a wandering life, like actors. Appointments for life were,
however, not unknown. Sometimes the promise was exacted not to teach
elsewhere what had already been taught at one place. There were also
voluntary, unpaid professors.
Of the chairs which have been mentioned, that of rhetoric was
especially sought by the humanist; yet it depended only on his
familiarity with the matter of ancient learning whether or no be could
aspire to those of law, medicine, philosophy, or astronomy. The inward
conditions of the science of the day were as variable as the outward
conditions of the teacher. Certain jurists and physicians received by
far the largest salaries of all, the former chiefly as consulting
lawyers for the suits and claims of the State which employed them. In
Padua a lawyer of the fifteenth century received a salary of 1,000
ducats, and it was proposed to appoint a celebrated physician with a
yearly payment of 2,000 ducats, and the right of private practice, the
same man having previously received 700 gold florins at Pisa. When the
jurist Bartolommeo Socini, professor at Pisa, accepted a Venetian
appointment at Padua, and was on the point of starting on his journey,
he was arrested by the Florentine government and only released on
payment of bail to the amount of 18,000 gold florins. The high
estimation in which these branches of science were held makes it
intelligible why distinguished philologists turned their attention to
law and medicine, while on the other hand specialists were more and
more compelled to acquire something of a wide literary culture. We
shall presently have occasion to speak of the work of the humanists in
other departments of practical life.
Nevertheless, the position of the philologists, as such, even where the
salary was large, and did not exclude other sources of income, was on
the whole uncertain and temporary, so that one and the same teacher
could be connected with a great variety of institutions. It is evident
that change was desired for its own sake, and something fresh expected
from each newcomer, as was natural at a time when science was in the
making, and consequently depended to no small degree on the personal
influence of the teacher. Nor was it always the case that a lecturer on
classical authors really belonged to the university of the town where
he taught. Communication was so easy, and the supply of suitable
accommodation, in monasteries and elsewhere, was so abundant, that a
private appointment was often practicable. In the first decades of the
fifteenth century, when the University of Florence was at its greatest
brilliance, when the courtiers of Eugenius IV, and perhaps even of
Martin V thronged the lecture-room, when Carlo Aretino and Filelfo were
competing for the largest audience, there existed, not only an almost
complete university among the Augustinians of Santo Spirito, not only
an association of scholars among the Camaldolesi of the Angeli, but
individuals of mark, either singly or in common, arranged to provide
philosophical and philological teaching for themselves and others.
Linguistic and antiquarian studies in Rome had next to no connection
with the university (Sapienza), and depended almost exclusively either
on the favour of individual popes and prelates, or on the appointments
made in the Papal chancery. It was not till Leo X (1513) that the great
reorganization of the Sapienza took place, which now had eighty-eight
lecturers, among whom there were the most able men of Italy, reading
and interpreting the class;cs. But this new brilliancy was of short
duration. We have already spoken briefly of the Greek professorships in
Italy.
To form an accurate picture of the method of scientific instruction
then pursued, we must turn away our eyes as far as possible from our
present academic system. Personal intercourse between the teachers and
the taught, public disputations, the constant use of Latin and often of
Greek, the frequent changes of lecturers and the scarcity of books,
gave the studies of that time a color which we cannot represent to
ourselves without effort.
There were Latin schools in every town of the least importance, not by
any means merely as preparatory to higher education, but because, next
to reading, writing, and arithmetic, the knowledge of Latin was a
necessity; and after Latin came logic. It is to be noted particularly
that these schools did not depend on the Church, but on the
municipality; some of them, too, were merely private enterprises.
This school system, directed by a few distinguished humanists, not only
attained a remarkable perfection of organization, but became an
instrument of higher education in the modern sense of the phrase. With
the education of the children of two princely houses in North Italy
institutions were connected which may be called unique of their kind.
At the court of Giovan Francesco Gonzaga at Mantua (1407-1444) appeared
the illustrious Vittorino da Feltre, one of those men who devote their
whole life to an object for which their natural gifts constitute a
special vocation.
He directed the education of the sons and daughters of the princely
house, and one of the latter became under his care a woman of learning.
When his reputation extended far and wide over Italy, and members of
great and wealthy families came from long distances, even from Germany,
in search of his instructions, Gonzaga was not only willing that they
should be received, but seems to have held it an honour for Mantua to
be the chosen school of the aristocratic world. Here for the first time
gymnastics and all noble bodily exercises were treated along with
scientific instruction as indispensable to a liberal education. Besides
these pupils came others, whose instruction Vittorino probably held to
be his highest earthly aim, the gifted poor, whom he supported in his
house and educated, 'per l'amore di Dio,' along with the highborn
youths who here learned to live under the same roof with untitled
genius. Gonzaga paid him a yearly salary of 300 gold florins, and
contributed to the expenses caused by the poorer pupils. He knew that
Vittorino never saved a penny for himself, and doubtless realized that
the education of the poor was the unexpressed condition of his
presence. The establishment was conducted on strictly religious lines,
stricter indeed than many monasteries.
More stress was laid on pure scholarship by Guarino of Verona
(1370-1460), who in the year 1429 was called to Ferrara by Niccolo d'Este to
educate his son Lionello, and who, when his pupil was nearly grown up
in 1436, began to teach at the university of eloquence and of the
ancient languages. While still acting as tutor to Lionello, he had many
other pupils from various parts of the country, and in his own house a
select class of poor scholars, whom he partly or wholly supported. His
evening hours till far into the night were devoted to hearing lessons
or to instructive conversation. His house, too, was the home of a
strict religion and morality. It signified little to him or to
Vittorino that most of the humanists of their day deserved small praise
in the matter of morals or religion. It is inconceivable how Guarino,
with all the daily work which fell upon him, still found time to write
translations from the Greek and voluminous original works.
Not only in these two courts, but generally throughout Italy, the
education of the princely families was in part and for certain years in
the hands of the humanists, who thereby mounted a step higher in the
aristocratic world. The writing of treatises on the education of
princes, formerly the business of theologians, fell now within their
province.
From the time of Pier Paolo Vergerio the Italian princes were well
taken care of in this respect, and the custom was transplanted into
Germany by Aeneas Sylvius, who addressed detailed exhortations to two
young German princes of the House of Habsburg on the subject of their
further education, in which they are both urged, as might be expected,
to cultivate and nurture humanism. Perhaps Aeneas was aware that in
addressing these youths he was talking in the air, and therefore took
measures to put his treatise into public circulation. But the relations
of the humanists to the rulers will be discussed separately. We have
here first to speak of those citizens, mostly Florentines, who made
antiquarian interests one of the chief objects of their lives, and who
were themselves either distinguished scholars, or else distinguished
dilettanti who maintained the scholars. They were of peculiar
significance during the period of transition at the beginning of the
fifteenth century, since it was in them that humanism first showed
itself practically as an indispensable element in daily life. It was
not till after this time that the popes and princes began seriously to
occupy themselves with it.
Niccolo Niccoli and Giannozzo Manetti have been already spoken of more
than once. Niccoli is described to us by Vespasiano as a man who would
tolerate nothing around him out of harmony with his own classical
spirit. His handsome long-robed figure, his kindly speech, his house
adorned with the noblest remains of antiquity, made a singular
impression. He was scrupulously cleanly in everything, most of all at
table, where ancient vases and crystal goblets stood before him on the
whitest linen. The way in which he won over a pleasure-loving young
Florentine to intellectual interests is too charming not to be here
described. Piero de' Pazzi, son of a distinguished merchant, and
himself destined to the same calling, fair to behold, and much given to
the pleasures of the world, thought about anything rather than
literature. One day, as he was passing the Palazzo del Podesta, Niccolo
called the young man to him, and although they had never before
exchanged a word, the youth obeyed the call of one so respected.
Niccolo asked him who his father was. He answered, 'Messer Andrea de'
Pazzi.' When he was further asked what his pursuit was, Piero replied,
as young people are wont to do, 'I enjoy myself' ('attendo a darmi buon
tempo'). Niccolo said to him, 'As son of such a father, and so fair to
look upon, it is a shame that thou knowest nothing of the Latin
language, which would be so great an ornament to thee. If thou learnest
it not, thou wilt be good for nothing, and as soon as the flower of
youth is over, wilt be a man of no consequence' (virtu). When Piero
heard this, he straightway perceived that it was true, and said that he
would gladly take pains to learn, if only he had a teacher. Whereupon
Niccol• answered that he would see to that. And he found him a learned
man for Latin and Greek, named Pontano, whom Piero treated as one of
his own house, and to whom he paid 100 gold florins a year. Quitting
all the pleasures in which he had hitherto lived, he studied day and
night, and became a friend of all learned men and a nobleminded
statesman. He learned by heart the whole 'neid and many speeches of
Livy, chiefly on the way between Florence and his country house at
Trebbio. Antiquity was represented in another and higher sense by
Giannozzo Manetti (13931459). Precocious from his first years, he was
hardly more than a child when he had finished his apprenticeship in
commerce and became bookkeeper in a bank. But soon the life he led
seemed to him empty and perishable, and he began to yearn after
science, through which alone man can secure immortality. He then busied
himself with books as few laymen had done before him, and became, as
has been said, one of the most profound scholars of his time. When
appointed by the government as its representative magistrate and
tax-collector at Pescia and Pistoia, he fulfilled his duties in accordance
with the lofty ideal with which his religious feeling and humanistic
studies combined to inspire him. He succeeded in collecting the most
unpopular taxes which the Florentine State imposed, and declined
payment for his services. As provincial governor he refused all
presents, abhorred all bribes, checked gambling, kept the country well
supplied with corn, was indefatigable in settling lawsuits amicably,
and did wonders in calming inflamed passions by his goodness. The
Pistoiese were never able to discover to which of the two political
parties he leaned. As if to symbolize the common rights and interests
of all, he spent his leisure hours in writing the history of the city,
which was preserved, bound in a purple cover, as a sacred relic in the
town hall. When he took his leave the city presented him with a banner
bearing the municipal arms and a splendid silver helmet.
For further information as to the learned citizens of Florence at this
period the reader must all the more be referred to Vespasiano, who knew
them all personally, because the tone and atmosphere in which he
writes, and the terms and conditions on which he mixed in their
society, are of even more importance than the facts which he records.
Even in a translation, and still more in the brief indications to which
we are here compelled to limit ourselves, this chief merit of his book
is lost. Without being a great writer, he was thoroughly familiar with
the subject he wrote on, and had a deep sense of its intellectual
significance.
If we seek to analyze the charm which the Medici of the fifteenth
century, especially Cosimo the Elder (d. 1464) and Lorenzo the
Magnificent (d. 1492 ) exercised over Florence and over all their
contemporaries, we shall find that it lay less in their political
capacity than in their leadership in the culture of the age. A man in
Cosimo's position--a great merchant and party leader, who also had on
his side all the thinkers, writers and investigators, a man who was the
first of the Florentines by birth and the first of the Italians by
culture such a man was to all intents and purposes already a prince. To
Cosimo belongs the special glory of recognizing in the Platonic
philosophy the fairest flower of the ancient world of thought, of
inspiring his friends with the same belief, and thus of fostering
within humanistic circles themselves another and a higher resuscitation
of antiquity. The story is known to us minutely. It all hangs on the
calling of the learned Johannes Argyropulos, and on the personal
enthusiasm of Cosimo himself in his last years, which was such that the
great Marsilio Ficino could style himself, as far as Platonism was
concerned, the spiritual son of Cosimo. Under Pietro Medici, Ficino was
already at the head of a school; to him Pietro's son and Cosimo's
grandson, the illustrious Lorenzo, came over from the Peripatetics.
Among his most distinguished fellow-scholars were Bartolommeo Valori,
Donato Acciaiuoli, and Pierfilippo Pandolfini. The enthusiastic teacher
declares in several passages of his writings that Lorenzo had sounded
all the depths of the Platonic philosophy, and had uttered his
conviction that without Plato it would be hard to be a good Christian
or a good citizen. The famous band of scholars which surrounded Lorenzo
was united together, and distinguished from all other circles of the
kind, by this passion for a higher and idealistic philosophy. Only in
such a world could a man like Pico della Mirandola feel happy. But
perhaps the best thing of all that can be said about it is, that, with
all this worship of antiquity, Italian poetry found here a sacred
refuge, and that of all the rays of light which streamed from the
circle of which Lorenzo was the centre, none was more powerful than
this. As a statesman, let each man judge him as he pleases; a foreigner
will hesitate to pronounce what in the fate of Florence was due to
human guilt and what to circumstances, but no more unjust charge was
ever made than that in the field of culture Lorenzo was the protector
of mediocrity, that through his fault Leonardo da Vinci and the
mathematician Fra Luca Pacioli lived abroad, and that Toscanella,
Vespucci, and others remained at least unsupported. He was not, indeed,
a man of universal mind; but of all the great men who have striven to
favour and promote spiritual interests, few certainly have been so
many-sided, and in none probably was the inward need to do so equally
deep.
The age in which we live is loud enough in proclaiming the worth of
culture, and especially of the culture of antiquity. But the
enthusiastic devotion to it, the recognition that the need of it is the
first and greatest of all needs, is nowhere to be found in such a
degree as among the Florentines of the fifteenth and the early part of
the sixteenth centuries. On this point we have indirect proof which
precludes all doubt. It would not have been so common to give the
daughters of the house a share in the same studies, had they not been
held to be the noblest of earthly pursuits, exile would not have been
turned into a happy retreat, as was done by Palla Strozzi; nor would
men who indulged in every conceivable excess have retained the strength
and the spirit to write critical treatises on the Natural History of
Pliny like Filippo Strozzi. Our business here is not to deal out either
praise or blame, but to understand the spirit of the age in all its
vigorous individuality.
Besides Florence, there were many cities of Italy where individuals and
social circles devoted all their energies to the support of humanism
and the protection of the scholars who lived among them. The
correspondence of that period is full of references to personal
relations of this kind. The feeling of the instructed classes set
strongly and almost exclusively in this direction.
But it is now time to speak of humanism at the Italian courts. The
natural alliance between the despot and the scholar, each relying
solely on his personal talent, has already been touched upon; that the
latter should avowedly prefer the princely courts to the free cities,
was only to be expected from the higher pay which he there received. At
a time when the great Alfonso of Aragon seemed likely to become master
of all Italy, Aeneas Sylvius wrote to another citizen of Siena: 'I had
rather that Italy attained peace under his rule than under that of the
free cities, for kingly generosity rewards excellence of every kind.'
Too much stress has latterly been laid on the unworthy side of this
relation, and the mercenary flattery to which it gave rise, just as
formerly the eulogies of the humanists led to a too favourable
judgement on their patrons. Taking all things together, it is greatly
to the honour of the latter that they felt bound to place themselves at
the head of the culture of their age and country, one-sided though this
culture was. In some of the popes, the fearlessness of the consequences
to which the new learning might lead strikes us as something truly, but
unconsciously, imposing. Nicholas V was confident of the future of the
Church, since thousands of learned men supported her. Pius II was far
from making such splendid sacrifices for humanism as were made by
Nicholas, and the poets who frequented his court were few in number;
but he himself was much more the personal head of the republic of
letters than his predecessor, and enjoyed his position without the
least misgiving. Paul II was the first to dread and mistrust the
culture of his secretaries, and his three successors, Sixtus, Innocent,
and Alexander, accepted dedications and allowed themselves to be sung
to the hearts' content of the poets-- there even existed a 'Borgiad,'
probably in hexameter-- but were too busy elsewhere, and too occupied
in seeking other foundations for their power, to trouble themselves
much about the poet-scholars. Julius II found poets to eulogize him,
because he himself was no mean subject for poetry, but he does not seem
to have troubled himself much about them. He was followed by Leo X, 'as
Romulus by Numa'--in other words, after the warlike turmoil of the
previous pontificate, a new one was hoped for wholly given to the
muses. Enjoyment of elegant Latin prose and melodious verse was part of
the pro- gramme of Leo's life, and his patronage certainly had the
result that his Latin poets have left us a living picture of that
joyous and brilliant spirit of the Leonine days, with which the
biography of Jovius is filled, in countless epigrams, elegies, odes,
and orations. Probably in all European history there is no prince who,
in proportion to the few striking events of his life, has received such
manifold homage. The poets had access to him chiefly about noon, when
the musicians had ceased playing; but one of the best among them tells
us how they also pursued him when he walked in his garden or withdrew
to the privacy of his chamber, and if they failed to catch him there,
would try to win him with a mendicant ode or elegy, filled, as usual,
with the whole population of Olympus. For Leo, prodigal of his money,
and disliking to be surrounded by any but cheerful faces, displayed a
generosity in his gifts which was fabulously exaggerated in the hard
times that followed. His reorganization of the Sapienza has been
already spoken of. In order not to underrate Leo's influence on
humanism we must guard against being misled by the toy-work that was
mixed up with it, and must not allow ourselves to be deceived by the
apparent irony with which he himself sometimes treated these matters.
Our judgement must rather dwell on the countless spiritual
possibilities which are included in the word 'stimulus,' and which,
though they cannot be measured as a whole, can still, on closer study,
be actually followed out in particular cases. Whatever influence in
Europe the Italian humanists have had since 1520 depends in some way or
other on the impulse which was given by Leo. He was the Pope who in
granting permission to print the newly found Tacitus, could say that
the great writers were a rule of life and a consolation in misfortune;
that helping learned men and obtaining excellent books had ever been
one of his highest aims; and that he now thanked heaven that he could
benefit the human race by furthering the publication of this book.
The sack of Rome in the year 1527 scattered the scholars no less than
the artists in every direction, and spread the fame of the great
departed Maecenas to the farthest boundaries of Italy.
Among the secular princes of the fifteenth century, none displayed such
enthusiasm for antiquity as Alfonso the Great of Aragon, King of
Naples. It appears that his zeal was thoroughly unaffected, and that
the monuments and writings of the ancient world made upon him, from the
time of his arrival in Italy, an impression deep and powerful enough to
reshape his life. With strange readiness he surrendered the stubborn
Aragon to his brother, and devoted himself wholly to his new
possessions. He had in his service, either successively or to- gether,
George of Trebizond, the younger Chrysoloras, Lorenzo Valla,
Bartolommeo Fazio and Antonio Panormita, of whom the two latter were
his historians; Panormita daily instructed the King and his court in
Livy, even during military expeditions. These men cost him yearly
20,000 gold florins. He gave Panormita 1,000 for his work; Fazio
received for the 'Historia Alfonsi,' besides a yearly income of 500
ducats, a present of 1,500 more when it was finished, with the words,
'It is not given to pay you, for your work would not be paid for if I
gave you the fairest of my cities; but in time I hope to satisfy you.'
When he took Giannozzo Manetti as his secretary on the most brilliant
conditions, he said to him, 'My last crust I will share with you.' When
Giannozzo first came to bring the congratulations of the Florentine
government on the marriage of Prince Ferrante, the impression he made
was so great, that the King sat motionless on the throne, 'like a
brazen statue, and did not even brush away a fly, which had settled on
his nose at the beginning of the oration.' His favorite haunt seems to
have been the library of the castle at Naples, where he would sit at a
window overlooking the bay, and listen to learned debates on the
Trinity. For he was profoundly religious, and had the Bible, as well as
Livy and Seneca, read to him, till after fourteen perusals he knew it
almost by heart. Who can fully understand the feeling with which he
regarded the suppositions remains of Livy at Padua? When, by dint of
great entreaties, he obtained an arm-bone of the skeleton from the
Venetians, and received it with solemn pomp at Naples, how strangely
Christian and pagan sentiment must have been blended in his heart!
During a campaign in the Abruzzi, when the distant Sulmona, the
birthplace of Ovid, was pointed out to him, he saluted the spot and
returned thanks to its tutelary genius. It gladdened him to make good
the prophecy of the great poet as to his future fame. Once indeed, at
his famous entry into the conquered city of Naples (1443) he himself
chose to appear before the world in ancient style. Not far from the
market a breach forty ells wide was made in the wall, and through this
he drove in a gilded chariot like a Roman Triumphator. The memory of
the scene is preserved by a noble triumphal arch of marble in the
Castello Nuovo. His Neapolitan successors inherited as little of this
passion for antiquity as of his other good qualities.
Alfonso was far surpassed in learning by Federigo of Urbino, who had
but few courtiers around him, squandered nothing, and in his
appropriation of antiquity, as in all other things, went to work
considerately. It was for him and for Nicholas V that most of the
translations from the Greek, and a number of the best commentaries and
other such works, were written. He spent much on the scholars whose
services he used, but spent it to good purpose. There were no traces of
a poets' court at Urbino, where the Duke himself was the most learned
in the whole court. Classical antiquity, indeed, only formed a part of
his culture. An accomplished ruler, captain, and gentleman, he had
mastered the greater part of the science of the day, and this with a
view to its practical application. As a theologian, he was able to
compare Scotus with Aquinas, and was familiar with the writings of the
old Fathers of the Eastern and Western Churches, the former in Latin
translations. In philosophy, he seems to have left Plato altogether to
his contemporary Cosimo, but he knew thoroughly not only the Ethics and
Politics of Aristotle but the Physics and some other works. The rest of
his reading lay chiefly among the ancient historians, all of whom he
possessed; these, and not the poets, 'he was always reading and having
read to him.'
The Sforza, too, were all of them men of more or less learning and
patrons of literature; they have been already referred to in passing.
Duke Francesco probably looked on humanistic culture as a matter of
course in the education of his children, if only for political reasons.
It was felt universally to be an advantage if a prince could mix with
the most instructed men of his time on an equal footing. Lodovico il
Moro, himself an excellent Latin scholar, showed an interest in
intellectual matters which extended far beyond classical antiquity.
Even the petty rulers strove after similar distinctions, and we do them
injustice by thinking that they only supported the scholars at their
courts as a means of diffusing their own fame. A ruler like Borso of
Ferrara, with all his vanity, seems by no means to have looked for
immortality from the poets, eager as they were to propitiate him with a
'Borseid' and the like. He had far too proud a sense of his own
position as a ruler for that. But intercourse with learned men,
interest in antiquarian matters, and the passion for elegant Latin
correspondence were necessities for the princes of that age. What
bitter complaints are those of Duke Alfonso, competent as he was in
practical matters, that his weakliness in youth had forced him to seek
recreation in manual pursuits only! or was this merely an excuse to
keep the humanists at a distance? A nature like his was not
intelligible even to contemporaries.
Even the most insignificant despots of Romagna found it hard to do
without one or two men of letters about them. The tutor and secretary
were often one and the same person, who sometimes, indeed, acted as a
kind of court factotum. We are apt to treat the small scale of these
courts as a reason for dismissing them with a too ready contempt,
forgetting that the highest spiritual things are not precisely matters
of measurement.
Life and manners at the court of Rimini must have been a singular
spectacle under the bold pagan Condottiere Sigismondo Malatesta. He had
a number of scholars around him, some of whom he provided for
liberally, even giving them landed estates, while others earned at
least a livelihood as officers in his army. In his citadel--'arx
Sismundea'--they used to hold discussions, often of a very venomous
kind, in the presence of the 'rex,' as they termed him. In their Latin
poems they sing his praises and celebrate his amour with the fair
Isotta, in whose honour and as whose monument the famous rebuilding of
San Francesco at Rimini took place 'Divae Isottae Sacrum.' When the
humanists themselves came to die, they were laid in or under the
sarcophagi with which the niches of the outside walls of the church
were adorned, with an inscription testifying that they were laid here
at the time when Sigismundus, the son of Pandulfus, ruled. It is hard
for us nowadays to believe that a monster like this prince felt
learning and the friendship of cultivated people to be a necessity of
life; and yet the man who excommunicated him, made war upon him, and
burnt him in effigy, Pope Pius II, says: 'Sigismondo knew history and
had a great store of philosophy; he seemed born to all that he
undertook.'