rom the oratory and the epistolary writings of the humanists, we shall
here pass on to their other creations, which were all, to a greater or
less extent, reproductions of antiquity.
Among these must be placed the treatise, which often took the shape of
a dialogue. In this case it was borrowed directly from Cicero. In order
to do anything like justice to this class of literature--in order not
to throw it aside at first sight as a bore two things must be taken
into consideration. The century which escaped from the influence of the
Middle Ages felt the need of something to mediate between itself and
antiquity in many questions of morals and philosophy; and this need was
met by the writer of treatises and dialogues. Much which appears to us
as mere commonplace in their writings, was for them and their
contemporaries a new and hard-won view of things upon which mankind had
been silent since the days of antiquity. The language too, in this form
of writing, whether Italian or Latin, moved more freely and flexibly
than in historical narrative, in letters, or in oratory, and thus
became in itself the source of a special pleasure. Several Italian
compositions of this kind still hold their place as patterns of style.
Many of these works have been, or will be mentioned on account of their
contents; we here refer to them as a class. From the time of Petrarch's
letters and treatises down to near the end of the fifteenth century,
the heaping up of learned quotations, as in the case of the orators, is
the main business of most of these writers. Subsequently the whole
style, especially in Italian, was purified, until, in the 'Asolani' of
Bembo, and the 'Vita Sobria' of Luigi Cornaro, a classical perfection
was reached. Here too the decisive fact was this, that antiquarian
matter of every kind had meantime begun to be deposited in encyclopedic
works (now printed), and no longer stood in the way of the essayist.
It was inevitable too that the humanistic spirit should control the
writing of history. A superficial comparison of the histories of this
period with the earlier chronicles, especially with works so full of
life, color, and brilliancy as those of the Villani, will lead us
loudly to deplore the change. How insipid and conventional appear by
their side the best of the humanists, and particularly their immediate
and most famous successors among the historians of Florence, Leonardo
Aretino and Poggio! The enjoyment of the reader is incessantly marred
by the sense that, in the classical phrases of Fazio, Sabellico,
Foglietta, Senarega, Platina in the chronicles of Mantua, Bembo in the
annals of Venice, and even of Giovio in his histories, the best local
and individual coloring and the full sincerity of interest in the truth
of events have been lost. Our mistrust is increased when we hear that
Livy, the pattern of this school of writers, was copied just where he
is least worthy of imitation--on the ground, namely, 'that he turned a
dry and walled tradition into grace and richness.' In the same place we
meet with the suspicious declaration that it is the function of the
historian-- just as if he were one with the poet--to excite, charm, or
overwhelm the reader. We ask ourselves finally, whether the contempt
for modern things, which these same humanists sometimes avowed openly,
must not necessarily have had an unfortunate influence on their
treatment of them. Unconsciously the reader finds himself looking with
more interest and confidence on the unpretending Latin and Italian
annalists, like those of Bologna and Ferrara, who remained true to the
old style, and still more grateful does he feel to the best of the
genuine chroniclers who wrote in Italian--to Marino Sanuto, Corio, and
Infessura--who were followed at the beginning of the sixteenth century
by that new and illustrious band of great national historians who wrote
in their mother tongue.
Contemporary history, no doubt, was written far better in the language
of the day than when forced into Latin. Whether Italian was also more
suitable for the narrative of events long past, or for historical
research, is a question which admits, for that period, of more answers
than one. Latin was, at that time, the 'Lingua franca' of instructed
people, not only in an international sense, as a means of intercourse
between Englishmen, Frenchmen, and Italians, but also in an
interprovincial sense. The Lombard, the Venetian, and the Neapolitan
modes of writing, though long modelled on the Tuscan, and bearing but
slight traces of the dialect were still not recognized by the
Florentines. This was of less consequence in local contemporary
histories, which were sure of readers at the place where they were
written, than in the narratives of the past, for which a larger public
was desired. In these the local interests of the people had to be
sacrificed to the general interests of the learned. How far would the
influence of a man like Biondo of Forli have reached if he had written
his great monuments of learning in the dialect of the Romagna? They
would have assuredly sunk into neglect, if only through the contempt of
the Florentines, while written in Latin they exercised the profoundest
influence on the whole European world of learning. And even the
Florentines in the fifteenth century wrote Latin, not only because
their minds were imbued with humanism, but in order to be more widely
read.
Finally, there exist certain Latin essays in contemporary history which
stand on a level with the best Italian works of the kind. When the
continuous narrative after the manner of Livy--that Procrustean bed of
so many writers is abandoned, the change is marvelous. The same Platina
and Giovio, whose great histories we only read because and so far as we
must, suddenly come forward as masters in the biographical style. We
have already spoken of Tristano Caracciolo, of the biographical works
of Fazio and of the Venetian topography of Sabellico, and others will
be mentioned in the sequel.
The Latin treatises on past history were naturally concerned, for the
most part, with classical antiquity. What we are most surprised to find
among these humanists are some considerable works on the history of the
Middle Ages. The first of this kind was the chronicle of Matteo
Palmieri (449-1449), beginning where Prosper Accedence ceases. On
opening the 'Decades' of Biondo of Forli, we are surprised to find a
universal history, 'ab inclinatione Romanorum imperii,' as in Gibbon,
full of original studies on the authors of each century, and occupied,
through the first 300 folio pages, with early mediaeval history down to
the death of Frederick II. And this when in Northern countries nothing
more was current than chronicles of the popes and emperors, and the
'Fasciculus temporum.' We cannot here stay to show what writings Biondo
made use of, and where he found his materials, though this justice will
some day be done to him by the historians of literature. This book
alone would entitle us to say that it was the study of antiquity which
made the study of the Middle Ages possible, by first training the mind
to habits of impartial historical criticism. To this must be added,
that the Middle Ages were now over for Italy, and that the Italian mind
could the better appreciate them, because it stood outside them. It
cannot, nevertheless, be said that it at once judged them fairly, let
alone with piety. In the arts a strong prejudice established itself
against all that those centuries had created, and the humanists date
the new era from the time of their own appearance. 'I begin,' says
Boccaccio, 'to hope and believe that God has had mercy on the Italian
name, since I see that His infinite goodness puts souls into the
breasts of the Italians like those of the ancients souls which seek
fame by other means than robbery and violence, but rather on the path
of poetry, which makes men immortal.' But this narrow and unjust temper
did not preclude investigation in the minds of the more gifted men, at
a time, too, when elsewhere in Europe any such investigation would have
been out of the question. A historical criticism of the Middle Ages was
practicable, just because the rational treatment of all subjects by the
humanists had trained the historical spirit. In the fifteenth century
this spirit had so far penetrated the history even of the individual
cities of Italy that the stupid fairy tales about the origin of
Florence, Venice, and Milan vanished, while at the same time, and long
after, the chronicles of the North were stuffed with this fantastic
rubbish, destitute for the most part of all poetical value, and
invented as late as the fourteenth century.
The close connection between local history and the sentiment of glory
has already been touched on in reference to Florence. Venice would not
be behindhand. Just as a great rhetorical triumph of the Florentines
would cause a Venetian embassy to write home posthaste for an orator to
be sent after them, so too the Venetians felt the need of a history
which would bear comparison with those of Leonardo Aretino and Poggio.
And it was to satisfy this feeling that, in the fifteenth century, the
'Decades' of Sabellico appeared, and in the sixteenth the 'Historia
rerum Venetarum' of Pietro Bembo, both written at the express charge of
the republic, the latter a continuation of the former.
The great Florentine historians at the beginning of the sixteenth
century were men of a wholly different kind from the Latinists Bembo
and Giovio. They wrote Italian, not only because they could not vie
with the Ciceronian elegance of the philologists, but because, like
Machiavelli, they could only record in a living tongue the living
results of their own immediate observations and we may add in the case
of Machiavelli, of his observation of the past--and because, as in the
case of Guicciardini, Varchi, and many others, what they most desired
was, that their view of the course of events should have as wide and
deep a practical effect as possible. Even when they only write for a
few friends, like Francesco Vettori, they feel an inward need to utter
their testimony on men and events, and to explain and justify their
share in the latter.
And yet, with all that is characteristic in their language and style,
they were powerfully affected by antiquity, and, without its influence,
would be inconceivable. They were not humanists, but they had passed
through the school of humanism and have in them more of the spirit of
the ancient historians than most of the imitators of Livy. Like the
ancients, they were citizens who wrote for citizens.