James Dennistoun

Italian literature subject to new influences—The academies—Federigo Comandino—Guidobaldo del Monte—The Paciotti—Leonardi—Muzio Oddi—Bernardino Baldi—Girolamo Muzio—Federigo Bonaventura.

“FOR a long lapse of years, Italy had been an organised body of highly civilised states, different in their origin, laws, and constitutions, divided by local jealousies and opposite interests, constantly engaged in their endeavours to establish a political equilibrium by the manoeuvres of a wary and even unprincipled diplomacy, baffled oftentimes in their ambitious schemes, and brought into sudden collision, but still deriving new energies from their very rivalry, and promoting, with their own, the interests of social progress."[131]

It was in a state of things thus happily described that letters and art attained their zenith of glory in the Peninsula. But the close of the fifteenth century had introduced elements of change, which a fatal policy permitted to spread. Those foreign aggressions and domestic convulsions which we have seen extirpating nationality and crushing independence were not less destructive to mind and its efforts. A struggle of thirty-five years against her ultramontane invaders,—a series of unavailing because ill-directed and discordant efforts,—closed with the coronation of Charles V., and left Italy for nearly two centuries at the mercy of Spain. The states which escaped the direct miseries of that iron domination, and retained a nominal independence under the papal sway or their native dynasties, sank unresisting before an influence affecting at once their politics, their manners, and their literature. The pride of the Spaniard had long been proverbial, and was little susceptible of modification even in a new country. The conquered race quickly conformed to fashions which they could neither shake off nor exclude. They aped a pompous bearing that sat with singularly bad grace upon a vanquished people, and the affectation which at first loaded their language with fulsome epithets, soon corrupted their writings by elaborate adulation. It is difficult for those whose taste has been formed upon the models of a less copious language to judge fairly of Italian ornamental literature, for its authors, in availing themselves of the resources at their command, are prone to lavish them too unsparingly. When tried by such a standard their prose may seem tedious or tumid verbiage, their epics may teem with overstrained hyperbole, and even their lighter poetry may appear to substitute subtle conceits and elaborate epithets for graceful ease and flexibility. But these idiomatic peculiarities are but echoes of the national genius, and ought not perhaps in fairness to be subjected to canons of criticism unknown to their authors. Yet it cannot be denied that facilities such as the language of Italy affords to flowery composition are virtually premiums on feebleness, and that decorations of style afford a tempting disguise for indolence of mind or poverty of matter. The influence of petty courts was peculiarly and fatally favourable to such qualities. Trifling incidents there assumed an importance that justified magniloquence befitting loftier themes, whilst the narrow views common to limited circles found ample scope in exaggerated phrases of metaphor and hyperbole. Thus came abundance without fertility, exuberance yielding only redundancy.

Associations and clubs for political or social objects being then incompatible equally with the spirit of governments and the habits of the people, men readily formed themselves into religious confraternities or literary academies. But these academies acted as drags upon the progress of that literature which they were instituted to promote; they clogged its chariot wheels with devices originally dictated by pedantry, and soon degenerating into puerile verbiage. From the draughts of inflated poetry and corrupted rhetoric which they manufactured, every stimulating ingredient was gradually withdrawn, while opiates were freely introduced in their stead. They thus lulled to sleep what little public spirit had survived the subjugation of the Peninsula; and the governments of the new rÉgime, quickly aware of their emasculating tendencies, lavished upon them patronage until they deluged the land, and stifled the energies of the national mind in all-prevailing mediocrity. The classic spirit of the fifteenth century had originated this mischief, by diverting letters from the sphere of popular sympathy, and nourishing that affectation to which an almost exclusive study of the dead languages must ever lead. But the evil was aggravated by Spanish influence. Ingrafting frigid forms and stately phrases upon the lively intercourse of a naturally light-hearted people, it did for the manners what pedantry had effected for the letters of Italy. Nature and originality were replaced by imitation and servility. Parodies suppressed inspiration, compliments chilled cordiality. In both cases genius languished, epithets multiplied, and terse and vigorous diction passed with independence to happier lands.

In all histories of Italian literature the academies occupy a conspicuous place, and we have already noticed the Assorditi of Urbino, for whom municipal vanity has asserted an origin in the reign of Duke Federigo.[132] They appear to have occasionally met as early at least as that of his successor, although not formally constituted until about 1520. Their name, like that of most similar associations, being probably adopted from some foolish whim, the next step was to invent a badge suited to the humour of the times, so they assumed "the ship of Ulysses surrounded by sirens"; and for motto, playing at once on sound and sense Canitur surdis, "They sing to the deaf." The word assorditi properly means "the deafened," but its signification might be stretched by punning to include absurdity, niggardness, or filth, none of them very flattering qualities to connect with the epithet. The rolls of this fantastic association included many authors who were harboured at Urbino, but it is in no way identified with their reputation. Having fallen into neglect, it was revived in 1623, and, after nearly a century of provincialism, was once more reconstituted in 1723.

As these literary associations rose, their predecessors, the scholastic academies, declined. That which Lorenzo the Magnificent had founded at his villa of Carreggi, was closed in 1522, and Platonism having consequently waned, the Stagirite philosophy was once more master of the field. But another and more deadly struggle awaited it. When men began to study nature and base their reasonings upon her laws, the deficiencies of their old guide were detected, and its authority was impugned. Yet the peripatetic system was too deeply founded to be at once dismissed, and the ingenuity of its disciples was long directed to accommodate its dogmas to modern discoveries,—a vain effort which only divided their ranks and led them into inextricable dilemmas, until Galileo appeared "to furnish forth creation," and conduct them clear of the labyrinth by a silver thread of truth. But though a new light had dawned, new snares beset the way. From bold investigation and speculative inquiry, ecclesiastical authority and civil despotism had much to lose, nothing to gain. Their side was therefore soon chosen. War was declared against thought, backed by the whole armoury of oppression. Where prevention failed, persecution followed, and the censor's veto was enforced by rack and faggot.

Thus was it that the Reformation had but an indirect influence on the Italian mind. The scanty seeds wafted across the Alps fell upon stony ground, and ere long withered away. But the great reaction of the papacy was not only directed against the new truths; it waged war upon every thing calculated to afford them a disguise under which they might become dangerous. The policy of pontiffs and the duty of the Inquisition tended to exclude all light, lest any rays of Protestantism should reach the faithful. During three centuries have these efforts been continued; and when we consider the talent by which they have been directed, the stern ministers by whom they have been carried out, we well may wonder that the Italian mind has not been utterly debased by foreign tyranny and priestly domination. They have sown the wind; it remains to reap the whirlwind.

The fashion for classic imitation was succeeded in Italy by an age of rhetoricians, with Bembo at their head, and the academies as their strongholds. But they either encouraged or inadequately repressed a too fluent facility which has ever since been the blemish of their mellifluous language. In Boccalini's satirical Ragguagli di Parnaso, some prolix writer is condemned to a perusal of Guicciardini's narrative of the Pisan war; but, after a brief essay, he avows his preference for the galleys to pursuing, through dreary details, the siege and capture of a pigeon-house. This biting jest is applicable in a far greater degree to other writers of the sixteenth century, whose cumbrous grandiloquence is often diluted by trivialities, or tinselled with factitious pomp. Yet there were some authors of purer taste, who resisted such extravagance, and it is curious to find Caro, della Casa, and Bernardo Tasso concerting measures for curtailing the use of superabundant compliments. The two principal points of their attack were the recent substitution of the feminine pronoun in the third person singular for the second person plural in addressing any one, and the indiscriminate use of Lordship, Excellency, Gentility, as courteous phrases, to the entire exclusion of Master and Madam. Against the former of these abuses Caro and Tasso declare open war; but, although they unite in condemnation of the latter as still more fatal to vernacular purity, and avow themselves ready to support any onset, each shrinks from leading the charge. "This age of ours is altogether given up to adulation. Every one, in inditing a letter, bandies 'lordship'; all expect it when addressed. And not, forsooth, our grandees alone, but even the middle classes and the very plebeians aspire to such distinctions, taking affront if they receive them not, and noting as blunderers all who do not offer them the like. Most silly and revolting does it seem to me that we should have to speak to one person as if he were another, always talking to a sort of ideal abstraction, quite different from the individual himself. Yet this abuse is now established and general." Thus far Caro, to whom Tasso replies, "Oh the wonderful charm of Italy, which every one seeks to destroy! It sufficed not that the Goths, the Vandals, and other strange and barbarous nations have sought, and still seek, to possess thee, and that multitudes flock hither from earth's farthest corners; even Lordships, never previously seen or known here, quitting their native Spain, are come in swarms to sojourn among us, and have so mastered our vanity and ambition that we cannot shake them from our shoulders." In a subsequent letter to Claudio Tolomei, Bernardo congratulates him on having applied the lash to such empty titles, and promises to follow his example by retrenching them all when he revises his own letters for the press.[133] But these attempts met with little success; redundant superlatives still lead Italian literature, and an Italian letter is little more than a tissue of exaggerated epithets, from its address to its signature.[134]

Few branches of human knowledge more flourished during the palmy days of Italian literature than the exact sciences, especially in connection with military affairs, and the elegant arts. Their application to both objects was received with marked favour by the successive Dukes of Urbino, who, for a century and a half, combined the pursuit of arms with the patronage of art. We have seen this done by Federigo and Guidobaldo I., for the defence of their duchy and the decoration of their capital; we now have to mention the progress of similar studies under the della Rovere princes. During the latter epoch, pure mathematics were brought into fashion by numerous translations of standard Greek works into Latin or Italian, a labour shared by various literati of Urbino, but especially by Comandino, Baldi, and Alessandro Giorgi. This, however, but served to facilitate their practical development in pursuits more congenial to those martial dispositions for which the inhabitants of Romagna have in all ages been noted. Whilst the revived literature of Greece and the philosophy of Plato flourished on the banks of the Arno, the exact sciences were cultivated in the highlands of Umbria, and took the practical turn of strengthening those fastnesses with which nature had provided that mountain-land. Francesco di Giorgio, of Siena, was less in request by Dukes Federigo and Guidobaldo as architect of their stately palaces, than as the most famous military engineer of his time. Events which made their duchy the seat of repeated invasions early in the sixteenth century, as well as the warlike character of Francesco Maria I., maintained a demand for fortifications, and, from the school which thus grew up in his capital, there issued a series of military architects whose fame and services extended beyond the Alps.

The first of these whom we shall mention was Federigo Comandino, born at Urbino, in 1509, of a noble family. His grandfather was secretary of Duke Federigo, whose last confidential instructions he received, when death surprised that veteran general in the fens of Ferrara. Baldi has claimed the invention of those bulwarks in fortification called baluardi for his father, Gian Battista,[135] who built the walls at Urbino in the beginning of the sixteenth century. After a liberal education, Federigo passed several years at the court of Clement VII., nominally as a privy chamberlain, but really to amuse with learned disquisitions the Pontiff's leisure hours, on whose death he repaired to Padua, where he devoted ten years to the study of philosophy and medicine. Having graduated, he settled for clinical practice at Ferrara, but seems soon to have abandoned the healing art for mathematical research. He accompanied his sovereign, Guidobaldo II., to the camp at Verona when in the Venetian service, and, having gained his confidence by successfully treating him in a severe illness, he was selected to instruct him in astronomy and cosmography, as well as in military tactics and engineering. Soon, however, resuming his more abstruse studies, under the patronage of Cardinal Ranuccio Farnese, brother of Duchess Vittoria, he was carried by him to Rome, and introduced into the society of Annibale Caro, Fulvio Orsini, Baldassare Turrio, and Cardinal Cervini, the last of whom was cut off too quickly after his election as Marcellus II. to be able to benefit his friends. But for Comandino ambition offered few temptations, and courts had no charm. In studious retirement he devoted to the exact sciences the matured powers of a comprehensive and most retentive mind. He explored all that classical authors were known to have left on these subjects, and rendered again accessible much that lay forgotten among the rubbish of by-gone learning. He translated, and copiously edited, Ptolemy's treatise on the planisphere, which was published at Venice, in 1558, and, four years afterwards, gave to the world a work on the analemma, founded upon the same author's previous and imperfect discoveries. His labours were then transferred to the writings of Archimedes, several of which he printed for the first time, as well as the dissertations of Serenus and Apollonius upon conic sections, all with elaborate commentaries.

After spending the prime of life in these pursuits at Rome, he returned to his native duchy, where his instructions in mathematics were sought by Prince Francesco Maria, with whom he read and expounded Euclid's Elements; and afterwards, at the request of his pupil, published a Latin translation of them. It was about 1569 that he was visited there by a young Englishman named John Dea, whose love of the exact sciences induced him to seek so distinguished a professor, and who supplied him with some Arabic MSS., hitherto unknown.[136] Six years thereafter he was surprised by death, with many unfinished works on his hands, part whereof saw the light under the superintendence of the Marquis Guidobaldo del Monte. The life of a hard student is rarely one of varied incident; and even the voluble pen of his pupil Baldi has failed to illustrate that of Comandino with interest, beyond his scholiast labours.[137] Yet severity formed no part of his social character, and he was ready at all times to relax his toils by Epicurean indulgences, which are said eventually to have curtailed his life. To the last, however, his engrossing pleasure was in books; and, although his works number more translations than original compositions, he is ranked by Montucla among the most able and judicious of commentators.

One of the pupils whom Comandino left in his native state was Guidobaldo, Marquis del Monte, who was born of distinguished lineage, in 1544. Tiraboschi has cited, as a singular proof of the engrossing nature of his studies, the fact that his life offers a nearly total want of incident. So tranquilly did his days flow on at his castle of Monte Baroccio, amid abstruse occupations, that he seemed to have forgotten a world unconscious of his very existence, and the only memorials of his life are his works. His treatise upon Perspective successfully carried forward what had been indicated by Pietro della Francesca in the preceding century, and he was afterwards engaged upon the doctrine of Planispheres, the correction of the kalendar, and the solution of astronomical problems. But though thus devoted to abstruse science, he spared a portion of his thoughts for its practical branches, working upon mechanics, and translating from Archimedes. It is unnecessary here to go into an examination of results which modern discoveries have left far behind; the ground has been well sifted by Montucla, whose work indicates whatever is still of value in this class of now somewhat superseded labours. The Marquis was addressed by Torquato Tasso in a sonnet beginning Miserator de' gran celesti campi, and died early in the seventeenth century, survived by a younger brother, Francesco Maria, who had been made cardinal by Sixtus V.

Among the names distinguished in Urbino for mathematical talent, that of Paciotti was conspicuous. Jacopo Paciotti, who held several situations of trust under the two first Dukes of the Rovere dynasty, was father of three sons, all eminent proficients in the exact sciences. Felice was one of those commissioned to rectify the Gregorian Kalendar, and invented an instrument for constructing dial-plates. Orazio became a military engineer, and erected fortresses for the States of the Church, for Savoy, and for Lucca, with such reputation that his services were sought for Poland and for the Emperor Rudolph. But the most remarkable of the family was Francesco,[*138] who, after enjoying a liberal education, and thoroughly grounding himself in architecture under Girolamo Genga, went to Rome, where, in 1550,[*139] he was named engineer-in-chief by Julius III. Next year, he was employed to fortify Ancona against the dreaded descents of the Turk; but, leaving this undertaking to be completed by Fontana, he passed in 1551, to the service of the Farnesi, and thence to that of Emanuel Duke of Savoy, with 60 scudi of monthly pay. He soon afterwards published a plan of Rome; but his attention was chiefly devoted to military architecture, in which his reputation rapidly spread. In 1558, he was employed by Philip II. to survey, and report upon, the principal defences of the Low Countries, for which he was remunerated with 6000 scudi, and a massive gold chain.

Paciotti was now on the ladder of royal favour, and, having accompanied Duke Emanuel to Paris, for his marriage, was decorated by Henry II. with another magnificent chain worth 1000 scudi. The gorgeous compliment, however, nearly cost him his life, for, while wearing it next day, he was set upon by two robbers, one of whom he slew, and wounded the other, a feat which procured him new marks of favour. The next ten years of his life were chiefly spent in the service of Savoy; but he was at various times summoned for engineering purposes to Spain and Flanders. The warm personal regard in which he was held by Philip II. was proved by his winning a bet, that he would make that proud monarch hold a light to examine his plans, and was more substantially shown by many rich presents which he carried from that court. In consequence of recommendations from his Catholic Majesty, he had from the King of Portugal the order of Jesus Christ; and in 1578, at the Duke of Savoy's request, the Castle of Montefabri was erected into a countship in his favour, by Francesco Maria II. of Urbino. After for several years superintending fortifications in the papal states, and those of the Grand Duke of Tuscany, he retired to his native place, and passed the remainder of his life in honourable ease, enjoying from various sovereigns pensions of above 3000 scudi a year. He died in 1591, aged seventy, leaving behind him a European reputation, and three sons, in whom the mathematical talents of the family were hereditarily developed, all being military engineers of some note; one of them, Federigo, became a Knight of Malta, and Guidobaldo was blown up by a mine, while in the service of Charles V.

Gian Giacomo Leonardi is mentioned by a recent writer[140] as "one of those extraordinary men, so abundant in Italy during the fifteenth and following century, who have left little fame to posterity, and who, though universally known in their day, were after death forgotten, and overlooked by subsequent writers." Nor is this surprising in his case; for his distinction, gained in the camp, was spread still wider by his diplomacy. He was at one moment referred to on delicate points of honour between knights and sovereigns; at another consulted on questions of legal intricacy; whilst his writings have remained unedited and unknown. They are all upon fortification and engineering, and are enumerated by Promis in his elaborate compilation upon these subjects. His services, though eagerly sought by great monarchs, were affectionately devoted to his native princes, being long companion in arms of Francesco Maria I., and ambassador to Venice from Guidobaldo II. He was born at Pesaro, near which he had from the latter the countship of Monte l'Abbate in 1540, with permission to bear the name and arms of della Rovere, and died about 1560.

Although we have been led to mention engineers in connection with mathematical science, they were in these days usually architects, and regarded as belonging to the class of artists. Ricotti informs us that no vocation was more varied or laborious. Uniting the practice of arms with an intimate knowledge of design, their services were sought for in every part of Europe, either to plan fortresses, build palaces, cast statues, paint frescoes, execute hydraulics, or command troops. Lazzari, in his Uomini Illustri del Piceno, enumerates sixteen such as conferring lustre upon Urbino, but of these we shall only name one more. Muzio Oddi was nobly born there, in 1569. In 1595, he accompanied, as military engineer, a contingent sent by the Duke into Burgundy; and, three years after, employed his architectural skill for the festive decorations in honour of a visit by Clement VIII. to his native city. He had less success in placing a cupola upon the cathedral there, in 1604, which was said to contain 100,000 pounds of iron-work and 80,000 of lead, the weight of which brought it down in 1789. On some indistinctly recorded charge, he was thrown into the citadel of Pesaro, and there detained many years in a loathsome dungeon. Denied the use of books or writing materials, he made for himself ink of charcoal and candle-soot, mixed with water in a walnut-shell, and, by pasting together shreds of paper with bread-dough, contrived to jot down mathematical treatises on sundials and the square, using for compasses a couple of twigs tied together. On his liberation, in 1609, he passed into Lombardy, and spent above twenty years of exile in sighing for his country; nor was it till within two years of the close of life that he was appointed mathematical professor at Urbino. He died at seventy, leaving a Treatise on Mathematics, in two volumes 4to.

Bernardino Baldi[*141] has a double claim upon our attention, as the most prolific writer whom the duchy has produced, and as one who devoted a large share of his literary labours to the illustration of his native state. He was born at Urbino in 1553, of a family which, during several generations, had held with credit various important situations in the magistracy. By force of that extraordinary diligence, which continued to stimulate his entire life, his youthful studies advanced with precocious success; yet it is singular to find him confessing that his early inclinations were all towards painting, and that his preference of his pencil to his grammatical exercises often brought him into intimate acquaintance with the birch. We cannot echo the observation of his biographer AffÒ,[*142] that this discipline may have deprived Urbino of a second Raffaele; but though he assuredly was gifted neither with the lofty genius nor the pervading sense of beauty which characterised his countryman, a deep devotional feeling would doubtless have inspired his paintings. The peculiar connection which existed at Urbino between the exact sciences and the liberal arts frequently attracts our notice; and this it may have been which led the thwarted painter to turn with his accustomed energy to mathematical studies, under Federigo Comandino, for whose edition of Euclid, published in 1572, he is said to have drawn the diagrams. It was about this time, that, urged by his parents to choose between law and medicine for a profession, he preferred the latter, rather, as he tells us, from its analogy with philosophical inquiries than with any special liking for the healing art. With these views he was sent to the University of Padua, where he brought his vast application successively to bear upon logic, and ethical and physical philosophy, varied by his favourite mathematics, and by a comprehensive cycle of Greek literature. To that seat of learning there then resorted the youth of ultramontane lands, whose harsh language so piqued Baldi's curiosity, and developed his prodigious philological talents, that in an inconceivably short time he mastered French and German. But these multifarious pursuits did not suffice his versatile mind, so he enlivened them by draughts of the Castalian spring. There may seem something ludicrous in an epic, entitled "Artillery," and illustrative of gunnery practice; but a theme so ponderous for poetry was suited to the spirit of the age, as well as congenial to its author's thoughts. A visit to the mountain home of Petrarch, at Arqua, gave, however, a lighter turn to his muse, and taught his number to flow in madrigals, to the honour of some nameless Laura of his love or fancy, containing more borrowed classicism than inspired passion.

In 1575 he returned home, to share the last labours, and watch the death-bed, of his friend Comandino, and to encounter from his parents many a remonstrance as to his neglected professional acquirements, of which, in the various food with which he had appeased his literary craving at the university, he seems entirely to have lost sight. But their efforts were vain. The Eugubinean tables, that philological enigma, having attracted his attention, he boldly encountered their solution, and studied Arabic as a stepping-stone to the lost dialects of Central Italy. His biographers insert Etruscan in the catalogue of his polyglot acquirements, but the tables of Gubbio remain a puzzle to antiquaries. Those who made literature a profession, before there existed a "public" to remunerate their exertions, looked for maintenance to princes or private patrons; and in 1580 Baldi gratefully accepted the offer of Don Ferrante Gonzaga, Lord of Guastalla, to instruct him in mathematics, on an allowance of ten scudi a month, besides board for himself and a servant,—an appointment which made him favourably known to Cardinal (afterwards St.) Carlo Borromeo, uncle of that prince, and to many persons of literary reputation who frequented his miniature court. There his time was divided between mathematical and poetic compositions, until, in 1586, a sudden change took place in his position by his adopting a clerical habit, at the request of Don Ferrante, in order that he might hold the Abbacy of Guastalla, the emoluments of which yielded him about 320 golden ducats. This promotion brought out a curious feature in the character of so hard a student, and we find him immediately repairing to Rome, to canvass for the higher honours of a titular bishopric, on being refused which, he struggled for permission to wear some trifling distinction in his canonical robes with pertinacity befitting a worldling rather than a philosopher. Neither was it from such a character that we should have looked for a zeal in the maintenance of ecclesiastical discipline, which led him beyond the bounds of prudence in wielding his inquisitorial powers.[*143]

Those theological studies which usually precede ordination were in his case followed out with his wonted energy, after obtaining the preferment to which they are generally intended to lead, and it was probably then that he added Hebrew and Chaldee to his accomplishments. But his first great undertaking, after thus gaining a position of leisure and independence, was a General Biography of famous mathematicians. This he never completed for the press; but a sort of vidimus of the three hundred and sixty lives, which it was intended to contain, was printed after his death, with the title Cronica de' Mathematici. Several minor works in science and literature at the same time occupied his pen, among which were his Description of the Urbino palace, his Eulogy of that state, and his History of Guastalla. Nor were his poetic inspirations neglected, and, besides a variety of occasional effusions, his Nautica, or the Art of Navigation, was printed at Venice in 1590. We may include among his lighter labours an Essay on History, dedicated in 1611 to the Duke of Urbino, and lately published by Cardinal Mai.[144] Although, like most similar essays, some of its observations are trite and even trivial, the various topics are well handled, and many useful suggestions are offered as to the best method and style for history, the qualities requisite in its author and desirable for its students. It would have been well had Baldi attended, in his historical biographies, to his own recommendation, that the prolix and copious diction of Livy should be chastened by that terse and sententious manner found in Tacitus and Sallust. Nor were it amiss that he had construed less literally the maxim by which Pliny the Younger pleads for mediocrity, Content yourself to do much indifferently, if it be beyond you to do a little well.[145]

Although Baldi appears to have entered the Church rather from temporal considerations than any spiritual vocation, no priest was ever more tenacious of rights and privileges; and it was his misfortune to find, in the exercise of his ecclesiastical functions, ever-recurring misunderstandings with his clergy or the civil authorities, and even with the superior tribunals at Rome. Through these we shall not follow him. As early as 1590, the Duke of Urbino interfered as a friendly counsellor to recommend him moderate measures; but new jars from time to time recurred, and in 1609 he carried into effect a step which he had proposed seventeen years before, by resigning his benefice, under reservation of two-fifths of its income. But these wranglings penetrated not within the portal of his study, where his active mind and adamantine pen laboured assiduously, through good report and bad, upon the most incongruous matters.

The Abbot renounced his preferment on the plea of family matters, requiring his presence in his native city, and, faithful to this domestic duty, declined an offer from Cardinal d'Este of a situation in his household. His own sovereign received him with that friendship he ever extended to men of piety and literary merit, and, in 1612, sent him on a mission to congratulate the New Doge of Venice.[*146] The remainder of his life passed in peace, amid the varied resources of an ever-busy mind, interrupted only by those occasional bereavements, whereby, as years wear on, death warns us that our turn will also come. Besides sad breaches in his domestic circle, Baldi had to mourn his long-attached friend Baroccio, the painter, who died in 1612. Prepared by such proofs of human frailty, he resigned his spirit on the 10th of October, after a lingering but lenient malady, and was carried to the tomb amid the sincere regrets of many friends and admirers.[*147] It was remarked that, in his long and minute will, he left no instructions regarding his multifarious unpublished works, most of which passed into the library of his relations, the Albani, where they remain at Rome. His epitaph reckons his compositions at forty-eight,[*148] and the languages he knew at twelve, which Crescimbeni increases to sixteen—substantial testimony to that avidity of application which is said to have been habitually appeased by perusing the Fathers whilst at table, and by conning over Euclid in Arabic, as an aid to digestion. To detail and criticise the results of labours as Protean as Herculean is a task which we cannot attempt. His diligent biographer AffÒ enumerates about thirty printed works, running to above two thousand 4to pages, and seventy left in manuscript, some of which have been since published. They may be thus classed:—

Of these a number were translations, chiefly from Arabic and other Oriental tongues. It is evident that his own preference lay towards his compositions in verse, a judgment which wants confirmation if continued popularity be the test. Yet several of his fugitive poems, and especially some sonnets on the ruins of Rome, possess much lyric beauty; and, though his epic on the Deluge is but a wretched attempt at novelty in versification, that on the Art of Navigation is a work of merit for the age which produced it. Hallam, after classing it with Bernardo Tasso's Amadigi, as two of the most remarkable productions of that sort then written in Italy, pronounces the Nautica "a didactic poem in blank verse, too minute sometimes, and prosaic in detail, like most of its class, but neither low, turgid, or obscure, as many others have been. The descriptions, though never very animated, are sometimes poetical and pleasing. Baldi is diffuse, and this conspires with the triteness of his matter to render the poem somewhat uninteresting. He by no means wants power to adorn his subject, but does not always trouble himself to exert it, and is tame where he might be spirited. Few poems bear more evident marks that their substance had been previously written down in prose." But what he wanted in genius—for therein lay his great deficiency—he in some degree supplied by wonderful versatility. Whichever of his many subjects he took up seemed that in which he was born to excel. Of his painstaking diligence we have said much, but we may add the pertinent remark of Grossi, "that so extensive was his reading as apparently to leave no time for writing, and yet that he wrote about as much as it seemed possible for any one to read." To this Tiraboschi adds the more flattering testimony that "his praises would be appropriate to almost each chapter of this history, for there was scarcely any department of literature and science in which he did not apply himself and attain excellence."

By an author so prolific, redundancy and diffuseness, the blemishes of his age, were inevitable. But in his lives of the two Montefeltrian dukes, these are conjoined with a tendency to elaborate his details into microscopic minuteness, which weary and distract the reader, and which, though valuable adjuncts to the testimony of an eye-witness, engender more suspicion than credit in a narrative compiled, after a long interval, from less specific authorities. Being, however, a shrewd observer and diligent narrator, anxious to do full justice to his subject, these works, although deficient in personal interest, and relieved by no enlarged views or general application, fulfil the task prescribed by his patron, the last Duke della Rovere; and, were his life of Francesco Maria I. to be published,[149] Baldi would be our standard historiographer of the duchy. In him are, indeed, wanting the qualities of a philosophic historian,—elevation of sentiment, variety of matter, selection of incident; but they belonged not to his age, and were scarcely compatible with his position. The fate of Scarpi and Varchi gave timely warning to the literary world, that historic verity might have its martyrs, as well as metaphysical speculation of religious truth. His life of Duke Federigo, written in 1603, was printed in 1824; that of Guidobaldo I., completed in 1615, saw the light in 1821. The substance of these narratives had, however, been appropriated and published by Reposati, omitting imaginary conversations and supposititious harangues. Of the degree of impartiality with which they were compiled, an idea may be formed from the following extracts of letters addressed to their author by his sovereign, proving that his judgment was not by any means left unfettered:—"It has given me satisfaction to hear all that you have written me in regard to the life of Duke Federigo of happy memory, and I fail not to acknowledge with pleasure your devotion and diligence. In mentioning my house, I approve of your naming it of Montefeltro rather than Feltrian, but as to seeking out its source and foundation, I do not recollect telling you to pass these over in silence. On the contrary, I deem it necessary to discuss this, yet not in the way I saw it treated at Urbino, attributing to it a mere bourgeois and private origin, much humbler than its deserts. It will, therefore, be well to keep this in view, observing in your eulogies, and generally throughout the work, a becoming consideration and regard for it, such as, without further hint, I look for from your sound discretion."—"As to the Life of Duke Federigo, only a few days have passed since I have done looking through it; but we must talk it over together more than once, ere anything can be decided on."[150]

Had Baldi lived among our fathers, he would have dwelt in Grub Street, and become, by his powers of application and memory, a successful book-maker; among ourselves, he would have proved valuable as a penny-per-line scribe. In Italy, his renown was, for a time, more brilliant, but it has now passed into comparative, and not unmerited, neglect. Yet his is a name of which his native city may justly be proud, and may cherish with respectful approbation this epitaph, once proposed for his tomb:—

Among the literary labourers of this age Girolamo Muzio[*151] is entitled to a prominent place, more from the variety and volume of his writings than from their actual worth. The epithet Giustinopolite, usually applied to him, is latinised from Capo d'Istria, the adopted home of his family, who were originally emigrants from Udine, and spelt their name Nuzio. He, however, was born at Padua, in 1496, and, after receiving a good education, finding himself dependent upon his own exertions, was fain to sell his services of sword or pen to the highest bidder. The same rule of self-interest that actuated Italian condottieri was too often followed by literary adventurers in that country, conscience and glory being generally made subservient by both to a livelihood. Girolamo had a double chance, in his twofold capacity of soldier and author, and tells us "that it was ever his fate to earn his bread by serving in the armies and courts of popes, emperors, kings, or petty princes; sometimes with one Italian commander, sometimes with another; now in France, then in Upper, again in Lower Germany." Through these vicissitudes it were needless to follow him. For a time he was rival or successor of Bernardo Tasso in the promiscuous affections of Tullia d'Aragona, a lettered courtezan, and, without her sanction, published, in 1547, her Dialogue on the Infinitude of Love. In the preface he avowed a connection which occasioned him neither compunction nor shame, and which, in days when love was a science as well as a passion, was openly shared by Varchi, Speroni, Strozzi, and Molza. Four years later a dangerous illness taught him reflection on his past ways, and brought him to a devotional frame of mind. It was about the same time that he became an inmate of the court of Urbino, receiving from Duke Guidobaldo the ample pension of 400 scudi, with permission to "attend to his studies, appearing only when he chose." The Duchess Vittoria countenanced him much, and he spent a good deal of time in her society, probably in consequence of his appointment as governor to her eldest son, and of his marrying a lady of her suite. From thence he went to reside at Rome, about 1567, and died in Tuscany, in 1576.

Tiraboschi declines the task of compiling the long catalogue of his various writings, in poetry, sacred and profane history, moral essays, and familiar letters,[*152] nor need we undertake it. A large portion of his works were directed against protestant doctrines, and, having reformed the habits of his somewhat stormy youth, he lent willing and efficient aid in strangling the progress of Calvinism in Italy, after a protracted struggle, upon which the investigations of Dr. M'Crie have thrown much valuable light. Muzio is alleged to have exhibited in this contest more of martial dexterity than theological acumen; but his controversial effusions, being published in Italian, and clothed in a homely slashing style, were probably supposed quite as efficacious against the progress of heretical opinions among his countrymen, as the disquisitions of more profound theologians. It was not, however, for the dogmas of faith alone that Muzio wielded his pen. The soldier of fortune was quite as happy, and more at home, on topics belonging to the chivalry of his profession. His treatises on Duels and the Point of Honour were suited to the spirit of the age, and had in consequence a considerable run of popularity, now of course long ago past. The like fate has befallen his didactic poem on the Art of Poetry, in the literature of his own country. What most concerns us are his Lives of Dukes of Urbino. That of Federigo is dedicated to Guidobaldo II., and the original is deposited in the Vatican Library. Having been compiled with considerable care, it continues our best narrative of his reign, and has been greatly drawn upon by Baldi and Riposati. The edition printed at Venice in 1605 is but an abridgment, containing less than half the original matter. His Life of Francesco Maria I. was left unfinished, and remains unedited in the Vatican.[153]

We shall mention but one more prose writer of Urbino. Federigo Bonaventura was born in 1555, and owed to Cardinal Giulio della Rovere a fashionable education at Rome. On his return home, the marked favour of Francesco Maria II. was attracted by his good sense and winning manners; but finding his courtly accomplishments unequal to the profound pursuits of that young prince, he laboured assiduously to supply his own deficiencies. By close application, his progress in Greek, mathematics, and natural philosophy was amazingly rapid; but these studies were happily blended with the business of life, and, directing his powerful judgment to political affairs, he established his reputation by a work on public polity, which, for the first time in Italy, methodised the principles of government. These talents his sovereign turned to account by sending him on various diplomatic missions. Conforming in many respects to the maxims inculcated by the Cortegiano, he filled in the Duke's court somewhat the same place which Castiglione had done in that of Guidobaldo I., and died in 1602.