Beloved Son,—Peace and apostolic blessing. The news we have just received of the death of your son, Giovanni of blessed memory, has grieved us deeply, not only because it is in itself untimely, but also because we fear it is likely to prove hurtful to a man of your age and infirmity. Yours is a life that should be prolonged in the sweetness of the Spirit, and you ought at all times to find comfort. Our own consolation is that you are wise, that you are well versed in the chances of fortune and able to hold your feelings in restraint. We urge you then, Cosimo, to do this, and looking towards God, to bless Him and to trust that all is for the best. We are ignorant of His secrets; He alone knows our needs and our true advantage. Let us then have faith that we and your son have been dealt with in gentleness, for neither you nor he could foresee the future. We look to your lofty nature, my son, to continue bearing God’s will in this with patience, even as we hear you do bear it, without giving way to grief. Mourning accords not with your age; it is contrary to your health, and we ourselves, your native city, and all Italy, require that your life should be as far as possible prolonged. Let good works and acts of piety be your tribute to your son’s memory. Anything else would be inconsistent with your nature; deeds of charity, devotion, and prayer are their own reward. This brief letter is written to acquaint you with our grief, and to assure you of our solicitude. Let these few words be counted for our affection.—Given at S. Peter’s, in Rome, under the ring of the Fisherman, on the 1st day of November 1463, in the 6th year of our pontificate.[75]
Cosimo de’ Medici to Pope Pius II.
Most blessed Father,—The power and wisdom of the words you wrote made me feel, while I read them, that I was veritably listening to the consoling voice of Him whose true Vicar you are. Nothing more sweet, nothing more saintly, or even divine, could have been written. And your consolation had this effect: I have always thought it expedient and praiseworthy to control (for I could not quench) my grief; but now, most blessed Father, to act contrary to your advice would seem to me positively sinful. I therefore strive to the best of my power, and so far as my weak spirit will permit, to bear this great calamity with calmness. To me it appeared a calamity; but God alone knows what is truly a misfortune, and we, as you write so wisely and devoutly, are ignorant of it. Yet I never thought it was not well with my son Giovanni, for I remembered that he had gone forth, not from life, but into life from death. For this, which we call life, is death, and that is the true life which is everlasting. And I recognised that the only suffering his death brought with it was ours, who truly must needs miss him. Yet we know not for what to pray. I trust that God in the abundance of His mercy will pity us that are left behind; for the Lord is gentle and full of mercy. But for my own life, I count it happy, because the Supreme Pontiff, the Vicar of Christ, has been thoughtful on its account. I will indeed take care of it; but not for the reasons which you, in your more than human kindness, have put forward. For what is my power now worth? What worth has it ever had? Nay, my purpose in caring for my life is that I may be found not to have despised this precious gift of God, nor to have forgotten the mercies which I have received from the divine love. I ask of you, most blessed Father, that your Holiness offer a prayer for me, your son, to God, that I may have strength to achieve this.—[1463].[76]
On 3rd November 1463 Pius II. wrote again to Cosimo, to ask him to induce Florence to aid him, by equipping two galleys for his projected crusade against the Turks. Cosimo’s answer is most respectful and very wary.
Cosimo de’ Medici to Pius II.
Cosimo greets the Supreme Pontiff.
Most blessed Father,—I received your Holiness’ letter a few days ago, a letter full of grandeur and dignity, whose wisdom, as no one can doubt, could have proceeded from none but your Holiness. Me, at any rate, it so affected that after reading it several times I became convinced that such speech was beyond the common use of men, and was indeed none other than what might seem to be written at the dictation of that truly divine Spirit which spoke in the saints of old. When you speak of the insecurity of man’s lot, who would not straightway be moved by the power of your eloquence to despise all that is human? And when you solemnly tell of our immortal life to come, can any be so dull and leaden that he would not feel exalted, as he reads, so as to gain a vision, even here, of the glory of his own immortality and be inspired by a wonderful longing to attain it? And your deeds are no less holy than your words. I say nothing of what you have achieved in the past, saintly though it is and worthy of sacred remembrance. But with regard to the enterprise which you are now preparing, is it possible, most blessed Father, to believe that you, who are Christ’s Vicar, are attempting it without the presence within you of Him whose representative you are? The task is one so novel and so marvellous, that without God’s impulse and support to your age and infirmity the undertaking would seem doomed to fail. That I suppose is the reason why some people regard it, as you say in your letter, with amazement and disapproval. But I ask you, most blessed Father, whether it is not indeed a matter for wonder that a man like you, whose years and feeble health make their own claim to a life of ease and repose, should embark on the exertions of travel and all the hardships of war. It is natural, then, that the well-wishers of the Christian Commonwealth, the friends of peace in Italy, and all who desire the true and righteous tranquillity of kingdoms and the permanence of the Christian sway, should behold these difficulties and dangers with dread. They look upon your virtue as a gift clearly sent by God for the healing of human ills; they love the Roman Church and care for the integrity and happiness of Christendom; and they regard your safety as their security for all these. It must needs be that they are alarmed by your undertaking such difficulties and your exposure to such dangers, seeing that they do not possess your wisdom nor are they supported by the divine breath which inspires you. But though they do not see that which is before the eyes of your greater wisdom, perhaps since they wish only for what may be best for you and most beneficial for your flock, they do not deserve so much blame for disapproving an enterprise which to their limited apprehension appears so great and so difficult. You, most blessed Father, whom God will guide to victory even as He has brought you thus far, will persevere in spite of it all. Nor will the faith of Peter whose seat you occupy fail you. The end of this undertaking, which you begin so splendidly, will be to the glory of God and the joy and felicity of all that are yours, even though its initial stage be difficult and laborious. Behold the faithful shepherd offers his life for his sheep.
I now come to the summons which you address to me and the invitation to join you in this beneficent and glorious enterprise. There you write to me not as a private man who is satisfied with the mediocre dignity of a citizen, but as though I were a reigning prince, and your exhortation is so kind that I find myself unable to thank you as I would wish. For though all through my life God’s kindness and bounty has showered upon me much more of human goods than I ever deserved, whereof you most eloquently adduce examples, yet by the grace of Him who is the giver of all that is good, I have never been oblivious of my humble lot. You, however, most blessed Father, in your superhuman kindness write to me in terms of moderation and in the form of a request, whereas it would be your right to urge, nay to command.
But the things you ask of me, most blessed Father, are not of the same nature; as to the first, to procure you a vote of assistance from our city, well you know how limited is the power of a private citizen in a free state under popular government. Nevertheless I am ready to exert my influence, such as it is, in this direction, and will do so to the best of my ability, even as I have done hitherto; I will try to arrange that your interests should be consulted, for your interests are ours and those of the common cause of all Christians. This city of ours has never yet remained behind in any glorious undertaking; but has often by her own choice taken upon herself enormous expenses, difficulties, and dangers, for the defence and dignity of the Roman Pontiff. Therefore I do not believe that she will now hold aloof when you summon her to take part in this enterprise which is pious and necessary and to the common interest of us all.
Personally, from my own resources I can promise you something more definite; that is to say I promise you, not indeed to equip two galleys (which would be an undertaking for a prince not for a private man), but to assist you so far as the limitations of my resources permit. I am not the man to imagine that the gifts of fortune which I possess are the deserved rewards of my business forethought, or of any virtue on my part, or that I have gained them by my human work or my industry, no, I am convinced they are but the gifts of a most bountiful God. If God, who is Himself the giver of all good things, either now or at any other time claims any part of it back, I should deserve to be deemed most ungrateful and impious if I grudged to return what He gave ungrudgingly; but especially now, when such a reward is promised me, which he, who in truth can loose and bind, puts before me.