Poggio then proceeds, in the character of an honest adviser, to represent to the Marquis, that it is the opinion of the most competent judges of the actions of princes, that the punishment, which he professes to be determined to inflict on his son, is more severe than just. The delinquency of the prince involved no stain upon his honour. On the contrary, it was occasioned by an excess of generous feeling. Why, then, should he be subjected to a penalty befitting a traitorous conspirator, or a fratricide? The Marquis may perhaps imagine that the example of Brutus and that of Manlius Torquatus may be pleaded in defence of his obduracy, but he begs him to remember that those illustrious Romans did not avenge with the fatal axe their own wrongs, but those of the republic. Becoming animated as he proceeds in the discussion of his subject, Poggio, quitting the apologetic style, pronounces an eulogium on the young Gonzaga, who, instead of devoting himself like a Sybarite to the pleasures and the pastimes of a court, had, in pursuit of glory, encountered the perils and the fatigues of war. Then, relating another anecdote of the second of the Roman emperors, who, being consulted by Titus Arrius, as to the punishment which he should inflict on his son, who had been guilty of plotting against his life, had given it as his opinion, that the offender should be banished, rather than put to death, he maintains that the same principle which prompted Augustus to award a mitigated penalty against a young man convicted of so atrocious a crime as meditated parricide, should induce the Marquis to treat with lenity the juvenile indiscretion of his son. Then appealing to the remorse and penitence of the prince, he urges the offended father to receive the returning prodigal with kindness; and, descending from the flights of eloquence to the plain level of prudential consideration, he concludes his letter by admonishing the Marquis, that if he should persevere in his design of disinheriting his eldest born son, that son had proved by his late conduct that he was too high spirited to submit to the threatened indignity, and that, however submissive he might be during his father’s life, the death of the Marquis would be the signal of a civil war, which would lay waste the Mantuan territory, and which would only terminate with the shameful victory of one of his children over the other, or with the ruin of both.
When Poggio had finished the composition of this letter, he in the first instance consigned it to the care of Vittorino da Feltre, a scholar of high reputation, who then held the confidential office of preceptor to the sons of Gonzaga, requesting him to watch for some favourable moment for presenting it to his patron. This very precaution should seem to intimate, that Poggio felt a latent consciousness that the liberty which he was taking in assuming the office of a monitor, might possibly not be very acceptable to the distinguished personage to whom his admonition was addressed. And yet, such was the pride of scholarship in the fifteenth century, that when, at the end of two months, his letter was returned to him by Vittorino, with an intimation that Gonzaga declined receiving it, Poggio addressed a second letter to the unrelenting father, protesting that he had been influenced, in requesting his attention to wholesome lessons of advice, not by any selfish motives, but by his zeal for the welfare of a sovereign prince, from whom he unequivocally declared that he thought himself entitled, in consideration of his good offices, to a return of gratitude rather than of contempt. At the same time he wrote to Vittorino, expostulating with him for the want of zeal, which he had evinced with regard to the commission with which he had entrusted him; and understanding that Carlo Brognolo, an intimate acquaintance of his, resident at the Mantuan court, had endeavoured to induce the Marquis to excuse the liberty which he had taken in writing to him, he wrote to him also, thanking him for his friendly intentions; but at the same time protesting, that he had only addressed the sovereign of Mantua by letter in the manner in which, had an opportunity presented itself, he would have addressed him personally, namely, in a style and tone becoming the citizen of a free state.
There is reason to believe that the displeasure felt by the Mantuan prince against the officious scribe was not deeply rooted or of long duration; for it appears that Gonzaga, having come to Ferrara when the council was assembled in that city in the year 1438, took occasion, in the presence of a numerous audience, to speak of Poggio in terms of respect and praise, for which honour the latter tendered to his Highness, by letter, his grateful thanks.[273]
The literary reputation of Poggio now began to be very extensively diffused, and his writings became an object of frequent inquiry among the learned. Several eminent scholars had been so much gratified by the perusal of some of his letters, which had accidentally fallen into their hands, that they earnestly requested him to publish a collection of them. This request could not but be highly gratifying to his feelings, and he readily took the requisite steps to comply with it. He accordingly desired Niccolo Niccoli, with whom, as being his most intimate friend, he had maintained a constant correspondence, to select from his papers such of his letters as were likely to reflect lustre on his character; and he was engaged in arranging and correcting the materials for a small volume, at the time when the pontifical court was transferred from Florence to Bologna. On resuming his task in the latter city, he found that Niccolo had neglected to transmit to him various letters which he had addressed to him from France and Germany, and which he thought would be peculiarly interesting to the public, as they contained an account of his successful exertions in search of the lost writers of antiquity. Niccolo was not so active as Poggio could have wished in procuring for him these necessary documents. The letters in question were in all probability dispersed in the hands of various persons, and of course he would experience some delay and difficulty in collecting them. In fact they were never recovered by Poggio, who completed from the materials which he had in his own possession a volume[274] of his epistles, which he submitted to the inspection of the public, dedicating it to the Canonico Francesco Marescalco of Ferrara.[275] A copy of this volume is preserved amongst the manuscripts of the Riccardi library in Florence.[276]
The transmission of his letters was one of his last acts of friendship which Poggio requested from Niccolo Niccoli. Soon after the publication of his epistles, he received the melancholy intelligence of the death of this his earliest and steadiest friend. He was acutely sensible of the serious loss which he had sustained by this event, which took place on the 23rd of January, 1437; and in the ardour of his affection, he waited with patience for the publication of some tribute of respect to the memory of the deceased, which he thought might justly be demanded from the multitude of learned men, on whom the numerous favours which they had received from the hands of Niccolo imposed an imperious obligation to celebrate his virtues.[277] In this expectation he was disappointed. The scholars of Florence were, perhaps, of opinion, that panegyrics on the living were more productive of profit than encomiums on the dead. Offended by their tardiness, Poggio resolved, notwithstanding the urgency and variety of his occupations, to rescue the name of his friend from oblivion. He accordingly composed and published a funeral eulogium on Niccolo Niccoli; being determined, as he said in a letter to Feltrino Boiardo, to merit, at least, the praise which is due to the faithful discharge of the offices of friendship.[278]
In his funeral oration on Niccolo, Poggio, adopting the character of the orator appointed to address the public on the occasion of his obsequies, introduced the eulogy of his deceased friend by the following exordium.
“If, citizens of Florence! it had been consistent with the dignity of the Latin muses personally to address you on the present occasion, they would not have delegated this office to another—they would themselves, in the most copious and ornamented language, have celebrated the virtues of their most excellent and praise-worthy child. But since those whose transcendent majesty prevents them from exhibiting themselves to the eyes of the public, commission their representatives to appear on their behalf—though I know that there are many in this assembly, whose learning, whose genius, and whose oratorical abilities are far superior to mine, I have ventured to claim your attention—not with a view of precluding the more enlightened efforts of others; but in hopes that, whilst I thus discharge the imperious duties of friendship, my humble exertions may lead the way to more splendid specimens of eloquence. And should my powers fall far short of the merits of the deceased—should I be unable to pay a tribute of respect in any degree adequate to the services which I have received from him, you will, I trust, pardon me, not merely in consideration of the mediocrity of my talents, but also in consideration of the multitude of the virtues of our departed friend. Abilities far superior to any which I possess are requisite to execute the task of enumerating, in the brief space of time which is usually allotted to these occasions, the numerous excellent qualities of the deceased.—But why do I say deceased? Niccolo undoubtedly lives, and will for ever live. He will be held in everlasting remembrance in the minds of men, and he enjoys that immortality, which alone is deserving of the name of life. We firmly believe, that his pure soul, freed from every corporeal stain, no longer obnoxious to the contagion of sin, has been at once exalted into heaven. For he was a man of the most upright conduct, endued with singular modesty, during every period of his mortal existence. Connecting the study of polite learning with that of the sacred scriptures, he ascended from knowledge to practice, and rendered his literary pursuits subservient to the regulation of his moral conduct. In order that you may become more particularly acquainted with his character, permit me to enter a little at large upon the subject of his studies and learning, his moral qualities, and the uprightness of his conversation. For the contemplation of the example of excellent men is a powerful incitement to an imitation of their virtues.”
Pursuing the method thus pointed out, Poggio proceeded to give an account of the education and early pursuits of his friend, and made honourable mention of the good services which he had rendered to the cause of literature. He next entered into a particular detail of his virtuous dispositions, celebrating, with appropriate praise, his prudence, his benevolence, his fortitude, his contempt of wealth, and the gravity of his manners. At length, mentioning the serenity with which he met his dissolution, he thus concluded. “Oh fatal day! bitter indeed to us; but to him the happy termination of evils. At thy destiny, Niccolo, (for I will once more address our departed friend) at thy destiny I rejoice, for thou inhabitest the abodes of the pious, and art entered into the mansions of eternal rest. It is for myself I grieve—on my own account I lament this fatal day, which has deprived me of thy delightful converse, of thy tender affection, which has robbed me of the fruit of my studies, which has torn from me him whom I regarded as my friend and father, to whom I was accustomed freely to communicate my cares, my thoughts, my every word and deed. Justly is this day to be lamented by me, in which I have lost the consolation of my sorrows, the alleviation of my griefs, and the firmest support of my labours. No longer shall I be permitted to converse with thee, to ask thy advice, to rely upon thy friendly exertions. This consolation I will, however, retain; I will recall the memory of past times, and whilst I imbibe the vital air, I will dwell on thy sweet remembrance, and embrace thee in idea. The image of my friend shall be perpetually present to my eyes; and since alas! he is numbered amongst the silent dead, in the celebration of his virtues I will testify the gratitude which I feel for the numerous acts of kindness which I have experienced from him during his life.”[279]
The generality of scholars are not, perhaps, aware of the debt of gratitude which they owe to Niccolo Niccoli. If, however, they derive pleasure and improvement from the perusal of the classic authors of Greece and Rome, they ought to hold him in respectful remembrance; for to his liberality and to his industry, the recovery and diffusion of many of the writings of the ancients may be justly ascribed. His pecuniary assistance enabled Poggio to support the expenses which he incurred in the course of his researches after neglected manuscripts; his assiduous diligence in transcribing the works of the luminaries of Grecian and Roman literature multiplied the copies of those exemplars of true taste.[280] In the acquisition of books, he set no bounds to his expenses; and the inconsiderateness of the zeal with which he added to the stores of his library sometimes reduced him to the verge of poverty.[281] His researches after the memorials of ancient genius were not confined to manuscripts. Inspired by a love of the arts, he eagerly availed himself of every opportunity which occurred, of purchasing antique statues, coins and gems. So extensive was his collection of these interesting relics of past magnificence, that Poggio asserts in his funeral oration, that it exceeded the aggregate amount of all other collections of the same kind.[282] He did not, like a literary miser, morosely brood over the treasures of his library and his cabinet in unsocial selfishness. His doors were always open to the learned, and to those who entertained a desire to improve their understanding by study. The ingenuous youths who wished to gain access to the fountains of knowledge found in Niccolo a protector and a guide. Extending his patronage of literature beyond the period of his mortal existence, by his last will he bequeathed his library, which consisted of upwards of eight hundred volumes, to the use of the public.[283]