CABINET CYCLOPÆDIA. (continued 7)
Reading edition
"When evening comes I return home, and shut myself up in my study. Before I make my appearance in it, I take off my rustic garb, soiled with mud and dirt, and put on a dress adapted for courts or cities. Thus fitly habited I enter the antique resorts of the ancients; where, being kindly received, I feed on that food which alone is mine, and for which I was born. For an interval of four hours I feel no annoyance; I forget every grief, I neither fear poverty nor death, but am totally immersed. As Dante says, 'No one learns a science unless he remembers what he is taught;' so have I noted down that store of knowledge which I have collected from this conversation; and have composed a little work on princely governments, in which I analyse the subject as deeply as I can, discussing what a principality is; how many kinds there are; in what way they are acquired; how kept; how lost: and if any devise of mine ever pleased you, this will not be displeasing. It ought to be acceptable to princes, and chiefly to a new prince, wherefore I address it to Giuliano de' Medici. Filippo Casavecchia has seen it, and can describe the thing to you, and recount the discussions we have had together about it. I am still adding to and polishing it.
"Your excellency desires that I should leave this place to go and enjoy myself with you. I will do so assuredly; but am detained by some affairs, which will keep me here about seven weeks. The only thing that causes me to hesitate is, that the Soderini are in your town; and I should be obliged to see and visit them; and I should be afraid on my return that, instead of alighting at my own door, I should alight at the gates of the prison; because, although our person here (Giuliano de' Medici) has secure foundation, and is fixed, yet he is new and suspicious; and there are not wanting meddling fellows, like Paolo Bertini, who would draw upon others and leave me all the trouble. Preserve me from this fear, and I will certainly come to you.
"I have talked with Philip concerning my little work, whether I shall dedicate it or not; and if I do, whether I shall present it myself, or send it to you. If I do not dedicate it, I fear that Giuliano will not even read it, but that Ardinghelli will get the honour of it. Necessity drives me to present it, for I pine away, and cannot remain long thus without becoming despicable through poverty. I wish these signori Medici would begin to make use of me, even if I commenced by rolling a stone, for if I did not afterwards gain their favour I should despise myself. And, therefore, if this book were read, they would see that, for the fifteen years during which I studied the arts of government, I neither slept nor played; and every one ought to be glad to make use of one who has learned experience at the expense of others. Nor need they doubt my fidelity; for having proved myself trustworthy hitherto, I would not alter now: he who has been faithful for forty-three years, as I have, cannot change his nature; and my poverty is a witness of my honour and disinterestedness.
"I wish you would tell me what you think on these matters, and so farewell.—Si felix.
"NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI.
"10th of December, 1513."
The expressions in this letter appear sufficiently clear, that he wrote "The Prince," for the purpose of recommending himself to the Medici, and of being employed by them. His sons afterwards declared to our countryman, cardinal Pole, that he alleged, his intention to be, to induce the Medici to render themselves so hateful to Florence, by acting on the maxims he laid down, as to cause them to be exiled anew. There is no trace of this idea in his private correspondence. Giuliano de' Medici was an amiable prince, and he often praises him highly. It is true that his work is dedicated to Lorenzo de' Medici; but this change was occasioned by the death of Giuliano. And even of Lorenzo, who was unpopular. Machiavelli writes thus to Vettori:—"I must give you some account of the proceedings of the Magnifico Lorenzo, which have hitherto been such as to fill the city with hope; so that every one begins to see his grandfather revived in him. He is diligent and affable, and causes himself to be loved and respected, rather than feared." Nor can it be believed that Machiavelli was so devoid of understanding, as to fancy that he could dupe men as intelligent as Leo X. and cardinal Julius, who were the heads of the family, by so barefaced an artifice. Besides that, the authority of the Medici was maintained by foreign arms, and the citizens were already very willing to get rid of them, as was proved a very few years after. Yet his real intentions form a question, perhaps, never to be decided. On one hand, the treatise is so broad and unplausible in its recommendations, that it is difficult to suppose him in earnest; and, on the other, it is so dry, and has in so small a degree the air of irony, that it can scarcely be regarded as a satire. If it is, it is ill done, since men have not yet agreed whether it is one or not.
Let us turn to the work itself, however, and present some analysis of a treatise which has been the subject of so much disquisition. Machiavelli, in the letter given above, professes to have written his book for the instruction of new princes,—principi nuovi,—sovereigns lately raised to power. Italy was then divided into small states, governed by a variety of lords. Sometimes one among them endeavoured, like Cæsar Borgia, to conquer a number of these, and to unite them into one state. Machiavelli taught how a prince thus situated might acquire and confirm his power. He adduces the example of the Duke of Valence, saying, "He does not know how to give better precepts to a new sovereign than those afforded by a view of Borgia's conduct."[129] He describes the course of his policy, applauds the perfidy with which he destroyed the confederates of Magione, and holds up the death of Ramiro d' Oreo as a laudable proceeding. He allows, that perseverance in cruelty on the part of a prince becomes unendurable. "And, therefore," he says, "a prince should determine to execute all his acts of blood at once, so that he may not be obliged each day to renew them; but give security to his subjects, and gain them by benefits. Injuries ought to be done at once, because thus they are less felt, and offend less; but benefits ought to be bestowed gradually, that they may produce a profounder impression."
The reader may judge whether this maxim is sagacious, and seriously enjoined; or mischievous, and therefore brought forward with sinister and sarcastic motives.
The first fourteen chapters are taken up by considering the various modes by which a prince acquires power—either by force of arms, or the favour of the citizens; being imposed on them by the aristocracy, or raised by the affection of the people. In the course of these considerations he remarks (chap, V.), that "he who becomes master of a city habituated to freedom, and does not destroy it, must expect to be destroyed by it; because it will, in every rebellion, take refuge in the name of liberty and its ancient rights, the memory of which can never be extinguished by time or benefits." The fifteenth chapter is headed,—"Concerning those things for which men, and principally sovereigns are praised or blamed." He begins by saying,—"It now remains to be seen what government and treatment a prince ought to observe with his subjects and friends. I know many people have written on this topic; and I expect, therefore, to be accused of presumption, in differing from the opinions of others in my view of the subject. But, it being my intention to write what is useful to those who rule, it appears to me better to follow up the truth of things, than to bring forward imaginary ideas." He adds, "A man who, instead of acting for the best, acts as he ought, seeks rather his ruin than his preservation. For he who resolves on all occasions to adhere to what is virtuous, must be destroyed by the many who are not virtuous. Hence it is necessary that a prince, who would maintain his power, should learn not to be virtuous, but to adapt the morality of his actions to the dictates of necessity." He then enumerates the good and bad qualities for which sovereigns are distinguished, and adds:—"I know that every one will confess that it would he laudable for a prince to possess all the above-mentioned qualities, which are considered virtuous; but human nature does not allow of this. It is necessary, however, that he should be prudent, and avoid the infamy of those vices which would deprive him of power; and it would be well if he avoided the others also, if it were possible; but if it be not possible, he may yield to them with less danger. And also he must not hesitate to incur the reputation of those vices, through which his government may be preserved; for, on deep consideration, it will be found that there is a line of conduct which appears right, but which leads to ruin: and there is another which appears vicious, but from which security and prosperity flow."
And this is what is called Machiavelian policy.
He goes on to show, that generosity, which is supported by extortion, must injure a prince more than parsimony, which makes no demands on the subject; he therefore advises a prince to gain a character for liberality, rather by being prodigal of the wealth of others than his own. "For," he says, "nothing consumes itself so much as liberality; for while you use it, you lose your power of so doing, and you become poor and despicable; or, to escape from poverty, grow rapacious and odious. A prince ought carefully to guard against becoming odious and contemptible: and liberality is one of the good qualities most likely to lead to this result, and therefore to be avoided."
He then treats of "Cruelty and clemency, and whether it is better to be feared or loved." He says;—"Every sovereign ought to desire to be esteemed merciful, and not cruel. Nevertheless, he ought to take care to what use he puts his mercy. Cæsar Borgia was considered cruel; nevertheless his cruelty subdued Romagna, and united it, and reduced it to peace and obedience. A prince, therefore, ought not to fear the reputation of cruelty, if by it he preserves his subjects tranquil and faithful. A few examples will be more merciful than tolerating disorders, through a compassion, which gives rise to assassinations and disturbances; for these injure the community, while the execution of offenders is injurious to individuals only." He then enters on a discussion of whether it is better for a prince to be loved or feared. He decides for the latter; for, he says, "Love is a duty, which, as men are wicked, is continually transgressed; but fear arises from the dread of punishment, which is never lost sight of." Nothing can be more false than this. Men like to be benefited even more than they dislike being injured; and love is a more universal passion than terror. He continues, "Still a prince, while he seeks to be feared, must avoid being hated—for fear is very distinct from hatred. And he ought always to avoid seizing on the goods of his subjects. He may, as far as is justified by the cause given, proceed against the life of an individual; but let him not touch the possessions. For men more easily forget the death of a father than the loss of patrimony." After stating this diabolical and false maxim in all its native deformity, he proceeds to consider the propriety of a sovereign's preserving his good faith: remarking, that though good faith and integrity are praiseworthy in a prince, experience in his own time shows those statesmen to have achieved the greatest things, who held truth in small esteem:—"For there are two ways of acting,—one by law and the other by force; the one for men, the other for animals; but when the first does not succeed, it is necessary to have recourse to the second; and a sovereign ought to know how to put the animal man to good use. A prudent prince cannot and ought not to observe faith, when such observance would injure him, or the occasions for which he pledged himself are at an end. A sovereign, therefore, need not possess all the virtues I have mentioned; but it is necessary that he should appear so to do. A prince cannot always practise the qualities which are esteemed good, being often obliged to maintain his power by acting against the dictates of humanity and religion. He must act conscientiously when he can; but when obliged, he ought to be capable of doing ill. A prince ought to take great care not to say a word that is not animated by good feeling, and he ought to appear full of pity, integrity, humanity, and religion; and there is nothing so necessary as that he should appear to attend to the last. Every one sees what you seem; few know what you are." Very false, notwithstanding its plausibility: children even have an instinct for detecting false appearances.
He tells princes to cherish the affections of the people; as, he says, if loved by his subjects, he need fear no conspiracy; but, hated by them, he has every thing to dread. He avers, also, that it is easier for a newly raised prince to make friends of those who opposed him, than to preserve the good will of his own partisans. He goes on to give much advice concerning the choice of ministers and courtiers, and concerning the influence of fortune over states; and shows how concord and constancy are the only modes by which a government can preserve itself during the variations of fortune; and that, above all, it is necessary not to submit timidly, but to command her by audacity and resolution.
He concludes by an exhortation to the Italians to drive the barbarians, French, Spaniards, and Germans, from their country. "It appears to me," he says, "considering all things, that there is an admirable opening for a new prince to introduce another state of things into Italy. Does not the whole land pray God to send her some one to free her from the barbarians? And is she not ready to follow any banner, if some one prince would display it? Nor do we see any house from which she can hope so much as yours (that of Lorenzo de' Medici) favoured as it is by God and the church; being at the head of which, it may lead us to this redemption. The justice of your cause is great, and the war will be just, and necessary, and pious. God, also, has opened the way for you. The Italians, however, must accustom themselves to the exercise of arms, if they would defend their country from foreign invaders. The infantry of other kingdoms have their defects: the Spaniards cannot stand the impetus of cavalry; the Swiss would fear any infantry which should show itself as strong as themselves. Let the Italians, therefore, form an army of foot that shall possess none of these defects, and which shall be able to resist the shock of both horse and foot; and this must be done by a novel style of command, by introducing which, a new ruler will acquire reputation and power. You ought not, therefore, to lose this opportunity of appearing as the deliverer of Italy. I cannot express with what affection such a one would be received in those provinces which have suffered from the inundation of foreign troops; with what thirst of vengeance, what resolute fidelity; with what piety, and what grateful tears he would be followed. What gates would be shut against him? what people would refuse to render him obedience? what Italian would hesitate to submit to his rule? Every one abhors the authority of the barbarians. Let, therefore, your illustrious house assume this enterprise, animated by that hope which a just cause inspires, so that your country may rise triumphant under your auspices."
There is nothing that is not patriotic and praiseworthy in these exhortations; and they were such, moreover, as were likely to gain the hearts of the Italians. If, therefore, he is previously sarcastic, he is serious here; and the mixture renders still more enigmatic the question of the aim he had in view in this work.
Besides "The Prince," Machiavelli wrote, at this time, his "Essays on the first Decade of Livy." These are considered by their author as his best work; an opinion confirmed by the learned Italians of the present day. They breathe a purely republican spirit, and have for their scope to demonstrate how the greatness of Rome resulted from the equal laws of the commonwealth, and the martial character of its citizens. He dedicated them to his friends Zanobi Buondelmonte, and Cosimo Rucellai, who were the patrons of the academy of the Rucellai gardens, a society set on foot by the father of Cosimo, for the support of the Platonic philosophy, and whose youthful followers were all devoted to liberty.
"The Art of War" was also written at this time, as well as his two comedies, his "Belfegor," and "Life of Castruccio Castracani." The "Belfegor" has laid him open to the supposition that he was not happy in his married life: but there is no foundation for this notion. He was, early in life, married to Marietta Corsini, and had five children. He always mentions his wife with affection and respect in his letters, and gives tokens, in his will, of the perfect confidence he reposed in her. "Belfegor" has always been a popular tale: it is written with great spirit, and possesses the merit of novelty and wit. His comedies are thought highly of by the Italians. The "Mandragola," licentious as it is, was a great favourite. Leo X. caused the actors and scenic decorations to be brought from Florence to Rome, that he might see it represented; and Guicciardini invited the author to come to get it up at Modena, and tells him to bring with him a favourite singer and actress, named La Barbara, to give it more effect: so early in Italian history do we find mention of prime donne, and of the court paid to them.
But all this diligent authorship did not satisfy the active mind of Machiavelli: he tried to school himself to content, and says, in one of his letters to Vettori, "I am arrived at not desiring any thing again with passion." But this was a deceit which he practised on himself. "If I saw you," he writes again to his friend, "I should fill your head with castles in the air; because fortune has so arranged, that, not being able to discourse concerning the silk trade, nor the woollen trade, nor of gains nor losses, I must talk of the art of government."—"While I read and re-read your disquisitions on politics, I forget my adversity, and appear to have entered again on those public affairs, in prosecuting which I vainly endured so much fatigue, and spent so much time."
The endeavours of Vettori, who was attached to the Medici, to gain favour for his friend with Leo X., were long ineffectual; and Machiavelli showed symptoms of despair. 1514. Ætat. 45. "It seems," he writes, "that I am to continue in my hole, without finding a man who will remember my services, or believe that I can be good for any thing. It is impossible that I can remain long thus. I pine away; and see that, if God will not be more favourable to me, I shall be obliged to leave my home, and become secretary to some petty officer, if I can do nothing else; or exile myself into some desert to teach children to read. I shall feign that I am dead; and my family will get on much better without me; as I am the cause of expense—being accustomed to spend, and unable to do otherwise. I do not write this to induce you to take trouble for my sake; but to ease my mind, so as not to recur again to so odious a subject."
Yet all his letters are not complaining. The spirit of "Belfegor" and "La Mandragola" animates many of them. "We are now grave," he writes, "and now frivolous; but we ought not to be blamed for this variety, as in it we imitate nature, which is full of change."
1519. Ætat. 50.
The first use to which the Medici put him, was when Leo X. had placed the cardinal Julius over Florence, and washed to remodel the government. He addressed himself to Machiavelli for his advice; and the latter wrote, in reply, his "Essay on the Reform of the Government of Florence, Written at the request of Leo X." Soon after Leo died, and the cardinal Julius expected to have been elected pope. He was disappointed, and returned to Florence to confirm his authority. The death of Leo awakened the hopes of the opposite party; and a conspiracy was at this juncture entered into by the nephew of the gonfaloniere Soderini and the young philosophers of the Rucellai, to expel the Medici. It was discovered; two ringleaders were put to death, and the rest fled.
Sismondi hastily assumes the fact, that Machiavelli was implicated in this plot; but, on the contrary, there seems every proof that he took no part in it whatever; and at this very time he was again employed by the reigning powers. 1521. Ætat. 52. The Minor Friars were assembled in chapter at Carpi, in the duchy of Modena. The government of Florence wished to obtain from them, that their republic should be formed by their order, into a distinct province, separated from the rest of Tuscany. At the instance of cardinal Julius, Machiavelli was charged with this negotiation. A few days after his arrival at Carpi, the council of the company of the woollen trade commissioned him to procure a good preacher for the metropolitan church at Florence, during the ensuing Lent. His letters to his employers, on these occasions, are as serious and methodical as during any other legation; but in his heart he disdained the petty occupation. His friend Francesco Guicciardini, the celebrated historian, was then governor of Modena; and several amusing letters passed between them while Machiavelli was at Carpi. Guicciardini writes: "When I read your titles of ambassador to republics and friars, and consider the number of kings and princes with whom you have formerly negotiated, I am reminded of Lysander, who, after so many victories, had the office of distributing provisions to the army he had formerly commanded; and I say that, though the aspects of men, and the exterior appearances of things, are changed, the same circumstances perpetually return, and we witness no event that did not take place in times gone by."
Machiavelli replies with greater gaiety:—"I can tell you that, on the arrival of your messenger, with a bow to the ground, and a declaration that he was sent express and in haste, every one arose with so many bows and so much clamour, that all things seemed turned topsy-turvy. Many persons asked me the news; and I, to increase my importance, said that the emperor was expected at Trent, that the Swiss were assembling a new diet, and that the king of France was going to have an interview with the king of England; so that all stood open-mouthed and cap in hand to hear me. I am surrounded by a circle now, while writing, who, seeing me occupied upon so long a letter, wonder and regard me as one possessed; and I, to excite their surprise, pause now and then, and look very wise; and they are deceived. If they knew what I was writing, their wonder would in crease. Pray send one of your men again; and let him hurry, and arrive in a heat, so that these people may be more and more astonished; for thus you will do me honour, and the exercise will be good for the horse at this season of the year. I would now write you a longer letter, if I were willing to tire out my imagination; but I wish to preserve it fresh for to-morrow. Remember me, and farewell.
"Your servant,
"NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI,
"Ambassador to the Minor Friars.
"Carpi, 17th of May, 1521."
This letter, as well as well as one of Guicciardini's on this occasion, has been mutilated by a person, whose scrupulous good taste was offended by the tone of some of the pleasantries. That was not the age of decorum either in speech or action. 1524. Ætat. 55. The cardinal Julius had commissioned Machiavelli to write the history of Florence, and he proceeded in it as far as the death of Lorenzo de' Medici. He writes to Guicciardini, on the 30th of August, 1524, "I am staying in the country, occupied in writing my history; and I would give fivepence—I will not say more—to have you here, that I might show you where I am, as in certain particulars I wish to know whether you would be offended most by my elevated or humble manner of treating them. I try, nevertheless, to write so as, by telling the truth, to displease no one."
1526. Ætat. 57.
Cardinal Julius had now become pope, under the title of Clement VII. He paid Machiavelli a regular but very limited salary as historiographer. Having brought it down to the time of the death of Lorenzo de' Medici, he made a volume of it, and dedicated it to the pope. On this occasion he writes to Guicciardini, "I have received a gratification of 100 ducats for my history. I am beginning again; and relieve myself by blaming the princes who have done every thing they can to bring us to this pass." He signs himself to this letter, Niccolò Machiavelli, historian, comic and tragic author,—storico, comico, et tragico.
The condition of Italy was at this period most deplorable. The French had been driven from Italy after the battle of Pavia; but no sooner was that power humbled, than the various states began to regard with alarm the ascendancy of the emperor Charles V. A confederacy was formed by the chief among them, for the purpose of holding this powerful monarch in check; and he sent the constable Bourbon to Milan to preserve that duchy. Thus there were two armies in the heart of the peninsula, both unpaid, both lawless, and destructive to friends as well as to enemies. The emperor sent no supplies to Bourbon; and the pope, who was at the head of the Italian league, showed himself so timid and vaccillating, and, above all, so penurious, as to bring down ruin on his cause.
Bourbon was unable to keep his troops together, except by promises of plunder; and he led them southward by slow advances, with the intention of enriching them by the sack of Florence or Rome. The danger was nearest to the former city; and Clement VII. considered it requisite to put it in a state of defence. Machiavelli was employed to inspect the progress of the fortifications. He executed his task diligently, and, as was his wont, put his whole heart and soul into his occupation. "My head is so full of bulwarks," he says, "that nothing else will enter it."
The imperial army continued to advance; and the Florentine government, in great alarm, sent Machiavelli to Guicciardini, governor of Modena, and lieutenant-general of the papal forces, to take measures with regard to the best method of securing the republic; and it was agreed that, if the imperialists advanced, the forces of the church should be sent in aid of Florence. The winter season and other circumstances delayed the operations of the imperialists, but early in the following spring the danger grew imminent. 1527. Ætat. 58. Bourbon had arrived with his army to the vicinity of Bologna; and there was every likelihood that his army would traverse Tuscany, and attack Florence itself. Machiavelli again went to Parma, to advise with Guicciardini, to watch over the movements of the hostile army, and to send frequent intelligence to Florence of their proceedings. The republic wished that the troops of the Italian league should assemble at Bologna, and be on the spot to guard the frontiers of Tuscany.
The imperialists continued to advance: the pope, alarmed by their progress, entered into a treaty for peace with the emperor; but it was uncertain whether the army under Bourbon would agree to it. Machiavelli continued for some weeks at Parma, and then accompanied Guicciardini to Bologna, watching their movements. It was doubtful what road they would take on proceeding to Rome; but the chances still were, that they would pass through Tuscany. The army now removed to Castel San Giovanni, ten miles from Bologna, where they remained some days, detained by the bad weather, and overflowing of the low lands, caused by the melting of the snow, which had fallen heavily around Bologna: they were in danger, while thus forced to delay, of being reduced to great straits for want of provisions. "If this weather lasts two days longer," Machiavelli wrote to his government, "the duke of Ferrara may, sleeping and sitting, put an end to the war."
A truce was concluded between Clement VII. and the ministers of Charles V.; but it was not acceded to by Bourbon and his army. The pope, however, unaware of this circumstance, dismissed his troops, and remained wholly unguarded. The imperialists, rendered unanimous through the effects of hunger and poverty, continued to advance. They entered Tuscany; but, without staying to attack Florence, they hurried on by forced marches and falling unexpectedly on Rome, took it by assault; and that dreadful sack took place, which filled the city with death and misery, and spread alarm throughout Italy. Machiavelli followed the Italian army, as it advanced to deliver the pope, who was besieged in the Castel Sant' Angelo. From the environs of Rome he repaired to Cività Vecchia, where Andrea Doria commanded a fleet; and from him he obtained the means of repairing by sea to Leghorn. Before embarking, he received intelligence of the revolution of Florence. On hearing of the taking of Rome, on the 6th of May, the republicans rose against the Medici; and they were forced to quit the city. The government was changed on the 16th of May, and things were restored to the state they were in 1512.
Machiavelli returned to Florence full of hope. He considered that the power was now in the hands of his friends, and that he should again enter on public life under prosperous auspices. His hopes were disappointed—public feeling was against him: his previous services, his imprisonment and torture, were forgotten; while it was remembered that, since 1513, he had been continually aiming at getting employed by the Medici, against whom the popular feeling was violently excited. He had succeeded at last; and was actually in their service, when they were driven from the city. These circumstances rendered him displeasing to men who considered themselves the deliverers of their country. Machiavelli was disappointed by their neglect, and deeply wounded by their distrust. He fell ill; and taking some pills, to which he was in the habit of having recourse when indisposed, he grew worse, and died two days after—on the 22d of June, 1527—in the 59th year of his age.
Paul Jovius, his old enemy, insinuates that he took the medicine for the sake of destroying himself,—a most clumsy sort of suicide,—but there is no foundation whatever for this report.[130] His wife Marietta, the daughter of Ludovico Corsini, survived him; and he left five children,—four sons and one daughter. He had made a will in 1511, when secretary of the republic; and in 1522 he made another, which only differs in details—the spirit is the same. He leaves his "beloved wife" an addition to her dower, and divides the rest of his slight fortune between his children. Marietta is left guardian and trustee of the younger children—to continue till they were nineteen—with a clause forbidding them to demand any account of money spent; and mentions that he reposes entire confidence in her.
Machiavelli was of middle stature, rather thin, and of olive complexion. He was gay in conversation, obliging with his friends, and fond of the arts. He had readiness of wit; and it is related of him, that, being reproved for the maxims of his "Prince," he replied—"If I taught princes how to tyrannise, I also taught the people how to destroy them." He probably developes in these words, the secret of his writings. He was willing to teach both parties, but his heart was with the republicans. He was buried at the church of Santa Croce at Florence; and soon after his death a violent sensation was created against his works—principally through an attack on the "Prince," by our own countryman, cardinal Pole. They were interdicted by successive popes, and considered to contain principles subversive of religion and humanity.
It was not till the lapse of more than two centuries that a re-action of feeling took place—and the theory was brought forward, that he wrote for the sake of inducing the Medici to render themselves odious to their countrymen, so as to bring ruin and exile again on their house. In 1782, the Florentines were induced by the representations of an English nobleman, lord Cowper, to pay honour to their countryman, and set on foot a complete edition of his works; which Leopold, grand duke of Tuscany, permitted to be printed; and which was preceded by an eulogium written by Baldelli. In 1787, a monument was erected over his remains, on which was carved the following inscription:—
Tanto Nomini nullum par Elogium NICOLAUS MACHIAVELLI. Obiit Anno A. P. V. MDXXVII.
There remains no descendant of Machiavelli. His grandson, by his only daughter. Giuliano Ricci, left several writings relative to his illustrious ancestor, which are preserved in the archives of the Ricci family. The branch of the Machiavelli, descending from the secretary, terminated in Ippolita Machiavelli, married to Francesco de' Ricci in 1608. The other branch terminated in Francesco Maria, Marchese di Quinto in the Vicentino, who died in Florence, 1726.