Machiavelli, Volume I | Page 3

His position was miserable. Temporarily crippled by
torture, out of favour with the Government, shunned by his friends, in
deep poverty, burdened with debt and with a wife and four children, his
material circumstances were ill enough. But, worse still, he was idle.
He had deserved well of the Republic, and had never despaired of it,
and this was his reward. He seemed to himself a broken man. He had
no great natural dignity, no great moral strength. He profoundly loved
and admired Dante, but he could not for one moment imitate him. He
sought satisfaction in sensuality of life and writing, but found no
comfort. Great things were stirring in the world and he had neither part
nor lot in them. By great good fortune he began a correspondence with
his friend Francesco Vettori, the Medicean Ambassador at Rome, to

whom he appeals for his good offices: 'And if nothing can be done, I
must live as I came into the world, for I was born poor and learnt to
want before learning to enjoy.' Before long these two diplomats had
co-opted themselves into a kind of Secret Cabinet of Europe. It is a
strange but profoundly interesting correspondence, both politically and
personally. Nothing is too great or too small, too glorious or too mean
for their pens. Amid foolish anecdotes and rather sordid love affairs the
politics of Europe, and especially of Italy, are dissected and discussed.
Leo X. had now plunged into political intrigue. Ferdinand of Spain was
in difficulty. France had allied herself with Venice. The Swiss are the
Ancient Romans, and may conquer Italy. Then back again, or rather
constant throughout, the love intrigues and the 'likely wench hard-by
who may help to pass our time.' But through it all there is an ache at
Machiavelli's heart, and on a sudden he will break down, crying,
Però se aleuna volta io rido e canto Facciol, perchè non ho se non quest'
una Via da sfogare il mio angoscioso pianto.
Vettori promised much, but nothing came of it. By 1515 the
correspondence died away, and the Ex-Secretary found for himself at
last the true pathway through his vale of years.
[Sidenote: The true Life.]
The remainder of Machiavelli's life is bounded by his books. He settled
at his villa at San Casciano, where he spent his day as he describes in
the letter quoted at the beginning of this essay. In 1518 he began to
attend the meetings of the Literary Club in the Orti Oricellarii, and
made new and remarkable friends. 'Era amato grandamente da loro ... e
della sua conversazione si dilettavano maravigliosamente, tenendo in
prezzo grandissimo tutte l'opere sue,' which shows the personal
authority he exercised. Occasionally he was employed by Florentine
merchants to negotiate for them at Venice, Genoa, Lucca, and other
places. In 1519 Cardinal Medici deigned to consult him as to the
Government, and commissioned him to write the History of Florence.
But in the main he wrote his books and lived the daily life we know. In
1525 he went to Rome to present his History to Clement VII., and was
sent on to Guicciardini. In 1526 he was busy once more with military
matters and the fortification of Florence. On the 22nd of June 1527 he
died at Florence immediately after the establishment of the second
Republic. He had lived as a practising Christian, and so died,

surrounded by his wife and family. Wild legends grew about his death,
but have no foundation. A peasant clod in San Casciano could not have
made a simpler end. He was buried in the family Chapel in Santa Croce,
and a monument was there at last erected with the epitaph by Doctor
Ferroni--'Tanto nomini nullum par elogium.' The first edition of his
complete works was published in 1782, and was dedicated to Lord
Cowper.
[Sidenote: His Character.]
What manner of man was Machiavelli at home and in the market-place?
It is hard to say. There are doubtful busts, the best, perhaps, that
engraved in the 'Testina' edition of 1550, so-called on account of the
portrait. 'Of middle height, slender figure, with sparkling eyes, dark
hair, rather a small head, a slightly aquiline nose, a tightly closed
mouth: all about him bore the impress of a very acute observer and
thinker, but not that of one able to wield much influence over others.'
Such is a reconstruction of him by one best able to make one. 'In his
conversation,' says Varchi, 'Machiavelli was pleasant, serviceable to his
friends, a friend of virtuous men, and, in a word, worthy to have
received from Nature either less genius or a better mind.' If not much
above the moral standard of the day he was certainly not below it. His
habits were loose and his language lucid