THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 FROM THE LIBRARY OF 
 FRANK J. KLINGBERG
 
 6 /
 
 A LITERARY SOURCE-BOOK 
 
 OF THE 
 
 RENAISSANCE 
 
 'BY 
 
 MERRICK WHITCOMB, PH. D., 
 Professor of History t University of Cincinnati. 
 
 SECOND EDITION 
 WITH SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 DEPARTMENT OF HISTORY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, PA. 
 
 1903 
 Sold by : Longmans, Green & Co., 91-93 Fifth Avenue, New York.
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1903, 
 BT 
 
 MERRICK WHITCOMB.
 
 PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 THE Renaissance is a period of especial interest for the stu- 
 dent of history. In it are found the beginnings of modern 
 times. A fresh impulse sweeps across the Italian lands and 
 penetrates beyond the Alps to the nations of later development, 
 stirring the Christian world to a recognition of the possibilities 
 of earthly life. 
 
 Studied in the bare inventories of dates and dynasties this 
 period has little meaning. The great achievements of the 
 time are literary; the vanguard of progress won its victories 
 with the pen rather than with the sword. With such condi- 
 tions the study of the Renaissance requires a special apparatus. 
 No mere catalogue of names, even when reinforced with bio- 
 graphical details, is sufficient to afford a lasting impression of 
 the Petrarchs and the Poggios of the age. It is only by imme- 
 diate contact with their utterances that these personalities are 
 made a part of our permanent intellectual capital. 
 
 It is with this purpose in view that the following extracts 
 have been arranged. Their highest utility for the student is to 
 constitute an appendix to the comprehensive and valuable 
 treatises of Symonds and of Burckhardt. The German human- 
 istic period, although possessing an interest peculiarly its own, 
 has not yet been dignified with especial treatment.* It has 
 been thought worth the while, therefore, to preface the German 
 Source-Book with a brief introduction on the general conditions 
 of German intellectual life in the half century preceding the 
 Reformation. 
 
 * Such treatment is at least not available for the English-reading pub- 
 lic. The scholarly work of Ludwig Geiger, Renaissance und ffuman- 
 ismus in Italien und Deutschland, lacks the fluent style that might give 
 it an international acceptance such as has been accorded to the work of 
 Burckhardt 
 
 (iii)
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 PART I. THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 PACK 
 
 1. List of Books on the Italian Renaissance ...... 7 
 
 2. DANTE ALIGHIERI : Extract from De Monarchia . . . n 
 
 3. FRANCESCO PETRARCHA: From Epistolavarice, No. 25. 14 
 
 4. GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO: Introduction to the Decameron; 
 
 Novels II and III 21 
 
 5. FRANCO SACCHETTI: Novels CXIV, CXV, CXXI and 
 
 CCXVI 30 
 
 6. POGGIO BRACCIOLINI : Extracts from the Facelia ; De- 
 
 scription of the Death of Jerome of Prague .... 38 
 
 7. LEON BATTISTA ALBERTI : Extract from // Governo 
 
 della Famiglia 51 
 
 8. AENEAS SYLVIUS: Extract from De Liberorum Edu- 
 
 catione 59 
 
 9. PLATINA : Extracts from the Lives of the Popes ... 66 
 
 10. VESPASIANO DA BISTICCI : Extracts from the Vite . . 73 
 
 11. LORENZO DE' MEDICI : Letter to his son Giovanni . . 82 
 
 12. NICOL& MACHIAVELU : Extracts from the Prince . . 86 
 
 13. BAI.DASSARECASTIGLIONE: Extracts from the Courtier. 93 
 
 14. MATTEO BANDELI.O : Novels VI and XIII 103 
 
 15. BENVENUTO CEUJNI : Extracts from the Autobiog- 
 
 raphy 108 
 
 (v)
 
 vi TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 PART II. THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 1. List of Books on the German Renaissance 128 
 
 2. The Renaissance in Germany 129 
 
 3. RUDOLF AGRICOLA : Letter to Barbirianus 130 
 
 4. JACOB WIMPHELING : Extracts from Isidoneus, Adoles- 
 
 centia and Agatharchia 142 
 
 5. SEBASTIAN BRANT : Extracts from the Narrenschiff . 1 55 
 
 6. MAXIMILIAN I : Extracts from the Weisskunig . . .157 
 
 7. DESIDERIUS ERASMUS : Two Colloquies 163 
 
 8. ULRICH VON HUTTEN : Extract from Inspidentes . . .180 
 
 9. LETTERS OF OBSCURE MEN (Seven letters) 185 
 
 10. JOHANNES BUTZBACH : Extracts from Hodoporicon . .199 
 
 11. THOMAS PLATTER : Extract from the Autobiography. 220
 
 LIST OF BOOKS ON THE IT8LIAN RENJ1SS5NCE. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHIES : 
 
 Schaff, Philip: The Renaissance. Putnam, 1891. $1.50. This little 
 book of 132 pages is now, unfortunately, out of print. It takes up the 
 subject of the Renaissance both in Italy and in Germany. Chapter I. is 
 devoted to the " Literature of the Renaissance " (pp. 3-6). Each of the 
 29 chapters following is prefaced with a special bibliography. Wide 
 margins for additional notation. 
 
 Cambridge Modern History (noted below). Extensive bibliographies, 
 topically arranged, are to be found in Vol. I., The Renaissance, pp. 
 693-79 2 - 
 
 SETS: 
 
 We now possess, in a more or less complete form, three great sets 
 covering extensive periods of European history. These are, in order ofi' 
 publication : 
 
 1. The "Oncken" Series: Allgemeine Geschichte in Einzeldarstel'- 
 lungen. Berlin, 1880, ff. The volume on the Renaissance is by Geiger, 
 Ludwig : Renaissance und Humanismus in Italien und Deutschland. 
 1882. This work is considered an excellent authority. The volume is- 
 richly illustrated with reproductions of contemporary paintings and other' 
 works of art. Part I. deals with Italy. The contents are as follows : 
 Chapters 1-16, Introduction Dante Petrarch Boccaccio Contempo- 
 raries and successors of Petrarch and Boccaccio Cosimo de Medici 
 Founding of the Papal Maecenat Aeneas Sylvius Piccolomini Renais-- 
 sance in the Lesser Italian States Lorenzo de' Medici Urbino Ferrara 
 Naples Venice Leo X. Decline of the Italian Renaissance. Liter-- 
 arv Notes (bibliog.) in Part I., pp. 564-573. 
 
 2. Lavisse et Rambaud : Histoire Gtnlrale. 12 vols. Paris. Colin, 
 1893, ff. Price, unbound, 12 francs per volume. Volumes III. and IV. 
 contain material on the Renaissance. The work is a collaboration. Each- 
 contribution (or chapter) is followed by valuable bibliographical notes. 
 The following chapters are of most importance for our purpose: Vol. III., 
 Formation des grands Hats. Chap. 10, Italy; Republics and Tyrranies, 
 by Pietro Orsi; Chap, n, The Renaissance in Italy, by A. Berthelot 
 (i. General Characteristics 2. Political Conditions; the Maecenats 3^ 
 
 (7)
 
 8 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 Architecture, Sculpture and Painting). Vol. IV., Renaissance et Rtforme. 
 Chap. I, Italy and the Renaissance, by E. Gebhart (i. General Remarks 
 on Italy and the Renaissance 2. The Italian States 3. Manners and 
 Customs); Chap. 2, Wars of Italy, I495-"5C<:, by E. Gebhart; Chap. 3, 
 Wars of Italy, 1515-1559, by H. Gaillard; Chap. 7, Art in Europe, by 
 Michel and Lavoix; Chap. 8, The Sciences in Europe by T. Tannery. 
 
 3. Ward, A. W.. and others, editors : The Cambridge Modem History, 
 Macmillan, 1902, ff. This set is planned to cover in a dozen volumes the 
 period of modern history. Vol I., issued in 1902, is called The Renais- 
 sance, pp 807. $3 75. The work is a collaboration, with 19 contribu- 
 tions (chapters). Extensive, classified bibliographies, a special list for 
 each chapter, are placed together at the end of the volume, pp. 693-792. 
 The work is scholarly, with, perhaps, an over-emphasis on the political 
 side, as compared with the sets above cited. The contents are as fol- 
 lows: Introductory Note (Creighton) Age of Discovery (Payne) The 
 New World (Payne) The Ottoman Conquest (Bury) Italy and her 
 Invaders (Leathes) Florence: Savonarola (Armstrong) Florence: Ma- 
 chiavelli (Burd) Rome and the Temporal Tower (Garnett) Venice 
 (Brown) Germany and the Empire (Tout) Hungary and the Slavonic 
 Kingdoms (Reich) The Catholic Kings (Clarke) -France (Leathes) 
 The Netherlands (Ward) The Early Tudors (Gairdner) Economic 
 Changes (Cunningham) The Classical Renaissance (Jebb) The Chri.- 
 tian Renaissance (James) Catholic Europe (Barry) The Eve of the 
 Reformation (H. C. Lea). 
 
 WORKS ON THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE: 
 
 Sytnonds, John Addington : The Renaissance in Italy. Part T. The 
 Age of the Despots. Holt, Scribner. $2.00. Pp.644. Contents: Chap. I, 
 The Spirit of the Renaissance 2, Italian History (Middle Ages to Renais- 
 sance) 3, The Age of the Despots 4, The Republics (Genoa, Venice, 
 Florence) 5, The Florentine Historians 6, "The Prince" of Machi- 
 avelli 7, The Popes of the Renaissance 8, The Church and Morality 
 9, Savonarola 10, Charles VIII. Appendices; no bibliography; meagre 
 references to sources. Part II. The Revival of Learning. Pp. 546. 
 Holt, Scribner. $2.00. Contents: Chap, i, The Men of the Renaissance 
 2, First Period of Humanism 3, First Period of Humanism (com.) 
 4, Second Period of Humanis-m 5, Second Period of Humanism (cont.) 
 6, Third Period of Humanism 7, Fourth Period of Humanism. Sytn- 
 onds' style is much appreciated, and his volumes have had more to do 
 with creating interest in the subject of the Renaissance than any other 
 work. Part II. is a very good class-book, on account of its systematic 
 chronological arrangement. 
 
 Sytnonds, J. A.: A Short History of the Renaissance, prepared from 
 the volumes of Symouds by A. Pearson. Holt. $1.75. Not important.
 
 LIST OP BOOKS. 9 
 
 Burckhardt, Jacob: The Civilization of the Renaissance in Italy. 
 Mactuillan. $4.00. Pp. 559. Contents : Part I., The State as a Work 
 of Art (Despots, Republics, Papacy, Foreign Policy of the Italian States) 
 II., The Development of the Individual (Modern Idea of Fame, Mod- 
 ern Wit and Satire) III., The Revival of Antiquity (Rome. Old Authors, 
 Universities and Schools, Reproduction of Antiquity, General Latiniza- 
 tion of Culture) IV., The Discovery of the World and Man (Travels, 
 Natural Science, Natural Beauty, Discovery of Man, Biography, Life in 
 Movement) V., Society and Festivals (Social Classes, Refinement of 
 Life, Higher Form of Society, Position of Women, Domestic Economy) 
 VI., Morality and Religion (Moralitv, Religion in Daily Life, Religion 
 and the Spirit of the Renaissance, General Disintegration of Belief). 
 This work, translated from the German of Burckhardt. for many years 
 professor in the University of Basel, is of the highest value and interest. 
 Topical in its arrangement, it admirably supplements the chronological 
 relation of Sym nds. 
 
 Van Dyke, Paul : The j4ge of the Renascence. Pp. 397. Scribner. 
 $2 oo (one of the "Ten Epochs of Church History " Series). Contents: 
 Period I., From the Return from Avignon to the Accession of Nicholas 
 V., 1377-1447 II., From the Accession of the First Humanist Pope to 
 the French Invasion of Italy, 1447-149411! , From the French Invasion 
 to the Sack of Rome, 1494-1527. Appendices; List of Popes and An- 
 tiquities; List of Humanists Mentioned. Interesting and scholarly nar- 
 tative. The Renaissance and the Reformation are treated together and 
 inextricably interwoven. 
 
 Villari, Pasquale: The Life and Times of Niccofo Machiavelli. One 
 volume edition. Fisher Unwin, London, 1898. Illustrated. Contents 
 (chapters of general interest are mentioned): Part I., pp. 1-511; Intro- 
 duction, pp. 1-203 (this is one of the best general presentations of the 
 subject of the Italian Renaissance that has been written) i, The Renais- 
 sance 2, Principal Italian States 3, Literature 4, Political Condition 
 of Italy at the end of the Fifteenth Century 9, The Fine Arts. Part II., 
 pp. 1-547. Chapter? 2 and 5, "The Prince " 6, Leo X., His Court and 
 Policy. The work of Villari is of the first quality, and excels in form 
 and clearness. 
 
 Voigt, Georg: Die Wiederlebung des classischen Allerlhmtis. 2 vols. 
 Berlin, 1893, pp 591:543. 20 marks, unbound. Contents: Introduction 
 (Dante and the Forerunners of the Renaissance) Book I , Petrarch II., 
 Boccaccio; The Greek Teachers; Discovery of the Cl issical MSS. III., 
 First Medicean Period; Humanism in the Italian Republics IV., Hu- 
 manism in the Italian Courts V., Humanism in the Papal Curia; Age of 
 Nicholas V. VI., Propaganda of Humanism Beyond the Alps VII., 
 Tendencies and Contributions of the Humanists.
 
 10 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 BOOKS ON SPECIAL TOPICS: 
 
 On the Papacy during the Renaissance we have: 
 
 Creighton, Mandell: A History of the Papacy from the Great Schism 
 to the Sack of Rome (new edition, 1897, of the "History of the Papacy 
 during the Reformation "). 6 vola. Longmans. Each $2.00. An in- 
 teresting narrative, by one of the most admired historians of the later 
 nineteenth century. 
 
 Pastor, Ludwig : The History of the Popes from the Close of the Middle 
 Ages. Translated from the German by F. J. Antrobus. 6 vols. Herder,. 
 St. Louis, 1898. Each $3.00. This work, a monument of scholarship,, 
 covers the history of the Papacy from the beginning of the Avignon exile,, 
 1303, to the end of the pontificate of Julius II., 1513. Extensive bibli- 
 ography. 
 
 Gregorovius, Ferdinand : History of the City of Rome. Translated 
 by Annie Hamilton. London, Geo. Bell. 45. 6d. net per volume. Of 
 this scholarly work Vols. VI. -VIII. (each volume is printed in two parts) 
 fall within our period. Vol. VI., 1305-1420; Vol. VII., 1421-1503; Vol. 
 VIII., History of Rome in the Sixteenth Century. 
 
 Rashdall, H : The Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages. 2 vols. 
 (in three parts). Clarendon Press, 1895. $14.00 net. There is much in 
 this standard work that has a bearing upon the Renaissance. Note Vol. 
 II., Part II , Chapter VI., The Italian Universities; Chapter XIV., Stu- 
 dent Life in the Middle Ages. 
 
 PICTURES : 
 
 Some knowledge of the art of the Renaissance may be obtained by 
 means of the many reproductions of paintings and other works of art,, 
 which are, fortunately, to be obtained at a trifling expense. The " Perry 
 Pictures" (Maiden, Mass.) are sold at one cent each; the "Cosmos Pic- 
 tures" (296 Broadway, N. Y.) at ten for twenty-five cents, or fifty for one 
 dollar. The Soule Photographic Reproductions are from $1.50 per dozen 
 up. A good series for guides in the selection oi pictures will be found in 
 the " College Histories of Art," Longmans, 1899. They are: History of 
 Painting, by John C. Vandyke; History of Architecture, by Alfred D. F. 
 Hamlin, and History of Sculpture, by Allen Marquand. 
 
 It is important that the student should be familiar with the political 
 divisions of Italy in the time of the Renaissance, and with the location 
 of the chief Italian cities. Any good historical atlas will afford this in- 
 formation. A new Atlas of European History, by Prof. Earl W. Dow* 
 is announced by Holt, New York.
 
 DANTE ALIGHIERI. II 
 
 DANTE ALIGHIERI. 
 
 Born at Florence, 1265. Took part in the political struggles of the 
 time, and fought at the battle of Campaldino, 1289. Held office of prior 
 in 1300, and as a result of factional strife was banished from Florence 
 two years later. Some portion of the period of his exile he passed at the 
 court of the lords of Verona. In 1310 attached himself to the cause of 
 the Emperor, Henry VII. Died at Ravenna in 1321. The principal 
 works of Dante are the Vita Nuova, the Convito, De Monarchist, a treat- 
 ise De Vulgari Eloquio, and the Divina Commedia. 
 
 EXTRACT FROM DK MONARCHIA.* 
 
 Dante refutes arguments which shive to prove that the Imperial power 
 is subject to the Papal power. Book III., Sec. iv. 
 
 Those men to whom all our subsequent reasoning is ad- 
 dressed, when they assert that the authority of the Empire de- 
 pends on the authority of the Church, as the inferior workman 
 depends upon the architect, are moved to take this view by 
 many arguments, some of which they draw from Holy Script- 
 ure, and some also from the acts of the Supreme Pontiff and of 
 the Emperor himself. Moreover, they strive to have some 
 proof of reason. 
 
 In the first place they say that God, according to the book 
 of Genesis, made two great lights, the greater light to rule the 
 day, and the lesser light to rule the night; this they understand 
 to be an allegory, for that the lights are the two powers, the 
 spiritual and the temporal. And then they maintain that as 
 the moon, which is the lesser light, only has light so far as she 
 receives it from the sun, so the temporal power only has author- 
 ity as it receives authority from the spiritual power. 
 
 Having thus first noted these things, I will proceed, as I said 
 above, to destroy the argument of those who say that the two 
 great lights are typical of the two great powers on earth; for 
 on this type rests the whole strength of their argument. It 
 can be shown in two ways that this interpretation cannot be 
 upheld. First, seeing that these two kinds of power are, in a 
 sense, accidents of men, God would thus appear to have used 
 
 * Translated by F. C. Church, in Dante, an Essay, by R. W. Church, 
 M. A., D. C. L., London, 1878.
 
 12 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 a perverted order, by producing the accidents before the es- 
 sence to which they belong existed; and it is ridiculous to say 
 this of God. For the txvo lights were created on the fourth 
 day, vvhi'e man was not created till the sixth day, as is evident 
 in the text of Scriptire. 
 
 Secondly, seeing that these two kinds of rule are to guide 
 men to certain ends, as we shall see, it follows that if man had 
 remained in the state of inncc.Mice in which God created him, 
 he would not have needed such means of gu dance. These 
 kinds of rule, then, are remedies against the weakness of sin. 
 Since, th^n, man was not a sinner on the fourth day, for he did 
 not then even exist, it would have been idle to make remedies 
 for his sin, and this wou'd be contrary to the goodness of God. 
 For he would be a sorry physician who would make a plaster 
 for an abscess which was to be, before the man was horn. It 
 cannot, therefore, be said that God made these two kinds of 
 rule on the fourth day, and therefore the meaning of Moses 
 cannot have been what th se men pretend. 
 
 We may also be more tolerant, and overthrow this falsehood 
 by drawing a distinction. This way of distinction is a gentler 
 way of treating an adversary, for so his arguments are not 
 made to appear consciously false, as is the case when we utterly 
 overthrow him. I say then that, although the moon has not 
 light of its own abundantly, unless it receives it from the sun, 
 yet it does not therefore follow that the moon is from the sun. 
 Therefore be it known that the being, and the power, and the 
 working of the moon are all different things. For its being, 
 the moon in no way depends on the sun, nor for its power, nor 
 for its working, cons dered in itse f. Its motion comes from its 
 proper mover, its influence is from its own rays. For it has a 
 certain light of its own, which is manifest at the time of an 
 eclipse; though for its better and more pow rful workirg it re- 
 ceives from the sun an abundant light, which enables it to work 
 more powerfully. 
 
 X. Cert, in persons say further that the Emperor Constan- 
 tine, having been cleansed from leprosy by the intercession of 
 Sylvester, then the Supreme Pontiff, ga\e ui.to the church the
 
 DANTE AUGHIERI. 1 5 
 
 seat of Empire, which was Rome, together with many other 
 dignities belonging to the Empire. Hence they argue that no 
 man can take unto himself these dignities unless he receive 
 them from the Church, whose they are said to be. From this 
 it would rightly follow that one authority depends on the 
 other, as they maintain. 
 
 The arguments which seem to have their roots in the Divine 
 words, have been stated and disproved. It remains to state 
 and disprove those which are grounded on Roman history and 
 in the reason of mankind. The first of these is the one which 
 we have mentioned, in which the Syllogism runs as follows: 
 No one has a right to those things which belong to the Church, 
 unless he has them from the Church; and this we grant. The 
 government of Rome belongs to the Church; therefore, no one 
 has a right to it, unless it be given him by the Church. The 
 minor premiss is proved by the facts concerning Constantine, 
 which we have touched upon. 
 
 This minor premiss then will I destroy; and as for their 
 proof, I say that it proves nothing. For the dignity of the 
 Empire was what Constantine could not alienate, nor the 
 Church receive. And, when they insist, I prove my words 
 as follows: No man, on the strength of the office which is com- 
 mitted to him, may do aught that is contrary to that office; for 
 so one and the same man, viewed as one man, would be con- 
 trary to himself, which is impossible. But to divide the 
 Empire is contrary to the office committed to the Emperor; for 
 his office is to hold mankind in all things subject to one will; 
 as may be easily seen from the fir.-t book of this treatise. 
 Therefore, it is not permitted to the Emperor to divide the 
 Empire. If, therefore, as they say, any dignities had been 
 alienated by Constantine, and had passed to the Church, the 
 "coat without seam," which, even they, who pierced Christ, 
 the true God, with a spear, dared not rend, would have been 
 rent.
 
 14 SOURCE-BOOK OP THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 FRANCESCO PETRARCA. 
 
 Born at Arezzo, 1304, during the exile of his family from Florence. 
 Removed, 1313, to Avignon. Studied law at Montpellier, and later at 
 Bologna, 1323. Returned to Avignon, 1326, and attached himself to the 
 household of a member of the family of Colonna. Settled at Vaucluse 
 in 1337, and in 1341 received the poet's crown at Rome. Petrarch's 
 friendship with Boccaccio dates from their meeting at Florence in 1350. 
 Made extensive journeys in Central Europe, and was a welcome guest in 
 the courts of Italian princes. In 1369 retired to Arqu&, not far from 
 Padua, where he died in 1374. Petrarch's chief literary works are Poems, 
 both in Latin and Italian, and Letters. 
 
 EXTRACT FROM THE EPISTOL^ VARI^, NO. 25.* 
 
 Your letters are always more than welcome, especially when 
 I have need of consolation, a need that I often experience amid 
 the weariness of life. In the first place I cannot pass over in 
 silence a certain ambiguous statement of yours, that you are 
 well aware, from the direction my affairs are taking, that I am 
 likely to make a permanent stay at Milan. You conceal your 
 own feelings in the matter by ascribing your silence to the fact 
 that you have not the hardihood to protest against my resolu- 
 tion. In this manner, by saying nothing, you say more than 
 if you had said much. Surely, silence often plays a great part 
 among the artifices of eloquence. I see in this economy of 
 words your oft expressed solicitude and forethought, and not 
 yours alone, but that of others. For almost all my friends, 
 except those who are here and who dread the idea of my de- 
 parture as a calamity all my friends, I say, prefer that I 
 should be elsewhere. There seems to be a harmony of opinion 
 in this matter. But whither go? Upon this point exists a 
 wide divergence of opinion. Some summon me to Padua, 
 others beyond the Alps, still others to my native country. 
 These appeals would be most opportune, if the affair did not 
 present a difficulty that borders upon the impossible. Still 
 others will invite me elsewhere; each, according to his desire, 
 will offer me this or that place of residence. In all this I am 
 less astonished at the variety of their opinions than at the unan- 
 
 * Fracassetti, J. : Epistolae de rebus familiaribus et variae. Florence, 
 1863. Vol. 3, pp. 364-371-
 
 FRANCESCO PETRARCA. 15 
 
 imity which exists in their sentiments of tenderness and affec- 
 tion. When I examine thoughtfully the causes of this variety, 
 I confess the variety itself pleases me, and I am proud of being 
 so dear to my friends, that their friendship for me blunts the 
 edge and dims the clearness of their judgment. 
 
 If you should ask me, in the midst of these opinions of my 
 friends, what I myself think of the matter, I can only reply 
 that I long for a place where solitude, leisure, repose and 
 silence reign, however far from wealth and honors, power and 
 favors. But I confess, I know not where to find it. My own 
 secluded nook, where I have hoped not alone to live, but even 
 to die, has lost all the advantages it once possessed, even that 
 of safety. I call to witness thirty or more volumes, which I 
 left there recently, thinking that no place could be more secure, 
 and which, a little later, having escaped from the hands of 
 robbers and returned, against all hope, to their master, seem 
 yet to blanch and tremble and show upon their foreheads the 
 troubled condition of the place whence they have escaped. 
 Therefore I have lost all hope of revisiting this charming re- 
 treat, this longed-for country spot. Still, if the expectation 
 were offered me, I should seize it with both hands and hold it 
 fast. I do not know whether I still possess a glimmer of hope, 
 or am feigning it for self-deception, and to feed my soul's de- 
 sire with empty expectation. My conversations with my 
 friends, by day and night, in which I speak of almost nothing 
 else, and the sighs which I have mingled in a recent letter to 
 the bishop of the neighborhood, prove that I have not yet 
 wholly turned my hopes aside. Truly it is strange, and I 
 could not tell the reason for it, but here is what I think: our 
 labors, even though announced by fame, can be brought to 
 completion in that place alone where they have been under- 
 taken, as though the place were destined by fate for both the 
 beginning and the end. However much, moreover, I desire to 
 determine the place and the manner of my living, according as 
 my fortunes vary, I find myself confirmed in my indecision by 
 several persons, particularly by you and still oftener by myself. 
 In this, believe me, it is more difficult to arrange the things 
 themselves than to quibble over words, because to provide for
 
 16 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 the future is not only difficult, but uncertain; so that, although 
 the result may be fortunate, the choice cannot be other than a 
 matter of chance. What would you choose at a moment when 
 your most established resolutions were baffled by a turn of the 
 wheel of fortune ? There is but one choice that never fails 
 to live, in whatever spot necessity or desire has placed us, with 
 a contentment that has its origin in ourselves and not in our 
 fortunes, knowing well that our most extensive plans will have 
 only a brief duration. 
 
 But I proceed, recollecting that we had much conversation 
 on this point last year, when we lived together in the same 
 house, in this very city; and that after having examined the 
 matter most carefully, in so far as our light permitted, we came 
 to the conclusion that while the affairs of Italy and of Europe 
 remained in this condition, there was no place safer and better 
 for my needs than Milan, nor any place that suited me so well. 
 We made exception o^y of the city of Padua, whither I went 
 shortly after, and whither I shall soon return; not that I may 
 obliterate or diminish that I should not wish but that I may 
 soften the regret which my absence causes the citizens of both 
 places. I know not whether you have changed your opinion 
 since that time; but for me I am convinced that to exchange 
 the tumult of this great city and its annoyances for the annoy- 
 ances of another city would bring me no advantage, perhaps 
 some inconvenience, and beyond a doubt, much fatigue. Ah, 
 if this tranquil solitude, which, in spite of all my seeking, I 
 never find, as I have told you, should ever show itself on any 
 side, you will hear, not that I have gone, but that I have flown 
 to it If I have dwelt at such length upon so trivial a thing, it 
 is because I wish to satisfy you, you and my friends, in the 
 matter of my affairs, of which this is the chief. This desire has 
 been awakened in me by the numerous letters of my friends. 
 Since it is impossible to reply to each one of them, and the 
 greater part of them are of the same counsel, I have conceived 
 the idea of replying to them all at once and of devoting an 
 entire volume to a discourse upon the manner of my life. 
 Alas ! I comprehend now that living is a serious matter. 
 
 In the following paragraph of your letter you jest with much
 
 FRANCESCO PETRARCA. If 
 
 elegance, saying that I have been wounded by Cicero without 
 having deserved it, on account of our too great intimacy.* 
 "Because," you say, " those who are nearest to us most often 
 injure us, and it is extremely rare that an Indian does an injury 
 to a Spaniard." True it is. It is on this account that in read- 
 ing of the wars of the Athenians and Lacedaemonians, and in 
 contemplating the troubles of our own people with our neigh- 
 bors, we are never struck with astonishment; still less so at 
 the sight of the civil wars and domestic troubles which habitude 
 has made of so little account, that concord itself would more 
 easily cause surprise. But when we read that the King of 
 Scythia has come to blows with the King of Egypt, and that 
 Alexander of Macedonia had penetrated to the ends of India, 
 we experience a sensation of astonishment which the reading 
 of our histories, filled as they are with the deeds of Roman 
 bravery in their distant expeditions, does not afford. You 
 bring me consolation, in representing me as having been 
 wounded by Cicero, to whom I am fondly attached, a thing 
 that would probably never happen to me, either at the hands 
 of Hippocrates or Albumazar. 
 
 But laying aside pleasantry, in order to acquaint you with 
 the truth, this Ciceronian wound, at which at first I laughed, 
 has converted my mirth into tears. For almost a year it was 
 daily growing worse, so that between weariness and suffering, 
 between physicians and remedies, I fell into despair. Finally, 
 not only overwhelmed with disgust, but weary of life, I re- 
 solved to await, without physicians, the end, whatever it might 
 be, and to trust myself to God and to Nature rather than to 
 those peddlers of ointments, who, in attending my case, have 
 taken the opportunity of making some experiments along the 
 line of their profession. 
 
 And so it happened. The physicians excluded, thanks to 
 the assistance of the heavenly Physician; thanks to the atten- 
 tions of a young man who waits upon me, and who, in dressing 
 my wound, has become a physician at my expense, so to speak; 
 
 * Petrarch had been slightly injured by the fall of a heavy volume of 
 Cicero's Letters.
 
 1 8 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 thanks also to the use of certain remedies, which I determined 
 by observation were most helpful to me, and to that abstinence 
 which assists Nature, I have returned little by little to that 
 state of health from which I was so far removed. This is the 
 whole story. I might add, that although this life is a vale of 
 sorrows, in which I have often met with strange accidents (not 
 strange in themselves, but strange for me, of all men the fond- 
 est of repose and the most determined enemy of such tribula- 
 tions), yet up to this time I have never experienced anything of 
 the kind, if you consider the cause of the trouble, the suffering 
 it entailed and the length of its duration. My beloved Cicero has 
 imprinted in my memory an indelible mark, an eternal stigma. 
 I should have remembered him, but he has brought it about, 
 both internally and externally, that I am positively unable ever 
 to forget him. Once more, alas ! I have come to know that life 
 is a severe affliction. 
 
 Leaving other things aside, I now come to the occurrence 
 which has covered me with honor and with joy. When I 
 learned that a number of distinguished personages, who cer- 
 tainly were not the least of the princes of Italy, finding them- 
 selves at the end of the world, by night, in winter, during a 
 tempest, in time of war, reduced to extremities, were received 
 in my name within the walls of a city and treated with distinc- 
 tion, I was astonished at first, and thought it must be an error 
 in names. Later I recalled with some difficulty the time when, 
 in my youth, I followed into that country him, who, by the 
 token of his calm brow, might have led me beyond the Indies. 
 Thirty summers have rolled by since that time, and ten since 
 the death of this grand man, unripe in years, but ripe in 
 virtues. Pursuing this train of recollection I have finally been 
 able to conjecture who it might be that after so long a time still 
 retained a memory of me, whom I, it must be confessed, had 
 almost completely forgotten. I addressed to him by letter, as 
 you have seen, the thanks which he deserved, for in no way 
 could he place me under greater obligation, than by his honor- 
 able reception of such great personages, and he will be not the 
 less surprised at my remembrance of him, if he does not dream
 
 FRANCESCO PETRARCA. 19 
 
 that he has refreshed my memory with a recent deed of kind- 
 ness.* 
 
 You ask me finally to lend you the copy of Homer that was 
 on sale at Padua, if, as you suppose, I have purchased it; since, 
 you say, I have for a long time possessed another copy; so that 
 our friend Leo f may translate it from Greek into Latin for your 
 benefit and for the benefit of our other studious compatriots. I 
 saw this book, but neglected the opportunity of acquiring it, 
 because it seemed inferior to my own. It can easily be had 
 with the aid of the person to whom I owe my friendship with 
 Leo; a letter from that source would be all-powerful in the 
 matter, and I will myself write him. 
 
 If by chance the book escape us, which seems to be very 
 unlikely, I will let you have mine. I have been always fond 
 of this particular translation and of Greek literature in general, 
 and if fortune had not frowned upon my beginnings, in the sad 
 death of my excellent master, I should be perhaps to-day some- 
 thing more than a Greek still at his alphabet. I approve with 
 all my heart and strength your enterprise, for I regret and am 
 indignant that an ancient translation, presumably the work of 
 Cicero, the commencement of which Horace inserted in his Ars 
 Poetica, should have been lost to the Latin world, together with 
 many other works. It angers me to see so much solicitude 
 for the bad and so much neglect of the good. But what is 
 to be done ? We must be resigned. If the zeal of strangers 
 shall come to rouse us from our lethargy, then may the 
 Muses and our Apollo help it on ! The Chinese, the Arabs 
 and the Red Sea offer in my eyes no more valuable mer- 
 chandise (merx). I arn not unaware of what I say. I know 
 that this nominative (merx) is not used to-day by our gram- 
 marians; but it was used by the ancients, possibly not by the 
 very earliest, whose style the ignorance of our times blushes to 
 imitate; but by those nearest to us and the first in science and 
 ability, whom blind and loquacious pride has not yet dared to 
 set aside. In their writings, and notably in Horace, I remem- 
 
 * It is unknown to what occasion Petrarch here refers, 
 f Leo Pilatus.
 
 20 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 ber that the nominative of which I speak is often found. L,et 
 us put it again into use, I beg of you, if we may; for I do not 
 know why we should not dare to recall from unmerited exile 
 this word banished from the L,atin country, and introduce it 
 into the tongue to which we are devoting all our time. 
 
 I wish to take this opportunity of warning you of one thing, 
 lest later on I should regret having passed it over in silence. 
 If, as you say, the translation is to be made literally i u prose, 
 listen for a moment to the opinion of St. Jerome as expressed 
 in his preface to the book, De Temporibus, by Eusebius of 
 Caesarea, which he translated into Latin. Here are the very 
 words of this great man, well acquainted with these two lan- 
 guages, and indeed with many others, and of especial fame for 
 his art of translating: If any one, he says, refuses to believe that 
 translation lessens the peculiar charm of the original, let him ren- 
 der Homer into Latin, word for word ; I will say further, let him 
 translate it into prose in his own tongue, and he will see a ridicu- 
 lous array and the most eloquent of poets transformed into a stam- 
 merer. I tell you this for your own good, while it is yet time, 
 in order that so important a work may not prove useless. As 
 for me, I wish the work to be done, whether well or ill. I am 
 so famished for literature that just as he who is ravenously 
 hungry is not inclined to quarrel with the cook's art, so I await 
 with a lively impatience whatever dishes are to be set before 
 my soul. And in truth, the morsel in which the same I<eo, 
 translating into Latin prose the beginning of Homer, has given 
 me a foretaste of the whole work, although it confirms the sen- 
 timent of St. Jerome, does not displease me. It possesses, in 
 fact, a secret charm, as certain viands, which have failed to 
 take a moulded shape, although they are lacking in form, pre- 
 serve nevertheless their taste and odor. Ma}' he continue with 
 the aid of Heaven, and may he give us Homer, who has been 
 lost to us! 
 
 In asking of me the volume of Plato which I have with me, 
 and which escaped the fire at my trans- Alpine country house, 
 you give me proof of your ardor, and I shall hold this book at 
 3 r our disposal, whenever the time shall come. I wish to aid 
 with all my power such noble enterprises. But beware lest it
 
 GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO. 21 
 
 should be unbecoming to unite in one bundle these two great 
 princes of Greece, lest the weight of these two spirits should 
 overwhelm mortal shoulders. Let your messenger undertake, 
 with God's aid, one of the two, and first him who has written 
 many centuries before the other. Farewell. 
 (Milan, Aug. 18, 1360.) 
 
 GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO, 
 
 Born in 1313, place of birth unknown; by some thought to be Paris, by 
 others Certaldo. Was apprenticed for six years to a merchant, and for 
 six years attempted the study of canon law. 1333 went to Naples on 
 mercantile business, attached himself to the court of Robert of Anjou, 
 and devoted himself to literary pursuits. Neapolitan period, 1333-1350 
 (except 1341-1344 spent at Florence); a period of romantic and poetical 
 production: Filocopo, Teseide, Ameto, L' amoroso, Visione, Fiametta and 
 Filostrato. 1350 entered the diplomatic service of the republic ; met 
 Petrarch, 1350; became interested in the discovery and preservation of 
 classical manuscripts. Decameron published 1353. I 3^3~ 1 373, Period of 
 production of Latin works relating to the study of classics: De Genealogia 
 Deorum libri XV; De Montium, Silvarum, Lacuum, et Marium nom- 
 inibus liber; Dr. Casibus Virorum et Feminarum Illustrium libri IX; 
 and De Claris Mulieribus. Also other lesser works and Rime in the 
 vernacular. Occupied the chair for the interpretation of the Divine 
 Comedy at Florence, 1373. Died at Certaldo, 1375. 
 
 FROM THE INTRODUCTION TO THE DECAMERON.* 
 
 In the year then of our Lord 1348, there happened at Flor- 
 ence, the finest city in all Italy, a most terrible plague; which, 
 whether owing to the influence of the planets, or that it was 
 sent from God as a just punishment for our sins, had broken 
 out some years before in the Levant, and after passing from 
 place to place, and making incredible havoc all the way, had 
 now reached the west. There, spite of all the means that art 
 and human foresight could suggest, such as keeping the city 
 clear from filth, the exclusion of all suspected persons, and the 
 publication of copious instructions for the preservation of 
 health ; and notwithstanding manifold humble supplications 
 offered to God in processions and otherwise; it began to show 
 itself in the spring of the aforesaid year, in a sad and wonder- 
 
 * From Kelly's translation in the Bohn edition.
 
 22 SOURCB-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 ful manner. Unlike what had been seen in the east, where 
 bleeding from the nose is the fatal prognostic, here there ap- 
 peared certain tumours in the groin or under the arm-pits, some 
 as big as a small apple, others as an egg; and afterwards purple 
 spots in most parts of the body; in some cases large and but 
 few in number, in others smaller and more numerous, both 
 sorts the usual messengers of death. To the cure of this mal- 
 ady, neither medical knowledge nor the power of drugs was of 
 any effect; whether because the disease was in its own nature 
 mortal, or that the physicians (the number of whom, taking 
 quacks and women pretenders into the account, was grown very 
 great), could form no just idea of the cause, nor consequently 
 devise a true method of cure; whichever was the reason, few 
 escaped; but nearly all died the third day from the first appear- 
 ance of the symptoms, some sooner, some later, without any 
 fever or other accessory symptoms. What gave the more vir- 
 ulence to this plague was that, by being communicated from 
 the sick to the hale, it spread daily, like fire when it comes in 
 contact with large masses of combustibles. Nor was it caught 
 only by conversing with, or coming near the sick, but even by 
 touching their clothes, or anything that they had before 
 touched. It is wonderful what I am going to mention, and had 
 I not seen it with my own eyes, and were there not many wit- 
 nesses to attest it besides myself, I should never venture to re- 
 late it, however worthy it were of belief. Such, I say, was the 
 quality of the pestilential matter, as to pass not only from man 
 to man, but, what is more strange, it has been often known, 
 that anything belonging to the infected, if touched by any 
 other creature, would certainly infect, and even kill that creat- 
 ure in a short space of time. One instance of the kind I took 
 particular notice of: the rags of a poor man, just dead, had 
 been thrown into the street; two hogs came up, and after root- 
 ing amongst the rags and shaking them about in their mouths, 
 in less than an hour they both turned round and died on the 
 spot. 
 
 These facts, and others of the like sort, occasioned various 
 fears and devices amongst those who survived, all tending to 
 the same uncharitable and cruel end, which was, to avoid the
 
 GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO. 23 
 
 sick and everything that had been near them, expecting by 
 that means to save themselves. And some holding it best to 
 live temperately, and to avoid excesses of all kinds, made par- 
 ties and shut themselves up from the rest of the world, eating 
 and drinking moderately of the best, and diverting themselves 
 with music, and such other entertainments as they might have 
 within doors, never listening to anything from without to make 
 them uneasy. Others maintained free living to be a better pre- 
 servative, and would baulk no passion or appetite they wished 
 to gratify, drinking and revelling incessantly from tavern to 
 tavern, or in private houses (which were frequently found de- 
 serted by the owners, and, therefore, common to every one), 
 yet strenuously avoiding, with all this brutal indulgence, to 
 come near the infected. And such, at that time, was the pub- 
 lic distress, that the laws, human and divine, were no more re- 
 garded; for the officers to put them in force being either dead, 
 sick, or in want of persons to assist them, every one did just as 
 he pleased. A third sort of people chose a method between 
 these two, not confining themselves to rules of diet like the 
 former, and yet avoiding the intemperance of the latter ; but 
 eating and drinking what their appetites required, they walked 
 everywhere with odours and nosegays to smell to, as holding 
 it best to corroborate the brain, for the whole atmosphere 
 seemed to them tainted with the stench of dead bodies, arising 
 partly from the distemper itself and partly from the fermenting 
 of medicines within them. Others, with less humanity, but 
 perchance, as they supposed, with more security from danger, 
 decided that the only remedy for the pestilence was to avoid it; 
 persuaded, therefore, of this, and taking care for themselves 
 only, men and women in great numbers left the city, their 
 houses, relations and effects, and fled to the country, as if the 
 wrath of God had been restrained to visit those only within the 
 walls of the city, or else concluding that none ought to stay in 
 a place thus doomed to destruction. 
 
 Thus divided as they were in their views, neither did all die, 
 nor all escape; but falling sick indifferently, as well those of 
 one as of another opinion, they who first set the example by 
 forsaking others now languished themselves without pity. I
 
 24 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 pass over the little regard that citizens and relations showed to 
 each other, for their terror was such that a brother even fled 
 from his brother, a wife from her husband, and, what is more 
 uncommon, a parent from his own child. Hence, numbers 
 that fell sick could have no help but what the charity of friends, 
 who were very few, or the avarice of servants supplied; and 
 even these were scarce and at extravagant wages, and so little 
 used to the business that they were fit only to reach what was 
 called for, and observe when their employers died, and this 
 desire of getting money often cost them their lives. 
 
 NOVEL II. 
 
 Abraham the Jew, at the instigation ofjeannot de Chivigni, goes to the 
 court of Rome, and seeing the wickedness of the clergy there returns to 
 Paris, and becomes a Christian. 
 
 ****** * 
 
 At Paris there lived, as I have been told, a great merchant 
 and worthy man called Jeannot de Chivigni, a dealer in silk, 
 and an intimate friend to a certain rich Jew, whose name was 
 Abraham, a merchant also, and a very honest man. Jeannot, 
 being no stranger to Abraham's good and upright intentions, 
 was greatly troubled that the soul of so wise and well-meaning 
 a person should perish through his unbelief. He began, 
 therefore, in the most friendly manner, to entreat him to re- 
 nounce the errors of Judaism, and embrace the truth of Christ- 
 ianity, which he might plainly see flourishing more and more, 
 and as being the most wise and holy institution, gaining 
 ground, whereas the religion of the Jews was dwindling to noth- 
 ing. Abraham answered, that he esteemed no religion like his 
 own; he was born in it, and in it he intended to live and die; 
 nor could anything make him alter his resolution. All this 
 did not hinder Jeannot from beginning the same arguments 
 over again in a few days, and setting forth, in as awkward a 
 manner as a merchant must be supposed to do, for what reasons 
 our religion ought to be preferred: and though the Jew was 
 well read in their law, yet, whether it was his regard to the 
 man, or that Jeannot had the spirit of God upon his tongue, he 
 began to be greatly pleased with his arguments; but continued 
 obstinate, nevertheless, in his own creed, and would not suffer
 
 GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO. 25 
 
 himself to be converted. Jeanriot, on the other hand, was no 
 less persevering in his earnest solicitations, insomuch that the 
 Jew was overcome by them at last, and said: " L,ook you, 
 Jeannot, you are very desirous I should become a Christian, 
 and I am so much disposed to do as you would have me, that I 
 intend in the first place to go to Rome, to see him whom you 
 call God's vicar on earth, and to consider his ways a little, and 
 those of his brother cardinals. If they appear to me in such a 
 light that I may be able to comprehend by them, and by what 
 you have said, that your religion is better than mine, as you 
 would persuade me, I will then become a Christian; otherwise 
 I will continue a Jew as I am." 
 
 When Jeannot heard this he was much troubled, and said to 
 himself: ' ' I have lost all my labor, which I thought well be- 
 stowed, expecting to have converted this man; for should he 
 go to Rome, and see the wickedness of the clergy there, so far 
 from turning Christian, were he one already, he would cer- 
 tainly again become a Jew." Then addressing Abraham, he 
 said: " Nay, my friend, why should you be at the great trouble 
 and expense of such a journey ? Not to mention the dangers, 
 both by sea and land, to which so rich a person as yourself 
 must be exposed, do you think to find nobody here that can 
 baptize you ? Or if you have doubt and scruples, where will 
 you meet with abler men than are here to clear them up for 
 you, and to answer such questions as you shall put to him ? 
 You may take it for granted that the prelates yonder are like 
 those you see in France, only so much the better as they are 
 nearer to the principal pastor. Then let me advise you to 
 spare yourself the trouble of this journey, until such time as 
 you may want some pardon or indulgence, and then I may 
 probably bear you company. ' ' 
 
 " I believe it is as you say," replied the Jew, " but the long 
 and the short of the matter is, that I am fully resolved, if you 
 would have me do what you have so much solicited, to go 
 thither, else I will in no wise comply." 
 
 Jeannot, seeing him determined, said: "God be with you!" 
 and, supposing that he would never be a Christian after he 
 had seen Rome, gave him over for lost. The Jew took horse,
 
 26 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 and made the best of his way to Rome, where he was most 
 honorably received by his brethren, the Jews; and, without 
 saying a word of what he was come about, he began to look 
 narrowly into the manner of living of the pope, the cardinals, 
 and other prelates, and of the whole court; and, from what he 
 himself perceived, being a person of keen observation, and from 
 what he gathered from others, he found that, from the highest 
 to the lowest, they were given to all sorts of lewdness, without 
 the least shame or remorse; so that the only way to obtain any- 
 thing considerable was, by applying to prostitutes of every de- 
 scription. He observed, also, that they were generally drunk- 
 ards and gluttons, and, like brutes, more solicitous about their 
 bellies than anything else. Inquiring further, he found them 
 all such lovers of money, that they would not only buy and 
 sell man's blood in general, but even the blood of Christians 
 and sacred things of what kind soever, whether benefices, or 
 pertaining to the altar; that they drove as great a trade in this 
 way as there is in selling cloth and other commodities at Paris; 
 that to palpable simony they had given the plausible name of 
 procuration, and debaucheries they called supporting the body; 
 as if God had been totally unacquainted with their wicked in- 
 tentions, and, like men, was to be imposed upon by the names 
 of things. These and other things, which I shall pass over, 
 gave great offense to the Jew, who was a sober and modest per- 
 son; and now thinking he had seen enough, he returned home. 
 As soon as Jeannot heard of his arrival he went to see him, 
 thinking of nothing so little as of his conversion. They re- 
 ceived one another with a great deal of pleasure, and in a day 
 or two, after the traveler had recovered from his fatigue, Jean- 
 not began to inquire of him what he thought of the holy father, 
 the cardinals, and the rest of the court ? The Jew immediately 
 answered: "To me it seems as if God was much kinder to 
 them than they deserve; for, if I may be allowed to judge, I 
 must be bold to tell you, that I have neither seen sanctity, de- 
 votion or anything good in the clergy of Rome; but, on the con- 
 trary, luxury, avarice, gluttony, and worse than these, if worse 
 things can be, are so much in fashion with all sorts of people, 
 that I should rather esteem the court of Rome to be a forge, if
 
 GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO. 27 
 
 you allow the expression, for diabolical operations than things 
 divine; and, for what I can perceive, your pastor, and conse- 
 quently the rest, strive with their whole might and skill to 
 overthrow the Christian religion, and to drive it from off the 
 face of the earth, even where they ought to be its chief succor 
 and support. But as I do not see this come to pass, which 
 they so earnestly aim at; on the contrary, that your religion 
 gains strength and becomes everyday more glorious, I plainly 
 perceive that it is upheld by the Spirit of God, as the most true 
 and holy of all. For which reason, though I continued ob- 
 stinate to your exhortations, nor would suffer myself to be con- 
 verted by them, now I declare to you that I will no longer defer 
 being made a Christian. L,et us go then to the church, and do 
 you take care that I be baptized according to the manner of 
 your holy faith." 
 
 Jeannot, who expected a quite different conclusion, was the 
 most overjoyed man that could be, and taking his friend to our 
 Lady's Church at Paris, he requested the priests there to bap- 
 tize him, which was done forthwith. Jeannot being his spon- 
 sor, gave him the name of John, and afterwards took care to 
 have him well instructed in our faith, in which he made a speedy 
 proficiency, and became, in time, a good and holy man. 
 
 NOVEL III. 
 
 Melchizedeck, a Jew, by the story of three rings, escapes a most danger- 
 ous snare, which Saladin had prepared for him. 
 
 This novel having been universally applauded, Filomena 
 thus began: Neiphile's story put me in mind of a ticklish case 
 that befell a certain Jew; for as enough has been said concern- 
 ing God and the truth of our religion, it will not be amiss if 
 we descend to the actions of men. I proceed, therefore, to the 
 relation of a thing, which may make you more cautious for the 
 time to come, in answering questions that shall be put to you. 
 For you must know that as a man's folly often brings him 
 down from the most exalted state of life to the greatest misery, 
 so shall his good sense secure him in the midst of the utmost 
 danger, and procure him a safe and honorable repose. There 
 are many instances of people being brought to misery by their
 
 28 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 own folly, but these I choose to omit, as they happen daily; 
 what I purpose to exemplify, in the following short novel, is 
 the great cause for comfort to be found in the possession of a 
 good understanding. 
 
 Saladin was so brave and great a man that he had raised 
 himself from an inconsiderable station to be Sultan of Babylon, 
 and had gained many victories over both Turkish and Christian 
 princes. This monarch, having in divers wars, and by many 
 extraordinary expenses, run through all his treasure, some 
 urgent occasion fell out that he wanted a large sum of money. 
 Not knowing which way he might raise enough to answer his 
 necessities, he at last called to mind a rich Jew of Alexandria, 
 named Melchizedeck, who let out money at interest. Him he 
 believed to have wherewithal to serve him; but then he was so 
 coveteous, that he would never do it willingly, and Saladin was 
 loath to force him. But as necessity has no law, after much 
 thinking which way the matter might best be effected, he at 
 last resolved to use force under some color of reason. He 
 therefore sent for the Jew, received him in a most gracious 
 manner, and making him sit down, thus addressed him : 
 " Worthy man, I hear from divers persons that thou art very 
 wise and knowing in religious matters; wherefore I would 
 gladly know from thee which religion thou judgest to be the 
 true one, viz., the Jewish, the Mahometan or the Christian?" 
 The Jew (truly a wise man) found that Saladin had a mind to 
 trap him, and must gain his point should he exalt any one of 
 the three religions above the others; after considering, there- 
 fore, for a little how best to avoid the snare, his ingenuity at 
 last supplied him with the following answer: 
 
 "The question which your Highness has proposed is very 
 curious; and, that I may give you my sentiments, I must beg 
 leave to tell a short story. I remember often to have heard of 
 a great and rich man, who among his most rare and precious 
 jewels had a ring of exceeding beauty and value. Being proud 
 of possessing a thing of such worth, and desirous that it should 
 continue for ever in his family, he declared, by will, that to 
 whichsoever of his sons he should give this ring, him he de- 
 signed for his heir, and that he should be respected as the head
 
 GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO. . 29 
 
 of the family. The son to whom the ring was given made the 
 same law with respect to his descendants, and the ring passed 
 from one to another in long succession, till it came to a person 
 who had three sons, all virtuous and dutiful to their father, and 
 all equally beloved by him. Now the young men, knowing 
 what depended upon the ring, and ambitious of superiority, 
 began to entreat their father, who was now grown old, every 
 one for himself, that he would give the ring to him. The good 
 man, equally fond of all, was at a loss which to prefer; and as 
 he had promised all, and wished to satisfy all, he privately got 
 an artist to make two other rings, which were so like the first 
 that he himself scarcely knew the true one. When he found 
 his end approaching, he secretly gave one ring to each of his 
 sons; and they, after his death, all claimed the honor and 
 estate, each disputing with his brothers, and producing his 
 ring; and the rings were found so much alike that the true one 
 could not be distinguished. To law then they went, as to 
 which should succeed, nor is that question yet decided. And 
 thus it has happened, my Lord, with regard to the three laws 
 given by God the Father, concerning which you proposed your 
 question: every one believes he is the true heir of God, has his 
 law, and obeys his commandments; but which is in the right 
 is uncertain, in like manner as with the rings." 
 
 Saladin perceived that the Jew had very cleverly escaped the 
 net which was spread for him; he therefore resolved to discover 
 his necessity to him, and see if he would lend him money, tell- 
 ing him at the same time what he had designed to do, had not 
 that discreet answer prevented him. The Jew freely supplied 
 the monarch with what he wanted; and Saladin afterwards 
 paid him back in full, made him large presents, besides main- 
 taining him nobly at his court, and was his friend as long as he 
 lived.
 
 30 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 FRANCO SACCHETTI. 
 
 Born at Florence about 1335. While a young man he became known 
 as a poet, and appears to have traveled in the diplomatic service of the 
 republic. Exempted from banishment with other members of the Sac- 
 chetti family in 1380, the remainder of his life was passed in official ser- 
 vice in and about Florence. Died about the year 1400. Chief literary 
 work the Novelle. 
 
 cxiv.* 
 
 Dante Allighieri makes sensible of their errors a smith and an ass~ 
 driver, who were singing his book in garbled form. 
 
 That most excellent vernacular poet, whose fame will never 
 grow less, Dante Allighieri the Florentine, was neighbor in 
 Florence to the family of the Adimari. It came to pass that a 
 certain young cavalier of that family fell into difficulty, I know 
 not on account of what offense, and was about to come up for 
 sentence, in the due course of justice, before a certain magis- 
 trate, who was, it seems, upon terms of friendship with Dante. 
 He therefore besought the poet that he should intercede for 
 him with the magistrate; and this Dante replied he would will- 
 ingly do. So when the poet had dined, he left home and set 
 out upon his way to accomplish the business; but just as he 
 was passing by the gate of San Piero, a smith, hammering an 
 iron upon his anvil, was singing Dante, as one sings a ditty, 
 jumbling his verses together, clipping them and adding to 
 them, in such a manner that it seemed to Dante they were suf- 
 fering the greatest injury. He said nothing, however, but ap- 
 proached the smithy, where were lying the various tools with 
 which the owner plied his trade. Dante seized the hammer 
 and threw it into the street; seized the tongs and threw them 
 into the street; seized the balances and threw them into the 
 street, and so on with the remaining irons. The smith, turn- 
 ing about with an angry gesture, cried: "What the devil are 
 you doing? Are you mad?" Said Dante: " And you, what 
 are you doing?" " Working at my trade," the smith replied, 
 "and you are spoiling my tools, throwing them into the street." 
 Said Dante: "If you do not wish that I should spoil your 
 
 * Le Novelle di Franco Sacchelli. Ed. Eugenio Camerini. Milan, 1874.
 
 FRANCO SACCHETTI. 31 
 
 things, do not spoil mine." " How am I injuring you?" said 
 the smith. Said Dante: "You sing my book, but not as I 
 have made it. I also have a trade, and you are spoiling it for 
 me." The smith, swelling with rage, knew not what to reply, 
 but gathered together his scatteied tools and returned to his 
 forge, and when he wished again to sing, he sang of Tristan 
 and of Launcelot, but left Dante alone ; and Dante went his 
 way to the magistrate. But when he came into the presence 
 of that official, it occurred to him that the cavalier of the Adi- 
 mari, who had asked the favor of him, was a haughty youth 
 with scant courtesy, who, when he went through the city, 
 especially on horseback, rode with his legs outspread, until 
 they filled the street, if it happened to be narrow, so that pass- 
 ers-by were compelled to brush the toes of his shoes; and to 
 Dante, who was a close observer, such behavior was always 
 displeasing. Thereupon Dante said to the magistrate: "You 
 have before your court a certain cavalier, charged with a cer- 
 tain offense. I wish to speak a word for him. His manners 
 however are such that he deserves a severe penalty, for I be- 
 lieve that to trespass upon the rights of the public is the great- 
 est of offenses." Dante did not speak to deaf ears, and the 
 magistrate asked in what respect the young man has trespassed 
 upon the rights of the public. Dante replied: "When he rides 
 through the city, he rides with his legs wide from his horse, so 
 that whoever encounters him has to turn back, and cannot con- 
 tinue upon his way." Said the judge: " This may appear to 
 you a trifle, but it is a greater offence than the other of which 
 he is accused." " But see," said Dante, " I am his neighbor. 
 I intercede for him with you." And he returned home, where 
 he was asked by the cavalier how the affair stood. " He re- 
 plied favorably," said Dante. Some days afterwards the cav- 
 alier was summoned to appear and answer the charge against 
 him. He made his appearance, and after he had been informed 
 of the nature of the first charge, the judge ordered that the sec- 
 ond charge, concerning the loose manner of his riding, be read 
 to him. The cavalier, feeling that the penalty would be 
 doubled, said to himself: "I have done a fine thing indeed, 
 when through Dante's visit I believed I should go free, and
 
 32 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 now I am to be doubly fined!" Having been dismissed, ac- 
 cused as he was, he returned home, and finding Dante, said: 
 "You have indeed done me a good turn. Before you went to 
 him the judge was disposed to condemn me for one offense, and 
 after your visit he wished to condemn me for two;" and much 
 angered at Dante, he added: " If he condemns me I am able to 
 pay, and when it is over I will settle with him who is the cause 
 of it." Said Dante: "I have given you such a recommenda- 
 tion that if you were my own child I could not have given you 
 a better. If the judge is ill-disposed toward you, I am not the 
 cause of it." The cavalier, shaking his head, went home. A 
 few days afterward he was condemned to pay a thousand lire 
 for the first offense and another thousand for the careless rid- 
 ing; and neither he nor any of the house of Adimari were able 
 to forget the injury. 
 
 And this was one of the chief reasons that a short time after 
 he was driven as a Bianco from Florence, not without disgrace 
 to the city, and died an exile in the city of Ravenna. 
 
 NOVEI, cxv. 
 
 Dante Allighieri, hearing an ass- dtiver sing his book and say : " Arri" 
 struck him, saying : " I did not put that there .-" and left him, as the story 
 relates. 
 
 The last novel moves me to relate another concerning the 
 same poet, which is brief and good. One day as Dante was 
 going along for his diversion in a certain part of the city, wear- 
 ing the gorget and the armlet, as the custom then was, he 
 encountered an ass-driver, driving before him certain loads of 
 refuse. The driver was going behind his asses, singing the 
 book of Dante, and every now and then as he sang he touched 
 up an ass, and said: " Arri!" When Dante came up to him 
 he gave him a sharp blow upon the shoulders with his armlet, 
 saying: " I did not put that ' Arri' there!" The driver did 
 not know who Dante was, nor what he meant to say, and only 
 struck his asses the more sharply, and again said: " Arri" 
 When he had gone a little further he turned to Dante, and, 
 thrusting out his tongue and putting his thumb to his nose, 
 said: " Take that." Dante, who saw him, said: " I would not 
 give one of mine for a hundred of yours."
 
 FRANCO SACCHETTI. 33 
 
 O gentle words, full of wisdom ! How many there are who 
 would have run after the ass-driver, crying and raising a dis- 
 turbance; others again who would have thrown stones; but the 
 wise poet overwhelmed the ass-driver, winning praise from 
 passers-by that heard him with those clever words which he 
 hurled after so vile a man as was the ass-driver. 
 
 NOVEL cxxi. 
 
 Master Antonio da Ferrara, having lost at hazard at Ravenna^ comes 
 to a church, where lay the body of Dante, and taking the candles from 
 before the crucifix carried them all and placed them at the tomb of Dante. 
 
 Master Antonio da Ferrara was a most able man, and a poet 
 as well, and something of a courtier; but he was a man of vice 
 and a sinner. Being in Ravenna at the time when Bernardino 
 da Polenta held the signory, it happened that the said Antonio, 
 who was a great gamester, having played one day and lost 
 about all that he possessed, in desperate mood entered the 
 church of the Minorites, where stands the tomb of the Floren- 
 tine poet, Dante; and having noticed an antique crucifix, half 
 burned and black with smoke, on account of the great quantity 
 of lights which had been placed before it; seeing, moreover, 
 that many candles stood there lighted, he suddenly ran to the 
 place, and seizing all the candles and tapers that were burning 
 there, turned to the tomb of Dante and placed them before it, 
 saying: " Take them, for you are indeed more worthy of them 
 than He." The people seeing this were full of amazement, 
 and said, " What does he mean to say ?" and they gazed one at 
 another. A steward of the signory, who happened to be in the 
 church at that hour and witnessed what transpired, when he 
 had returned to the palace, told the Signore what he had seen 
 master Antonio do. The Signore, like all the others favorably 
 impressed with the deed, communicated to the Archbishop of 
 Ravenna what master Antonio had done, suggesting that he 
 should summon him, and make a show of instituting a process 
 against him as a heretic, on the ground of heretical depravity. 
 The Archbishop immediately did as he was requested; Antonio 
 appeared, and when the complaint against him was read in order 
 that he might refute it, he denied nothing but confessed all,
 
 34 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 saying to the Archbishop: " Even if you should be compelled 
 to burn me, I should say nothing else; for I have always com- 
 mended myself to the crucifix, and it has never done me any- 
 thing but ill, and when I saw them place so many candles 
 before it, half burned as it was (would it were wholly so !), I 
 took away a few lights and placed them at the tomb of Dante, 
 who seemed to me to merit them more than the crucifix; and 
 if you do not believe me, look at the writings of one and the 
 other. You will conclude that those of Dante are a wonder of 
 nature and of the human intellect; and that the gospels are 
 stupid; and indeed, if they contain anything high and wonder- 
 ful, it is not surprising, that he who sees everything and has 
 everything, should so express himself. But that which is re- 
 markable is, that a mere man, like Dante, who not only has 
 not everything, but no part of everything, has nevertheless 
 seen all and has written all. And, indeed, it seems to me that 
 he is more worthy of the illumination than the other; and 
 henceforward I am going to recommend myself to him; as for 
 the rest of you, you perform your functions and look well to 
 your comfort, and for love of it you flee all discomfort and live 
 like poltroons. And when you wish to understand me more 
 nearly, I will tell you about it again, for I have not yet played 
 my last coin." The archbishop appeared to be perplexed and 
 said: " Then you have played and you have lost ? You shall re- 
 turn another time." Said master Antonio: " If you too had lost, 
 you and all your kind, all that you have, I should be very glad 
 of it. As for returning to you, that will be my affair; but 
 whether I return or not, you will find me always so disposed 
 or worse." The archbishop said: "Go hence with God, or if 
 you please, with the Devil, and unless I send for you we shall 
 not see each other again. At least go and give of these fruits 
 to the Signore which you have given to me." And so they 
 parted. The Signore, informed of what had taken place and 
 amused with the reasoning of Master Antonio, made him a 
 present, that he might be able to go on gaming; and as for the 
 candles placed before Dante, he took great pleasure in them for 
 several days; and then he went away to Ferrara, perhaps better 
 disposed than Master Antonio. At the time when Pope Urban
 
 FRANCO SACCHETTI. 35 
 
 the Fifth died and his portrait was placed in a noble church in 
 a certain great city, he saw placed in front of it a lighted wax 
 candle of two pounds weight, while before the crucifix, which 
 was not very large, was a poor little penny dip. He took the 
 wax candle, and placing it in front of the crucifix, said: " It is 
 an evil hour when we wish to shift and change the rulership of 
 the skies, as we change everywhere the powers of earth." And 
 with this he turned homeward. Such a fine and notable speech 
 was this as seldom might happen upon a like occasion. 
 
 NOVEL ccxvi. 
 
 Master Alberto della Magna, arriving at an inn on the Po, made him 
 a fish out of wood, with which he caught as many fish as he wished. This 
 the host lost after a time and went to seek master Alberto, in order that 
 he might make him another, but was unable to obtain this favor. 
 
 I am about to commence some other novels, and first of all I 
 shall relate one concerning a most able and holy man, whose 
 name was master Alberto della Magna, who, while passing 
 through a certain district of lyombardy, arrived one evening at 
 a village on the Po, which is called the Villa di Santo Alberto. 
 Kntering into the house of a poor inn-keeper, where he thought 
 to sup and pass the night, he saw many nets, with which the 
 owner was accustomed to fish, and furthermore he noted many 
 female children: whereupon he asked the host concerning his 
 condition; how he was prospering and if these were his daugh- 
 ters. To which the inn-keeper replied: "My Father, I am 
 very poor and have seven daughters; and if it was not for my 
 fishing I should die of hunger." Then master Alberto asked 
 him how great was his catch. And he replied: " Indeed, I do 
 not catch as many as I need, and I am not very fortunate in 
 this business." Then master Alberto, before he left the inn on 
 the following morning, fashioned a fish out of wood, and called 
 the host to him and said: "Take this fish, and tie it to your 
 net when you cast, and you will always catch a great quantity 
 of fish with it, and perhaps there will be so many that they 
 will be a great help to you in marrying off your daughters." 
 The poor host hearing this, accepted the gift very willingly, 
 and rendered thanks most profusely to the wise man; and so he
 
 36 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 departed that morning from the inn, going on his journey to 
 La Magna. The host, left in possession of the fish, and desir- 
 ous to put its virtues to the proof, went the same day fishing; 
 so great a multitude of fish were drawn to the bait and entered 
 into the nets that he was scarcely able to draw them from the 
 water and carry them home. His good luck continued; he did 
 so well that from a poor man he became rich, to such a degree 
 that in a short time he had married off all his daughters. It 
 came about, however, that fortune, envious of such prosperity, 
 brought it to pass that one day, as he was drawing his net with 
 a great number of fish, the cord that bound the wooden fish 
 broke, and the fish was swept away down the Po, so that he 
 was never able to recover it, wherefore if ever there was one 
 who grieved over an adverse circumstance it was he, bewailing 
 his misfortune with all his might. And when he sought to 
 fish without the fish of wood, it came to naught; he could not 
 catch one out of a thousand. Wherefore lamenting: "What 
 shall I do ? what shall I say ?' ' he finally concluded to set forth, 
 and never to rest until he arrived at La Magna, at the house of 
 master Alberto; and to ask of him as a favor to restore the lost 
 fish. And so he never halted until he came where master Al- 
 berto was; and here with the greatest reverence and with weep- 
 ing he knelt and related the benefits he had received from him ; 
 what an infinite number of fish he had caught and how, the 
 cord being broken, the fish had gone down the Po, and had 
 been lost. Moreover he besought his holiness, that for their 
 welfare and out of pity for himself and his daughters, he should 
 make him another fish in order that he might restore to him 
 that favor which he had once conferred upon him. Master Al- 
 berto turned to him and with a voice full of sorrow said: " My 
 child, I should be very glad if I were able to do that which you 
 ask; but I cannot, for I must let you know that when I made 
 you the fish which I gave you, the heavens and all the planets 
 were at that hour so disposed as to confer especial virtue upon 
 the fish; and if you and I presume to say, that this point and 
 this conjunction may return, when another might be made with 
 equal virtue, clearly and surely this cannot happen from now 
 on for thirty-six thousand years: so that you can see if it be
 
 FRANCO SACCHETTI. 37 
 
 possible to reproduce what once I made." Having listened for 
 a while, the inn-keeper commenced to weep bitterly, bewailing 
 loudly his misfortune, saying: " If I had known this, I should 
 have bound it with a wire, and held it so firmly that I never 
 should have lost it." Then master Alberto answered: " Child, 
 be still, for you are not the first man that has not known how 
 to retain his luck, which God has sent ; but there have been 
 many and abler men than you who not only have not under- 
 stood how to use the small opportunity which you have used, 
 but have not even known how to sieze it when it has been put 
 before them." So after much conversation, and with such 
 consolation, the poor inn-keeper departed and returned to his 
 meagre life, still gazing out upon the Po, if perchance he might 
 see his lost fish. But he might look well, for it was perhaps 
 already in the greater sea, with many fish about it, and with it 
 neither man nor fortune. And thus he lived what time pleased 
 God, lamenting to himself the lost fish, so that it would have 
 been much better if he had never seen it. So it happens every 
 day that fortune shows herself propitious, only to see who has 
 the wit to seize her; and often times he who best knows how 
 to lay hold upon her, derives no benefit thereby ; and many 
 times it comes to pass that he who knows not how to seize 
 upon her ever afterwards laments and lives miserable, saying : 
 11 1 could have such and such a thing, but would not." Others 
 seize upon her, but understand how to hold her only a short 
 time as did this inn-keeper. But taking all our happenings 
 together, he who fails to seize the opportunity which time and 
 fortune offers, when he bethinks himself he looks again and 
 finds it not, unless he waits thirty-six thousand years, as said 
 our wise man, which saying seems to me to be in conformity 
 with that which certain philosophers have already said, that 
 six and thirty thousand years from now the world will turn 
 into that disposition which it has at present. There have been 
 already in my day those who have left their property so that 
 their children were unable to sell or pledge it, wherefore it 
 appears to me that they hold to this opinion, that they may 
 find their own when they return at the end of six and thirty 
 thousand years.
 
 38 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 POGG10 BRACCIOLINL 
 
 Born at Terranova, in the teriitory of Florence. 1380. Studied Latin 
 under John of Ravenna, and Greek under Manuel Chrysoloras. An able 
 copyist, be was received into the service of the Roman curia about 1402. 
 Here he served as secretary for a period of fifty years. Poggio acquired 
 fame as a discoverer of classical manuscripts. In 1452, returned to Flor- 
 ence, and the following year was made chancellor and historiographer 
 to the republic. Died here in 1459. Chief works are a History of Flor- 
 ence, the Facetiae and various moral essays. 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM THE FACETIAE.* 
 
 XVII. Concerning a tailor of Visconti, by manner of comparison . 
 Pope Martin had charged Antonio Lusco with the prepara- 
 tion of a letter. After having read the same he ordered him 
 to submit it to one of my friends, in whom he had the greatest 
 confidence. This friend, who was at the table and a little 
 warmed with wine, perhaps, disapproved of the letter com- 
 pletely and said that it ought to be re-written. Here Antonio 
 said to Bartholomew de' Bardi, who happened to be present : 
 "I will correct my letter in the same way that the tailor 
 widened the breeches of Gian Galeazzo Visconti ; to-morrow, 
 before dinner, I will return and the letter will be satisfactory." 
 Bartholomew asked him what he meant by that. "Gian 
 Galeazzo Visconti, father of the elder Duke of Milan," said 
 Antonio, "was a man of high stature, and excessively corpu- 
 lent. One day, when he had lined his stomach, as frequently 
 happened, with an abundance of food and drink, and betaken 
 himself to bed, he summoned his tailor and overwhelmed him 
 with reproaches, charging him with having made his breeches 
 too narrow, and ordering him to enlarge them in such a way 
 that they would no longer inconvenience him. ' It shall be 
 done,' replied the tailor, ' according to your desire; to-morrow 
 morning this garment will fit you to perfection.' The tailor 
 took the breeches and hung them upon a peg without chang- 
 ing them in the least. Somebody said to him : ' Why don't 
 you widen this garment which the great belly of Monsignor 
 
 * Les Factlies de Pogge Traduites en Frantais, avec le Texte Latin. 
 2 v. Paris, 1878.
 
 POGGIO BRACCIOLINI. 39 
 
 filled to bursting? ' ' To-morrow/ said the tailor, ' when Mon- 
 signor rises, his digestion finished, the breeches will be quite 
 large enough for him.' Next morning he returned with the 
 breeches and Visconti, drawing them on, remarked : ' Now 
 you see they fit me perfectly; they no longer bind me any- 
 where.' And in the same way will the letter please," Antonio 
 said, "when once the wine has been slept away." 
 
 XX. Exhortations of a cardinal to the soldiers of the Pope. 
 It was in Piceno, during the war which the Cardinal of Spain 
 waged against the enemies of the Pope. The two armies found 
 themselves face to face, and it was necessary that the partisans 
 of the Pope should once for all conquer or be conquered. The 
 Cardinal encouraged the soldiers to fight with fair words: he 
 swore that those who fell in the battle should sup with God 
 and with the angels; that all their sins should be forgiven; 
 hoping by these means to spur them on to give themselves to 
 death. Having come to the end of his promises, he was retir- 
 ing from the fray, when one of the soldiers said to him: " How 
 about you? don't you want to sup with ustco?" "No," he 
 replied, " this is not my hour for supper; I am not hungrj'." 
 
 XXII. Concerning a priest who, instead of priestly vestments, carried 
 capons to his bishop. 
 
 A bishop of Arezzo, Angelo by name, an acquaintance of 
 ours, convoked one day his clergy for a synod, and ordered all 
 who were clothed with any dignity whatsoever to set out upon 
 the journey with the priestly habits, or, as they say in Italian, 
 with cappe e cotte. A certain priest who did not possess these 
 vestments, reflected sadly to himself, not knowing how he 
 might procure them. His housekeeper, seeing him thoughtful 
 with downcast head, asked the reason of his grief. He replied 
 that, according to the orders of the bishop, it was necessary to 
 go to the synod with cappe e cotte. " But, my good man," re- 
 plied the housekeeper, " you have not grasped the meaning of 
 this order: Monsignor does not demand cafipe e cotte, but rather 
 capponi cotti ; that is what you must take him." The priest 
 followed the woman's advice. He carried along cooked capons, 
 and was exceedingly well received. The bishop went so far as
 
 40 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 to say, with a smile, that he alone, among all his brethren, had 
 comprehended the true sense of the command. 
 
 XXXVI. Concerning a priest who gave burial to a pet dog. 
 
 There was in Tuscany a wealthy country priest. He lost a 
 little dog, of which he was very fond, and buried him in the 
 churchyard. This came to the ears of the bishop, who, 
 coveting the priest's money, summoned him for punishment, 
 as if he had committed a great crime. The parish priest, who 
 understood his bishop quite well, presented himself before his 
 superior with fifty golden ducats. The prelate reproached him 
 sternly with having given burial to a dog, and ordered him to 
 be thrown into prison. "O father," replied the cunning 
 fellow, "if you only knew the wisdom of that little dog, you 
 would not wonder that he deserved burial along with human 
 beings. His intelligence was more than human in his lifetime, 
 and especially at the moment of his death." "What do you 
 mean by that ?" asked the bishop. " At the close of his life," 
 the priest continued, "he made his will, and, knowing that 
 you were needy, he left you fifty golden ducats. Here they 
 are." The bishop then approved the will and burial, pocketed 
 the money and dismissed the priest. 
 
 L V. A story of Mancini. 
 
 Mancini, a peasant of my village, used to carry grain to 
 Figlino upon a drove of asses, which he hired for the purpose. 
 One time, as he was returning from market, tired with the 
 journey, he mounted upon the best of the animals. As he 
 approached home he counted the asses ambling along before 
 him, and, forgetting the one upon which he was riding, imag- 
 ined that one of them was lacking. Greatly agitated, he left 
 the asses with his wife, telling her to return them to their own- 
 ers, and returned to the market, more than seven miles away, 
 without dismounting. On the way he inquired of every 
 passer-by if he had not seen a stray ass. Each one replied that 
 he had not. At night he returned home sad and totally dis- 
 couraged at having lost an ass. Finally, upon his wife's 
 entreaty, he dismounted and discovered that which he had 
 sought with so great pains.
 
 POGGIO BRACCIOUNI. 41 
 
 L VII. Ingenious retort of Dante, the Florentine poet. 
 Dante Allighieri, our Florentine poet, received for some time 
 at Verona the hospitality of the elder Cane della Scala, a most 
 generous prince. Cane had ever in his company another 
 Florentine, a man without birth, learning or tact, who was 
 good for nothing but to laugh and play the fool. His silly 
 jokes, for they were not worthy the name of wit, so pleased 
 Cane that he made him rich presents. Dante, a man of the 
 greatest learning, modest as he was wise, regarded this person 
 as a stupid beast, as he had reason to. " How does it come to 
 pass," said one day the Florentine to Dante, "that you are 
 poor and needy, you who pass for learned and wise, while I am 
 rich, I who am stupid and ignorant?" "When I shall find," 
 replied Dante, "a master like myself, and whose tastes are 
 similar to my own, as you have found one, then he will enrich 
 me too." Excellent and just reply; for the great are ever 
 pleased with the company of their like. 
 
 L VIII. Witty reply of the same poet. 
 
 Dante was one time at the table between the elder and the 
 younger of the Cani della Scala. In order to put the joke upon 
 him the attendants of the two lords threw stealthily all the 
 bones at the feet of Dante. On arising from the table the 
 whole company turned toward Dante, astonished to see so great 
 a quantity of bones at his place. But he, quick to take ad- 
 vantage of the situation, said : "Surely it is nothing to wonder 
 at if the Dogs have eaten their bones. I myself am no dog." 
 
 LX. Concerning a man who searched for his drowned wife in the river. 
 Another man, whose wife was drowned, searched for her 
 body up the stream. A passer-by, much surprised, said to him 
 that he ought to search for her down the current. " I should 
 never find her that way," replied the man. " She was, when 
 living, so stubborn and self-willed, and so contrary in her 
 habits, that even after death she would never have been will- 
 ing to float except against the stream." 
 
 LXXl. Concerning a shepherd who made an incomplete confession. 
 A shepherd of that part of the kingdom of Naples where
 
 42 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 brigandage is a profession, came once to seek a confessor, to 
 whom he might relate his sins. Kneeling at the priest's feet 
 in tears, he said: "Pardon me, father, for I have sinned 
 deeply." The priest urged him to confess all, but he hesitated 
 for a long time, like a man who had committed some horrible 
 crime. Finally, as the confessor urged him, he said: "One 
 fast-day, as I was making cheese, some drops of milk from the 
 curd which I was pressing flew into my mouth, and I neglected 
 to spit them out. ' ' The priest, who knew the customs of the 
 neighborhood, smiled when he heard this man accuse himself 
 of having failed to observe the fast, as if it were a great sin, 
 and asked him if there were not some other misdeeds upon his 
 conscience. The shepherd said there were not. " Have you 
 not, you and your comrades, robbed or assassinated any trav- 
 eler, as so often happens in your neighborhood?" " O, as for 
 that, ' ' replied the other, ' ' I have killed and robbed more than 
 one of them, I and my friends; but that happens so often with 
 us that nobody attaches any importance to it." The confessor 
 had difficulty in making him understand that these were two 
 grave crimes. The shepherd, unable to believe that murder 
 and robbery, which were habitual occurrences in his country, 
 could be productive of serious results, desired absolution only 
 for the milk which he had drunk. Sad result of the habit of 
 sin , which causes the greatest crimes to be regarded as trivial 
 occurrences. 
 
 LXXV. Concerning the Duke of Anjou, who showed to Ridolfo a rich 
 
 treasure. 
 
 They were censuring, in a group of learned men, the foolish 
 anxiety of those who give themselves so many pains and so 
 much labor in searching for and in buying precious stones. 
 ' ' Ridolfo da Camerina, ' ' said one of the company, ' ' very 
 cleverly chided the stupidity of the Duke of Anjou, on his de- 
 parture for the kingdom of Naples. Ridolfo had come to see 
 him in his camp; the Duke showed him objects of great cost, 
 and amongst others, pearls, sapphires, carbuncles and other 
 stones of immense value. After having looked at them, Ri- 
 dolfo asked what these stones were worth and of what good 
 they were. The Duke replied that their cost was enormous,
 
 POGGIO BRACCIOLINI. 43 
 
 and that they produced nothing. " Indeed," said Ridolfo, " I 
 will show you, myself, two stones which have cost me ten 
 florins, and which bring me in two hundred yearly." The 
 Duke was astonished; Ridolfo conducted him to a mill which 
 he had caused to be built, and showed him a pair of mill stones: 
 "Behold," he said, "those which surpass in usefulness and 
 profit all your precious stones. ' ' 
 
 CXXIV, Pleasantry at the expense of an envoy from Perugia. 
 
 At the time when the Florentines were at war with Pope 
 Gregory, the people of Perugia, who had deserted the party of 
 the sovereign pontiff" for those of Florence, sent to that city 
 certain ambassadors to demand aid. One of them, who was a 
 Doctor, began a long discourse, and at the start, as an intro- 
 duction to the matter in hand, pronounced these words: "Date 
 nobis de oleo vestro. ' ' Another of the party, a humorous fellow, 
 who detested such circumlocutions, interrupted him: "What 
 is this about oil?" he cried. "You ask for oil when it is 
 soldiers that we are in need of. Have you forgotten that we 
 have come here to ask for arms, and not oil?" "But these 
 are the very words of the Scripture, ' ' replied the Doctor. ' ' A 
 fine reason for their use, ' ' retorted the other. ' ' We are the 
 enemies of the church, and you call the Holy Scriptures to our 
 aid !" The humor of this man caused the whole company to 
 laugh; the flow of useless words which the Doctor had pre- 
 pared was cut short, and they came at once to the point of the 
 negotiation. 
 
 (. XXV. Concerning the Ambassadors from Perugia to Pope Urban. 
 
 The people of Perugia had also sent three ambassadors to 
 Pope Urban V. at Avignon. On their arrival the pope hap- 
 pened to be severely ill; however, in order not to keep them 
 too long in suspense, he gave orders that they should be intro- 
 duced, but requesting in advance that they should present their 
 affairs in as brief a manner as possible. One of them, a grave 
 Doctor, during the journey had committed to memory a long 
 discourse with which he intended to address the pontiff"; and, 
 disregarding utterly the fact that his Holiness was sick and 
 confined to his bed, he set himself to speaking at such length 
 that the Holy Father, at various intervals, betrayed the annoy-
 
 44 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 ance which he felt. When the thoughtless individual had 
 come at length to the end of his oration, Urban asked the 
 others, with his usual courtesy, if they had anything to add. 
 One of the ambassadors, who was sensible of the stupidity of 
 his colleague and of the annoyance of the pope as well, there- 
 upon said: " Most Holy Father, our orders read expressly 
 that if you do not consent at once to our request we shall not 
 retire until our colleague has repeated his discourse." This 
 pleasantry caused the sovereign pontiff to smile, and he gave 
 orders that their business should receive immediate attention. 
 
 CCXXX, How a loud preacher was put to shame, 
 A religious, who preached often, had the habit of crying 
 very loud, as some fools do. One of the women who were 
 present began to weep at the sound of these formidable out- 
 bursts, so that finally the religious noticed her. Persuaded 
 that it was his sermon which had recalled to this woman's 
 mind the love of God, moved her conscience and brought her 
 to tears, he summoned her to him and asked of her the cause 
 of her groans; whether perchance it might be his words that 
 had moved her and caused her to melt into pious tears, as he 
 believed. The woman replied to the preacher that she was 
 profoundly moved and saddened by his cries, and by the sound 
 of his voice. "I am a widow," she said, "and my late 
 lamented left me an ass, by the labor of which I have managed 
 to subsist. This ass had the habit of braying night and day, 
 like your worship; but it is dead, and now I am miserable, 
 without the means of living. So, when I heard you speak so 
 loud and with a voice that seemed to me in every way like that 
 of my ass, the thought of the poor beast made me weep in spite 
 of myself. ' ' So was put to shame the stupidity of this preacher, 
 who merited rather the name of brayer. 
 
 DESCRIPTION BY POGGIO THE FLORENTINE OF THE DEATH AND PUNISH- 
 MENT OF JEROME OF PRAGUE.* 
 
 Poggio to Leonardo Aretino, S. P. D. 
 When for several days I was staying at the baths I wrote 
 
 * Ortwin Gratius: Fasciculus Rerum, etc. Ed. Brown. London, 1690. 
 Vol. 1 , pp. 170 174.
 
 POGGIO BRACCIOUNI. 45 
 
 thence a letter to our Nicholas which I suppose you will read. 
 When I returned to Constance, or a few days later, the case of 
 Jerome was taken up, whom they call a heretic, and indeed 
 publicly. I have determined to review this case for you, both 
 because of its importance, and more particularly on account of 
 the eloquence and learning of the man. I confess that I have 
 never seen any one, who in a matter of pleading, involving life 
 or death, came so near the eloquence of the ancients, whom we 
 so greatly admire. It was wonderful to see with what words, 
 with what eloquence, with what arguments, with what coun- 
 tenance, with what language and with what confidence he 
 replied to his adversaries, and how justly he put his case: so 
 that it is impossible not to regret that so noble and prominent 
 a genius should be diverted to the interests of heresy, if indeed 
 those things are true, which are charged against him. For I 
 have no disposition to pass judgment upon such a case: I leave 
 that to be determined by those who are held to be more expert. 
 Nor do I intend to give a detailed report of the case after the 
 manner of court reporters; it would be too long, and the work 
 of many days. I shall touch upon certain of the more import- 
 ant points, in which you may observe the learning of the man. 
 Although many things had been brought against this Jerome, 
 which seemed to indicate the existence of heresy, and these 
 were confirmed by the testimony of witnesses; yet it pleased 
 the assembly that he should reply publicly to those charges 
 one by one which had been brought against him. So he was 
 led into the assembly, and when he was ordered to reply to 
 these things he still refused, saying that he ought to be allowed 
 to state his own case, rather than to reply to the slanders of 
 his adversaries. In the same way he asserted that he ought 
 first to be heard upon his own behalf, and later he might take 
 up the calumnies which his adversaries had directed against 
 himself. But when this concession was denied him, still stand- 
 ing in the midst of the assembly, he said: " How great a wrong 
 is this, that while for three hundred and forty days I have 
 languished in strictest confinement, in squalor and filth, 
 shackled and deprived of everything, you have constant^ given 
 audience to my opponents and detractors, and yet refuse to
 
 46 SOURCE-BOOK OF THB ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 hear me one single hour. Hence it follows, that while the ears 
 of each of you have been open to these things, and after so 
 long a time, they have persuaded you that I am a heretic, an 
 enemy of the faith, a persecutor of the clergy, yet to me no 
 opportunity is given for defending myself. If you have pre- 
 judged me in your minds an evil man, how will you be able to 
 determine what I really am ? And (he said) you are men, not 
 gods; not immortal, but mortal, liable to fall into error, to mis- 
 take, to be deceived, duped and led astray. In this gathering 
 are said to be the lights of the world, the wiser ones of earth. 
 Most of all it becomes you then to take great pains, lest anything 
 be done inconsiderately or unadvisedly or against justice. For 
 my part I am a human being, whose life is in the balance; but I 
 say these things not for my own sake, who am but mortal. It 
 seems to me unworthy of your wisdom to set against me so many 
 men in violation of all justice, and a thing likely to be harmful 
 not so much in this instance as by example. ' ' These and many 
 things beside he said most elegantly, interrupted in his speech 
 with the noise and murmurings of many present. Then it was 
 decreed that he should reply first to the errors which were 
 urged against him; and that afterwards an opportunity be 
 given him to speak as he chose. Thereupon the heads of the 
 accusation were read one by one from the pulpit and afterwards 
 substantiated with testimony. Then he was asked if he de- 
 sired to make objection. It is incredible how adroitly he 
 replied, and with what arguments he defended himself. He 
 advanced nothing unworthy of a good man; as though he felt 
 confident, as he publicly asserted, that no just reason could be 
 found for his death nor even for his conviction of the least 
 offence. He declared all the charges to be false, invented by 
 his rivals. Among other things, when in the reading he was 
 branded as a slanderer of the apostolic see, an opponent of the 
 Roman pontiff, an enemy to the cardinals, a persecutor of 
 prelates, and hostile to the Christian clergy, then rising with 
 voice of complaint and hands outstretched: "Whither shall I 
 turn now, O conscript fathers? Of whom shall I seek aid? 
 Whose intercession shall I seek? whom call in my behalf? 
 Not you ! For these my persecutors have turned your minds
 
 POGGIO BRACCIOLINI. 47 
 
 from my welfare; branding me as the general enemy of those 
 who are to sit in judgment upon me. They have indeed trusted 
 that even if those things which they have invented against me 
 should seem trivial, you would nevertheless crush with your 
 verdict the common enemy and opponent of all, which they 
 have most falsely made me out to be; therefore if you trust 
 their words, there is no longer any hope for my safety. ' ' Many 
 he touched with humor, many with satire, many he often 
 caused to laugh in spite of the sad affair, jesting at their re- 
 proaches. When he was asked what he believed concerning 
 the sacrament, he said, " First it is bread and afterwards the 
 true body of Christ, and the rest according to the faith." Then 
 a certain one remarked: "They say you have declared that 
 it remains bread after consecration." He replied, "At the 
 baker's it remains bread." To a certain other one, of the 
 order of Dominicans, who inveighed bitterly against him, he 
 said, "Peace, hypocrite!" To another who swore against 
 him on his conscience, he said : ' ' This is the surest way of 
 deceiving. ' ' A certain distinguished opponent he never spoke 
 of except as a dog or an ass. When on account of the number 
 and weight of the charges, it was impossible to complete the 
 matter on this day, it was continued to a third day; when the 
 heads of the various accusations were repeated and afterwards 
 confirmed by many witnesses. Thereupon the accused, rising, 
 said: ' ' Since you have listened so attentively to my adversaries, 
 it is right and proper that you should hear me with unbiased 
 minds." Then notwithstanding much confusion, permission 
 was granted him to speak. He, in the beginning, prayed that 
 God should grant him such understanding and such power of 
 speaking as might be turned to the profit and safety of his soul. 
 Then: "I know, most reverend doctors," he said, "that many 
 very excellent men, bearing up bravely against indignities, 
 overwhelmed with false witnesses, have been condemned with 
 iniquitous judgments." At first he took them back to Socra- 
 tes, unjustly condemned by his fellow-citizens, he who, when 
 occasioned offered, was yet unwilling to escape, lest he should 
 thereby yield to the fear of those two things which seem most 
 bitter to men, imprisonment and death. Then he mentioned
 
 48 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 the captivity of Plato, the flight of Anaxagoras, and the torture 
 of Zeno, and the unjust condemnation of many other pagans; 
 the exile of Rupilius, the unworthy death of Boetius and others 
 whom Boetius himself mentions. Thence he passed to Hebrew 
 examples: and first instanced Moses, the liberator of his peo- 
 ple and their legislator, how he had often been caluminated by 
 his people, called the betrayer and the despiser of his race; 
 Joseph, first of all sold by his brethren through envy, then 
 thrown into chains upon suspicion of adultery. Along with 
 these Isaiah, Daniel and almost all the prophets assailed with 
 unjust judgments as despisers of God or seditious. Then he 
 brought forward the judgment of Susanna; and of many others 
 of the greatest sanctity, who nevertheless perished by false 
 judgments. Afterward coming down to John the Baptist, and 
 then to our Saviour, he proceeded to show how in each case 
 they were condemned by false witnesses and false judges. 
 Then Stephen, put to death by the priesthood, and the Apos- 
 tles, all of them, condemned to death, not as good men, but as 
 inciting the people to sedition, as despisers of the Gods and 
 doers of evil deeds. It was a crime that a priest should be un- 
 justly condemned by a priest, and he showed that it was the 
 greatest crime that this should be done by a company of priests, 
 and proved it by example, but most iniquitous of all, by a 
 council of priests ; and he showed that this had happened. 
 These things he clearly set forth, much to the interest of all, 
 and since the whole weight of the case depended upon the wit- 
 nesses, he showed with much reason that no confidence was to 
 be placed in them, particularly when they spoke, not out of 
 conviction, but from hatred, illwill and envy. Then he laid 
 bare the causes of their hatred in such a way that he lacked 
 little of bringing conviction. They were of such a character 
 that (except in a matter of faith) little credence would have 
 been given to their evidence. The minds of all were moved 
 and turned toward mercy; for he added that he had come to 
 Constance of his own free will, to clear himself. He described 
 his life and studies, full of services and virtues. Such he said 
 was the custom of the most learned and holiest men of old, that 
 they held diverse opinions in matters of faith, not to the injury
 
 POGGIO BRACCIOLINI. 49 
 
 of the faith, but to the discovery of the truth. In this way 
 Augustine and Jerome differed, not alone that they held di- 
 verse opinions, but also contrary ones; and this with no sus- 
 picion of heresy. But all expected that either he should purge 
 himself of heresy, by retracting the things charged against 
 him, or should ask pardon for his errors. But he asserted that 
 he had not erred, and pointing out the falsity of the charges 
 made by others, was unwilling himself to retract. So coming 
 down to praise John Huss, who had been condemned to be 
 burnt, he called him a good man, just and holy, unworthy of 
 such a death, saying that he himself was prepared to go to any 
 punishment whatsoever, with brave and steadfast mind; even 
 to deliver himself to his enemies and to those lying witnesses, 
 who sometime, in the presence of God, whom they could not 
 deceive, would be called to account for the things which they 
 had said. Great was the grief of those present; for they de- 
 sired to see so worthy a man saved, if he had shown a reason- 
 able disposition. But he persevered in his opinion, and seemed 
 moreover to seek death. In his praise of John Huss he said 
 that Huss had never held opinions hostile to the Church of 
 God itself, but only against the abuses of the clergy, against 
 the pride, the arrogance and the pomp of prelates. For since 
 the patrimony of the churches was first intended for the poor, 
 then for the hospitals, then for the building of churches, it 
 seemed to this good man a shame that it should come to be 
 wasted upon harlots, banquets, food for horses and dogs, ele- 
 gant garments and other things unworthy of the religion ot 
 Christ. But here he displayed the greatest cleverness ; for 
 when his speech was often interrupted with various disturb- 
 ances, and he was assailed by some who carped at his opin- 
 ions, he left no one of them unscathed, but turned trenchantly 
 upon them, forced them either to blush or to be still. When 
 murmurs rose he was silent, occasionally rebuking the throng. 
 Then he proceeded with his discourse, beseeching them and 
 imploring that they should suffer him to speak (when they 
 were no longer disposed to give him audience). He never 
 showed fear of these outcries, but his mind remained firm and 
 fearless. Indeed his argument is worthy of remembrance.
 
 50 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 For 340 days he lay in the bottom of a foul, dark tower. He 
 himself complained of the harshness of this treatment, but as- 
 serted that he, as became a good and brave man, did not com- 
 plain because he had to bear these indignities, but because he 
 wondered at the inhumanity shown him. In the dungeon he 
 had not only no facilities for reading, but not even for seeing. 
 I leave out of consideration the mental anxiety which must 
 have tortured him daily, all memory of which he sought to 
 put aside. Yet when he cited in testimony of his opinions so 
 many of the most learned and wisest of men, and brought for- 
 ward so many doctors of the church in proof of his contention, 
 that it would have been sufficient and more than sufficient, if 
 during all this time, with perfect comfort and quiet he could 
 have devoted himself to the study of wisdom; his voice was 
 full, clear and soft; his posture oratorical with a certain dignity, 
 expressing indignation and moving pity, which, however, he 
 neither sought, nor desired to obtain. He stood there fearless 
 and unterrified, not alone despising death, but seeking it; so 
 that you would have said he was another Cato. O, man 
 worthy of the everlasting memory of men! I praise not that 
 which he advanced, if anything, against the institutions of the 
 church; but I admire his learning, his comprehensive knowl- 
 edge, his eloquence, his persuasiveness of speech, his clever- 
 ness in reply. But I fear that nature had given all these 
 things to him for his destruction. A space of two days was 
 given him for repentance. Many of the most learned men ap- 
 proached him, seeking to move him from his way of thinking. 
 Among them the Cardinal of Florence went to him, in order 
 to bring him into the right path. But when with even greater 
 obstinacy he persevered in his errors, and was condemned by 
 the council for heresy and burned with fire, he went to his fate 
 with joyful and willing countenance; for he feared not the fire, 
 nor any kind of torture or of death- None of the Stoics ever 
 suffered death with a mind so steadfast and brave, so that he 
 seemed to have longed for it. When he came to the place of 
 death, he laid aside his garments. Then kneeling down, on 
 bended knee he saluted the stake, to which he had been boui d. 
 He was bound first with wet ropes, then with a chain, naked
 
 LEON BATTISTA ALBBRTI. 51 
 
 to the stake, and about him were placed great pieces of wood 
 up to his breast, with stakes driven about. When the fire was 
 brought he began to sing a hymn, which the smoke and fire 
 scarcely interrupted. But what most showed his strength of 
 courage was this: when the executioners wished to start the 
 fire behind his back (that he might not see it), " Come here," 
 he said, "and light the fire in front of me. If I had been 
 afraid of it, I should never have come to this place (which it 
 was possible to avoid)." In this manner a man worthy (ex- 
 cept in respect of faith), was burned. I saw this death, and 
 watched its stages, one by one. Whether moved by perfidy or 
 stubbornness, you would surely have said that this was the 
 end of a man schooled in philosophy. I have chatted to you 
 so at length, because of idleness, for doing nothing, I wished 
 something to do, and to tell you of these things, so like the 
 histories of the ancients. For not Mutius himself suffered his 
 arm to burn with such high courage as did this man his whole 
 body. Nor did Socrates drink the poison so willingly as he 
 accepted fire. But enough of this. Be economical of my 
 words, if I have been too long. The affair really demands a 
 longer description; but I do not wish to be verbose. Farewell, 
 my excellent Leonardo. Constance, the third day before the 
 Calends of June; the same day on which this Jerome suffered 
 the penalty of heresy. Farewell, and love me. 
 
 LEON BATTISTA ALBERTI. 
 
 Place and time of birth undetermined. Thought to be Venice, in 
 1404. Alberti's talents covered a wide range of subjects. He is known 
 as a writer of Latin verse, as a musician and as an architect. Employed 
 by Nicholas V. in the restoration of the papal palace and of other Roman 
 buildings. Died at Rome in 1472 (1484). Chief works are upon Sculp- 
 ture, Painting and Architecture. 
 
 EXTRACT FROM THE Trattato del Governo della Famiglia.* 
 Children. What things do you find necessary to a family ? 
 Agnolo. Many things. Good fortune, which is not wholly 
 within the power of men. 
 
 * Edited by Antonio Fortunate Stella, Milan, 1811. Attributed o 
 Agnolo Pandolfiui.
 
 52 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 Children. But those which are within the power of men, 
 what are they ? 
 
 Agnolo. They are: to possess a home, where the family may 
 be gathered together; to have wherewith to feed the children; 
 to be able to clothe them, and to give them learning and good 
 manners. For nothing appears to me so necessary to the fam- 
 ily as to cause the young people to be studious and virtuous, 
 reverent, and willing to hearken to advice; for when reverence 
 and obedience are lacking in the young, then vice grows in 
 them from day to day, either as the result of a depraved nature, 
 or through evil conversation and waste and corrupt habits. 
 Everywhere you see children full of gentleness, pure and dili- 
 gent, turn out badly through the negligence of him who has 
 failed to govern them properly. It is not the sole duty of the 
 father of the family to keep the granary and cellar of the house 
 filled, but also to watch and to observe, to note what company 
 his children keep, to examine their habits at home and abroad, 
 and to detect all evil practices; to constrain his children with 
 suitable words rather than with anger and contempt; to make 
 use of authority rather than force, to refrain from severity and 
 harshness when there is no need; always to conserve the wel- 
 fare and repose of the whole household; to rule the minds of 
 children and nephews so that they shall not depart from the 
 duty and the rule of life; to provide in advance against every 
 danger which may threaten the family, kindling in their child- 
 ish minds love and appreciation of things of worth and value, 
 rooting up all vices, putting before them the good example of 
 his own life, and above all restraining the excessive license of 
 youth. So ought children to be reared and educated. 
 
 Children. We pray God to give us grace so to do. 
 
 Nephews. And how will you observe good husbandry in 
 this ? We are a large family, we have great expenses, and we 
 all desire to be like you, good managers, moderate, honest, 
 continent, to live sumptuously at home and decently abroad. 
 How ought we then to do? 
 
 Agnolo. As best you may, according as the time is one of 
 prosperity or adversity. I am of the opinion that in our living 
 and in all our affairs reason avails more than chance; and pru-
 
 LEON BATTISTA ALBERTI. 53 
 
 dence holds its own against misfortune. Flee idleness, wan- 
 tonness, treachery, indolence and unbridled greed. Be gentle, 
 self-possessed, humane, benevolent and free from ignorance, 
 vice, insolence and pride, and with graciousness and tact seek 
 the good will and affection of your fellow citizens. Envy 
 ceases where pomp ends. Hatred is extinguished where distinc- 
 tions of rank cease. Enmity is spent where no offense is given. 
 Strive to be that which you wish to appear. 
 
 Children and Nephews. These are the best of precepts; but 
 in order that we may completely master your teaching and 
 doctrine, suppose the case that you are of our age, that you 
 have wife and -children (and having once possessed them you 
 are experienced); in what manner would you arrange your af- 
 fairs how would you manage ? 
 
 Agnolo. My children and nephews, if I were of your age I 
 should be capable of many things, which now I may not un- 
 dertake. The first thing would be to have a home well ordered 
 and appointed, where I should be able to live with all conven- 
 ience and comfort, without having to move about. Moving 
 about is too harmful, too full of expense, discomfort and vexation. 
 Things are lost, mislaid, spoiled, broken, and through these 
 evils the mind is greatly disturbed and disconcerted, and it 
 takes some time before you are again well settled. I leave out 
 of account the expense of rearranging the home. I should 
 take care to occupy a clean and wholesome house, well aired 
 (for the age of childhood has great reason to fear bad air and 
 conditions unfavorable to health), and I should observe to what 
 age people had lived there, and whether the old people had 
 remained well and vigorous. My children, the well man always 
 wins in any case whatsoever ; the sick man may never call himself 
 rich. 
 
 Children and Nephews. And what seems to you to be requi- 
 site to health ? 
 
 Agnolo. First of all, that which we are obliged to use just 
 as we find it, whether we will or not. This is the air. Next, 
 the other things necessary to our existence : good and sound 
 food, and especially good wine. 
 
 Children. And in that place you would live?
 
 54 SOURCE-BOOK OP THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 Agnolo. Yes, where I thought it best for me to be, for me 
 and mine. 
 
 Children and Nephews. What would you do if you wished 
 to change your residence ? Would you buy a home or rent 
 one? 
 
 Agnolo. Certainly I should not rent; for in time a man finds 
 that he has bought a house and still has it not. If I had not 
 one already, I should buy an airy, spacious house, of a size to 
 contain my family, and more, in order that I might entertain 
 one of my friends, if he should come to see me; and I should 
 spend upon this purchase as little money as possible. 
 
 Children. Would you take a house in an out-of-the-way 
 place, where houses are cheaper? 
 
 Agnolo. Do not say cheaper. Nothing is dear, if the money 
 is spent on something that suits. Therefore, I should seek to 
 buy a house that would suit me; but I should not pay for it 
 more than it was worth, nor should I show myself an eager 
 purchaser. I should choose a house located in a good neigh- 
 borhood, in a well-known street, where respectable people 
 were living, whose friendship I might acquire without harm, 
 so that my wife might enjoy the virtuous companionship of 
 their ladies. Moreover, I should inform myself as to who had 
 previously dwelt there, and I should insist upon knowing 
 whether they had lived there sound and well. There are some 
 houses in which it seems that no one can live happily. 
 
 Children. Indeed you speak truly. We remember to have 
 heard of a beautiful and imposing house. A certain one who 
 lived there lost everything; another remained there alone; an- 
 other was driven forth with much disgrace. All turned out 
 badly. 
 
 Nephews. Surely these observations of yours are worth at- 
 tention: to have a suitable house in a good and reputable neigh- 
 borhood. And having this, how would you arrange your other 
 economies ? 
 
 Agnolo. I should see to it that all of mine should live under 
 the same roof; that they should be warmed at the same fire 
 and seated at the same table. 
 
 Children. We can imagine your pleasure in seeing yourself
 
 I<EON BATTISTA ALBERTI. 55 
 
 in their midst, father of all, surrounded, loved, revered as the 
 master of all; and in the training of youth, which is for the 
 aged the highest pleasure, since virtuous children afford to 
 their parents much aid, honor and praise. In the care of the 
 father lies the virtue of the children. A careful and painstak- 
 ing father ennobles his family. 
 
 Agnolo. That is true; but, believe me, there is yet a greater 
 economy in living behind a single threshold. 
 
 Children. You say this? 
 
 Agnolo. And I will make you certain of it. Tell me: if 
 now it were night and dark, and some one should light a candle 
 in your midst, you, I and these others would enjoy the light 
 sufficiently to read, write and do whatever might be necessary. 
 But if we go apart, one hither and one thither, each wishing 
 to use the light as before, do you believe that one burning 
 candle will suffice for us, as when we were all together ? 
 
 Children. Truly not. Who can doubt it? For where for- 
 merly one light burned for all, now divided and gone asunder, 
 there would be need of three. 
 
 Agnolo. And now if it should be very cold, and together we 
 had taken coals and lighted a great fire, and now you wish to 
 have your part of it elsewhere, and these others carry their 
 portions away, will you be able to warm yourself as well, or 
 worse ? 
 
 Children. Worse. 
 
 Agnolo. So it happens with the family. Many things there 
 are that suffice for many persons living together, but which are 
 insufficient for a few here and there in various places. Quite 
 other power and favor, quite other praise and reputation, quite 
 other authority and credit will he enjoy who finds himself sur- 
 rounded with his family. He will be more feared and more 
 esteemed than he who goes forth with few about him and with- 
 out the company of his own people. Much more will the father 
 of a family be recognized and regarded, whom many of his 
 people follow, than he who goes alone. The abundance of 
 persons constitutes the value of the family. Let not the family 
 be divided, for where formerly it was large, there will be but 
 two small groups. The utility and honor of the whole family
 
 56 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 ought to be preferred to that of the individual. The head that is 
 not supported by all the members falls. The divided family is 
 not alone diminished, but every social grade and favor hereto- 
 fore acquired is lost. Every one respects a united family; two 
 discordant families enjoy no regard. I wish now to speak as 
 a man rather practical than learned, and to adduce reasons in 
 support of my proposition. For two tables two cloths are 
 spread, two fires are kindled, and two fires consume two por- 
 tions of wood. For two tables two servants are employed, 
 where for one table one servant answers. I need not follow 
 out the thought; you can complete it for yourselves. In divid- 
 ing one family into two it is necessary to double the expense; 
 and there are many other disadvantages, more evident in prac- 
 tice than in theory. This dividing of the family has never 
 pleased me, nor does it please me now; this going and coming 
 through many doorways. Nor would my spirit permit that 
 you should live without me, under another roof. 
 
 Children. For all of which we honor you. 
 
 Agnolo. Yes, my children, under one roof the family lives 
 to best advantage. However, when the children are grown up, 
 or the increasing family makes the dwelling too small to hold 
 them all, let those who go away at least depart of their own 
 pleasure. 
 
 Children. O speech worthy of being held perpetually in 
 memory ! With one will shall the family stand ! But then 
 when all are at home and desire to sup and dine ? 
 
 Agnolo. Let it be so arranged that they may sup and dine 
 in due season and well. 
 
 Nephews. Do you mean by that to eat of good food ? 
 
 Agnolo. Good, my children, and abundant. Not indeed 
 pea-fowls, capons, partridges, pheasants, and other choice food 
 of the kind, which are fit for invalids or for banquets; but let a 
 substantial table be prepared, so that no one of us, accustomed 
 to our fare, may desire to dine elsewhere, hoping thereby the 
 better to satisfy his hunger. Let the home table be well sup- 
 plied with wine and bread. Let the wine be honest, and the 
 bread as well, and with these pure and abundant condiments. 
 
 Nephews. That is a good idea. And would you buy these 
 things from day to day ?
 
 LEON BATTISTA AI.BERTI. 57 
 
 Agnolo. I should not buy them at all, for that would not 
 be economy. Whoever sells his things, sells only those he no 
 longer cares to retain. Who, think you, will deprive his house 
 of the best rather than the worst, and that which he deems it 
 no longer prudent to retain ? In some cases, however, from 
 need of money, the better articles are sold. 
 
 Nephews. We are persuaded of it, and he who would be 
 prudent will sell the least valuable first, and when he sells the 
 better articles, he will sell them for more than cost. 
 
 Agnolo. True. It is desirable, however, to have at hand 
 the things that are needed, to have tested them and to know 
 their season; so that I am better pleased to have them in the 
 house than to seek them elsewhere. 
 
 Children. Would you wish to have in the house a whole 
 year's consumption at one time? 
 
 Agnolo. I should like to have in the house that which is 
 needed, and that which can be kept without risk, annoyance 
 or extra labor, or without giving cause for accidents or too 
 much lumbering up the house. That which would not keep I 
 should sell, and refurnish myself from time to time, for it is 
 better to leave the labor and risk of these things to others until 
 the time of their use. 
 
 Nephews. Would you sell that which you had previously 
 bought ? 
 
 Agnolo. Insomuch as I might do so, if by keeping it I 
 should incur loss. If I had my choice I should not wish to 
 sell this or that article, because these things belong to low and 
 mercenary occupations. Economy demands that sometimes 
 you should lay in a large supply and that you should furnish 
 yourself with everything in season. Still I tell you that I 
 should not like to be obliged to pay out my ready cash every 
 year. 
 
 Children. We do not see how that can be avoided. 
 
 Agnolo. I will show you. I should manage to have an es- 
 tate, which, with less expense than buying in the market, 
 would keep the house supplied with grain, wine, oats, wood, 
 fodder and the like. Then I should raise sheep, poultry, 
 pigeons, and even fish. I should buy this property out of my
 
 58 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 capital, and not hire it, for then it would be mine and my chil- 
 dren's and my nephews' as well; so that we should have more 
 interest in its care, and in seeing that it was well cultivated, 
 since my successors in their time would reap the fruits of my 
 planting. 
 
 Nephews. Would you expect to gather from your land in a 
 single location grain, wine, oil, fodder and wood? 
 
 Agnolo. Indeed I should. 
 
 Children. To grow good wine side-hills and a southern ex- 
 posure are necessary. To grow good grain requires flat land, 
 mellow and light. Good wood grows on the mountains and on 
 steep places; hay in cool, damp meadows. Do you expect to 
 find such a diversity in any one locality? Are there indeed 
 many localities adapted at once to the vine, to grain crops, to 
 wood and pasturage ? And if you found such a place, do you 
 believe you could acquire it, except at a high price ? 
 
 Agnolo. I believe it would cost dear. But I remember that 
 in the vicinity of Florence there are many sites in crystalline 
 air, charming country, fine view, few fogs and harmful winds, 
 good water, everything healthful, pure and good; and many 
 handsome houses, like seignorial palaces (many are built like 
 fortresses like castles), superb and splendid edifices. I should 
 seek an estate, such that, taking there a measure of salt, I 
 should be able to feed my family the whole year through, and 
 give them the whole year what they needed if not all, at least 
 the necessary things, such as bread, wine, oil, wood and corn. 
 To see that nothing was lacking I should often inspect the 
 fields, and indeed the whole estate; and I should prefer to have 
 it all together, or at least the separate portions not far distant 
 from each other, in order to be able the more easily to go over 
 it both on horse and afoot. 
 
 Children. A good idea, for then the laborers from one end 
 to the other would not neglect their tasks, and then you would 
 not have trouble with them so often. 
 
 Agnolo. It is beyond belief how roguery has grown amongst 
 the peasantry. Their every thought is to deceive us; and you 
 may be sure they never err on the side of their own disadvan- 
 tage in your dealings with them. They always see to it that
 
 SYLVIUS. 59 
 
 something of your share remains with them. In the first place 
 the peasant asks you to buy his ox, or his sheep, goat, swine 
 or horse. Then he demands a loan to satisfy his creditors; 
 something more to clothe his family, a dowry for his daughter, 
 something to rebuild his cottage or other buildings, farming 
 utensils to be replaced, and he never ceases with his complaints, 
 And when he has been well paid, better perhaps than his mas- 
 ter, he still continues to lament and to plead poverty. Some- 
 thing he will always be in want of. and he never talks w ith 
 you that it does not cost you something. If the harvest is 
 abundant, he always retains the better share for himself. If, 
 on account of bad weather or any other cause, the harvest fails, 
 he sets aside for you the damaged portion, and reserves the 
 greater part of the useful product for himself ; the useless and 
 injured he always leaves for you. 
 
 Nephews. Then it would be better to spend your money in 
 town, in furnishing your house, than to have to do with such 
 persons. 
 
 Agnolo. Nay, it is useful, my children, to have to do with 
 such persons, and to deal with rustic dispositions, in order that 
 you may better understand how to deal with your fellow-citi- 
 zens of equal rank. The country people teach us not to be 
 negligent, and if you are careful in your own affairs neither yout 
 farmers nor other people will be able to cheat you much, and you 
 will not be obliged to endure their malice. Indeed, you may 
 laugh at it. 
 
 AENEAS SYL VIUS. 
 
 Born at Corsignano, near Siena, 1405. Studied at the universities of 
 Siena and Florence. Attended the council of Basel as secretary to the 
 bishop of Fermo. Visited England and Scotland on papal missions. 
 Attached himself to the court of the Emperor Frederick, at Vienna. Ef- 
 fected the compromise of 1447 between Emperor and Pope. Made 
 bishop of Trieste by Nicholas V. Elected to the papacy, 1458. Died at 
 Ancona, 1464, while endeavoring to set in motion a crusade against the 
 Turks. His principal writings are the Commentaries, the Epistles, var- 
 ious treatises on the history of Germany and on the geography of Europe.
 
 60 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 EXTRACT FROM De Liberorum Educatione.* 
 
 2. As regards a boy's physical training, we must bear in 
 mind that we aim at implanting habits which will prove bene- 
 ficial during life. So let him cultivate a certain hardness which 
 rejects excess of sleep and idleness in all its forms. Habits of 
 indulgence such as the luxury of soft beds, or the wearing of 
 silk instead of linen next the skin, tend to enervate both body 
 and mind. Too much importance can hardly be attached to 
 right bearing and gesture. Childish habits of playing with the 
 lips and features should be early controlled. A boy should be 
 taught to hold his head erect, to look straight and fearlessly 
 before him, and to bear himself with dignity, whether walking, 
 standing or sitting. In ancient Greece we find that both phil- 
 osophers and men of affairs Socrates, for instance, and Chry- 
 sippus, or Philip of Macedon deemed this matter worthy of 
 their concern, and therefore it may well be thought deserving 
 of ours. Games and exercises which develop the muscular 
 activities and the general carriage of the person should be en- 
 couraged by every teacher. For such physical trai ing not 
 only cultivates grace of attitude, but secures the healthy play 
 of our bodily organs and establishes the constitution. 
 
 Every youth destined to exalted position should further be 
 trained in military exercises. It will be your destiny to defend 
 Christendom against the Turk. It will thus be an essential 
 part of your education that you be early taught the use of the 
 bow, of the sling, and of the spear; that you drive, ride, leap 
 and swim. These are honorable accomplishments in every one, 
 and therefore not unworthy of the educator's care. Ponder 
 the picture which Virgil gives of the youth of the Itali, skilled 
 in all the warlike exercises of their time. Games, too, should 
 be encouraged for young children the ball, the hoop but 
 these must not be rough and coarse, but have in them an ele- 
 ment of skill. Such relaxations should form an integral part 
 of each day's occupations, if learning is not to be an object of 
 
 * Prom Woodward: Vittotino da Feltreand other Humanist Educators. 
 Cambridge, 1897. JEneas is here addressing Ladislas, the young king of 
 Bohemia and Hungary, who has sought his advice in the matter of edu- 
 cation.
 
 SYLVIUS. 6l 
 
 disgust. Just as nature and the life of man present us with 
 alterations of effort and repose toil and sleep, winter and 
 summer so we may hold, with Plato, that it is a law of our 
 being that rest from work is a needful condition of further 
 work. To observe this truth is a chief duty of the master. 
 
 In respect of eating and drinking, the rule of moderation 
 consists in rejecting anything which needlessly taxes digestion 
 and so impairs mental activity. At the same time fastidious- 
 ness must not be humored. A boy, for instance, whose lot it 
 may be to face life in the camp, or in the forest, should so dis- 
 cipline his appetite that he may eat even beef. The aim of 
 eating is to strengthen the frame; so let vigorous health reject 
 cakes or sweets, elaborate dishes of small birds or eels, which 
 are for the delicate and the weakly. Your own countrymen, 
 like all northern peoples, are, I know, sore offenders in this 
 matter cf eating and drinking. But I count upon your own 
 innate self-respect to preserve you from such bad example, and 
 to enable you to despise the sneers and complaints of those 
 around you. What but disease and decay can result from appe- 
 tite habituaUy over indulged ? Such concession to the flesh 
 stands condemned by all of the great spirits of the past In 
 Augustus Caesar, in Socrates, we have instances of entire in- 
 difference in choice of food. Caligula, Nero and Viteilius 
 serve as sufficient examples of grossly sensual tastes. To the 
 Greeks of the best age eating and drinking were only means to 
 living, not the chief end and aim of it. For they recognized, 
 with Aristotle, that in this capacity for bodily pleasures we are 
 on the same level with lower creatures. 
 
 As regards the use of wine, remember that we drink to quench 
 thirst, and that the limit of moderation is reached when the 
 edge of the intellect is dulled. A boy should be brought up to 
 avoid wine, for he possesses a store of natural moisture in the 
 blood and so rarely experiences thirst. Hence highly diluted 
 wine alone can be allowed to children, whilst women are, per- 
 haps, better without it altogether, as was the custom in Rome, 
 The abuse of wine is more common amongst northern peoples 
 than in Italy. Plato allowed its moderate enjoyment as tend- 
 ing to mental relaxation, and, indeed, temperance in the true
 
 62 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 sense is hardly consistent with the absolute prohibition of all 
 that might seduce us from our virtuous resolutions. So that a 
 young man's best security against excess may be found to lie 
 in a cautious use of wine, safeguarded by innate strength of 
 will and a watchful temper. There is no reason why social 
 feastings should not be dignified by serious conversation and 
 yet be bright and gay withal. But the body, after all, is but 
 a framework for the activities of the mind; and so we hold fast 
 to the dictum of Pythagoras, that he that pampers the body is 
 devising a prison for himself. Even if we had not the support 
 of the Ancients, it is evident to the serious mind that food and 
 clothing are worthy of regard only so far as they are indispens- 
 able to the vigorous activity of body and spirit; all beyond 
 that is trivially or effeminacy. But this is not to exclude 
 that care for the outward person which is, indeed, demanded 
 from everyone by self respect, but is peculiarly needful in a 
 prince. 
 
 3. We must now hasten on to the larger and more import- 
 ant division of our subject, that which treats of the most prec- 
 ious of all human endowments, the mind. Birth, wealth, fame, 
 health, vigor and beauty are, indeed, highly prized by man- 
 kind, but they are one and all of the nature of accidents; they 
 come and they go. But the riches of the mind are a stable 
 possession, unassailable by fortune, calumny, or time. Our 
 material wealth lies at the mercy of a successful foe, but, as 
 Stilpho said, ' War can exact no requisition from personal 
 worth.' So, too, you will remember the reply of Socrates to 
 Gorgias, applying it to your own case: ' How can I adjudge 
 the Great King happy, until I know to what he can truly lay 
 claim in character and in wisdom ? ' Lay to heart the truth 
 here conveyed: our one sure possession is character; the place 
 and fortune of men charge, it may be suddenly, profoundly; 
 nor may we, by taking thought, cunningly hedge ourselves 
 round against all the chances of life. As Solon long ago de- 
 clared, no sane man dare barter excellence for money. Nay, 
 rather, it is a function of true wisdom, as the tyrants found by 
 their experience, to enable us to bear variations of fortune. 
 Philosophy, or, in other words, the inquiry into the nature of
 
 SYLVIUS. 63 
 
 virtue, is indeed a study specially meet for princes. For 
 are in a sense the arbitary embodiment of law; a responsibility 
 which may well weigh heavily, upon them. Truly has it been 
 said that no one has greater need of a well-stored mind than 
 he whose will counts for the happiness or misery of thousands. 
 Like Solomon, he will rightly pray for wisdom in the guidance 
 of the state. 
 
 Need I, then, impress upon you the importance of the study 
 of philosophy, and of letters, without which indeed philosophy 
 itself is barely intelligible ? By this twofold wisdom a prince 
 is trained to understand the laws of God and of man; by it we 
 are, one and all, enlightened to see the realities of the world 
 around us. Literature is our guide to the true meaning of the 
 past, to a right estimate of the present, to a sound forcast of 
 the future. Where letters cease, darkness covers the land; 
 and a prince who cannot read the lessons of history is a help- 
 less prey of flattery and intrigue. 
 
 Next we ask, at what age should a boy begin the study of 
 letters? Theodosius and Eratosthenes regarded the seventh 
 year as the earliest reasonable period. But Aristophanes, fol- 
 lowed by Chrysippus and Quintilian, would have children from 
 the very cradle begin their training under nurses of skilled in- 
 telligence. In this matter of nurses the greatest care is neces- 
 sary, so subtle are the influences which affect the growing 
 mind. But above all other safeguards stands the unconscious 
 guidance of the mother, who, like Cornelia of old, must instil 
 by example a refined habit of speech and bearing. 
 
 In religion, I may assume from your Christian nurture that 
 you have learnt the Lord's Prayer, the Salutation of the 
 Blessed Virgin, the Creed, the Gospel of St. John, and certain 
 Collects. You have been taught in what consist the chief 
 Commandments of God, the gifts of the Spirit, the deadly sins; 
 the way of salvation and the doctrine of the life of the world to 
 come. This latter truth was, indeed, taught by Socrates, as 
 we know from Cicero. Nor can any earthly interest have so 
 urgent a claim upon us. We shall not value this human exist- 
 ence which has been bestowed upon us except in so far as it 
 prepares us for the future state. The fuller truth concerning
 
 64 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 this great doctrine is beyond your years; but you may, as time 
 goes on, refer to what has been laid down by the great doctors 
 of the church; and not only by. them, for, as Basil allows, the 
 poets and other authors of antiquity are saturated with the 
 same faith, and for this reason deserve our study. Literature, 
 indeed, is ever holding forth to us the lesson, ' God before all 
 else.' As a prince, moreover, your whole life and character 
 should be marked by gratitude for favors showered upon you 
 for no merit of your own, and by reverence, which, in all that 
 concerns the services, the faith, and the authority of the 
 Church, will lead you to emulate the filial obedience of Con- 
 stantine and Theodosius. For although the priesthood is com- 
 mitted to the protection of kings, it is not under their authority. 
 
 In the choice of companions be careful to seek the society 
 of those only whose example is worthy of your imitation. 
 This is indeed a matter which closely concerns your future 
 welfare. We are all, in youth especially, in danger of yielding 
 to the influence of evil example. Above all, I trust that your 
 tutors will keep you clear of that insidious form of flattery 
 which consists in agreeing with everything we may affirm or 
 propose. Extend your intimacy only to those of your own 
 years who are frank and truthful, pure in word and act, modest 
 in manner, temperate and peaceful. Seize every opportunity 
 of learning to converse in the vulgar tongues spoken in your 
 realm. It is unworthy of a prince to be unable without an in- 
 terpreter to hold intercourse with his people. Mithridates 
 could speak with his subjects of whatever province in their own 
 language; whilst neglect of this plain duty lost to the empire 
 and its German sovereigns its fair province of Italy. The ties 
 that bind monarch and people should be woven of mutual 
 affection, and how is this possible where free and intelligible 
 communication cannot exist? As Homer says, silence is be- 
 coming in a woman; but in a man, and that man a King, stand- 
 ing before his people, it is rather a shame and a disgrace. 
 
 4. But further: we must learn to express ourselves with 
 distinction, with style and manner worthy of our subject. In 
 a word, eloquence is a prime accomplishment in one immersed 
 in affairs. Ulysses, though a poor warrior, was adjudged
 
 .ENEAS SYLVIUS. 65 
 
 worthy of the arms of Achilles by virtue of his persuasive 
 speech. Cicero, too, admonishes us to the same effect: ' ]>t 
 arms to the toga yield.' But speech should ever follow upon 
 reflection; without that let a boy, nay, a man also, be assured 
 that silence is his wiser part. Such orators as Pericles or 
 Demosthenes refused to address the Assembly without oppor- 
 tunity for careful preparation. A facile orator speaks from his 
 lips, not from his heart or understanding; and forgets that 
 loquacity is not the same as eloquence. How often have men 
 cause to regret the gift of too ready speech, and ' the irrevoc- 
 able word ' of which Horace warns us. Still there is a middle 
 course; a moderation in speech, which avoids alike a Pythago- 
 rean silence and the chatter of a Thersites; and at this we 
 should aim. For without reasonable practice the faculty of 
 public speech may be found altogether wanting when the need 
 arises. The actual delivery of our utterances calls for method- 
 ical training. The shrill, tremulous tones of a girl must be 
 rigidly forbidden, as on the other hand must any tendency to 
 shout. The entire word must in every case be uttered, proper 
 value given to each syllable and each letter, with especial at- 
 tention to the final sound. Words must not, as it were, linger 
 in the throat, but be clearly emitted, both tongue and lips tak- 
 ing duly their respective parts. Your master will arrange as 
 exercises, words in which the form or connection of syllables 
 demands peculiar care in their enunciation. You remember 
 the device by which Demosthenes trained his voice to reach 
 a crowded assembly. 
 
 To express yourself, then, with grace and distinction is a 
 proper object of your ambition; and without ambition excel- 
 lence, in this or other studies, is rarely attained. But if speech 
 be, as Democritus said, the shadow of which thought and con- 
 duct are the reality, you will be warned by corrupt conversa- 
 tion to avoid the corrupt nature from which it proceeds. We 
 know that Ulysses cunningly guarded his comrades from the 
 song of the Sirens; and that St. Paul quotes Menander upon 
 the mischief wrought by 'evil communications.' But this by 
 no means implies that we must be always at the extreme of 
 seriousness in social intercourse. In conversation kindness
 
 66 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 and courtesy are always attractive; pertinacity or pretentious- 
 ness are odious; a turgid, affected style arouses contempt. In- 
 sincerity or malice are, of course, not mere defects in form but 
 positive sins. So let your address be frank, outspoken, self- 
 respecting, manly. 
 
 Nature and circumstances thus provide us with the general 
 material of speech, its topics, and the broader conditions of 
 their treatment. When, however, speech is considered as an 
 art, we find that it is the function of Grammar to order its ex- 
 pression; of Dialectic to give it point; of Rhetoric to illustrate 
 it; of Philosophy to perfect it. But before entering upon this 
 in detail we must first insist upon the overwhelming import- 
 ance of Memory, which is in truth the first condition of capacity 
 for letters. A boy should learn without effort, retain with 
 accuracy, and reproduce easily. Rightly is memory called 
 'the nursing mother of learning.' It needs cultivation, how- 
 ever, whether a boy be gifted with retentiveness or not. There- 
 fore, let some passage from poet or moralist be committed to 
 memory every day. 
 
 BARTOLOMMEO SACCHI, CALLED PLATINA. 
 
 Born at Piadena, near Cremona, about 1421. In his youth served four 
 years as a soldier; Later on studied at Mantua and attached himself to 
 Cardinal Francesco Gonzaga, who took him to Rome. Became a member 
 of the Academy of Pomponius Laetus, organized for the discovery and 
 interpretation of Roman antiquities. 1475, placed in charge of the Vati- 
 can library by Sixtus IV. Died 1481. His chief literary work is entitled: 
 In vitas summorum pontificum ad Sixtum IV. pontificem maximum, 
 Praeclarum opus. 
 
 NICHOLAS V.* 
 
 He was commendable for his liberality toward all, especially 
 Learned men, whom he advanced with Money, Court-prefer- 
 ments, and Benefices; whom he would sometimes put upon 
 
 * From the Lives of the Popes, from the time of our Saviour Jesus 
 Christ, to the Reign of Sixtus IV. Written originally in Latin, By Bap- 
 tista Platina, native of Cremona, and Translated into English ***** 
 by Sir Paul Rycant, Kt. London, Printed for C- Wilkinson, and are to 
 be Sold by A. Churchil at the Black Swan in Ave-Mary lane, 1688.
 
 BARTOLOMMEO SACCHI, GAINED PLATINA. 67 
 
 reading, publick Lectures, sometimes upon writing some new 
 thing, and sometimes upon translating Greek authors into 
 Latin, insomuch that the Greek and Latin Tongues, which had 
 lain hid for six hundred years, at last regained their splendor 
 to some considerable degree. He also sent those Learned Men 
 all over Europe to find out such books as had been lost either 
 by the negligence of Antiquity, or the brutal fury of the bar- 
 barous Nations. So that Poggius found out Quintilian, and 
 Enoch Asculanus, Marcus Coelius Appidus, as also Pomponius 
 Porphyrio, a famous Writer upon Horace. Besides, he erected 
 most stately Buildings in the City, and the Vatician; in the 
 city, a noble House for Popes, near 6*. Mary the Greater, and 
 repaired 6*. Stephen's Church, that stands in the Mount di S. 
 Giovanni, but built S. Theodores, that stands upon the plain 
 between the Palazzo Maggiore and the Campidoglio, from the 
 ground. He likewise covered the roof of S. Mary the Round 
 which stands in the middle of the City, an ancient Temple 
 built by Agrippa, with Lead, and in the Vatician he not only 
 beautified the Pope's House after that manner which we see, 
 but he began the Walls of the Vatican, very large and high, 
 laying foundations for Towers, and a vast Superstructure, 
 whereby to keep the Enemy from plundering the Pope's House, 
 or St. Peter s Church, as formerly was often used. Further- 
 more, in the upper end of S. Peter 1 s he began a great Gallery, 
 to make the Church more glorious, and hold more People. 
 He also repaired Ponte Molle: and built a fine house at Viterbo, 
 near the Baths. Nor only so, but he lent many others money 
 who were a-building in the City; and by his order the Streets 
 were paved. He was very Charitable, especially to Persons of 
 Quality if they happened to be reduced to Poverty; and gave 
 poor Maids a competent Portion when they were married. 
 He always received foreign Embassadors very honorably and 
 freely. He was easily anger'd, to say the truth, being a chole- 
 rick Man, but he was easily pleased again; and that gave some 
 ill-natur'd People the occasion to Carp at him, though he de- 
 served extremely well of God and Man. Then he was so far 
 from Covetousness, that he never sold any Place, nor ever was 
 guilty of Simony. He was kind to them, who deserved well
 
 68 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 of himself and the Church of God, a lover of Justice, the 
 Author and preserver of Peace, merciful to Offenders, a diligent 
 observer of Ceremonies, and would omit nothing belonging to 
 Divine Worship. The Vessels of Gold and Silver, Crosses set 
 with Jewels, Priestly Robes adoru'd with Gold and Pearls, the 
 arras Hangings interwoven with Gold and Silver, and a Papal 
 Crown, are yet to be seen as Monuments of his Munificence. 
 I do not mention the many holy Books that were transcribed 
 by his Order and Embossed with Gold and Silver: but you 
 may see the Pope's Library, which was wonderfully augmented 
 by his care, and at his charge. He was so kind to the Relig- 
 ious that he gave 'em a great deal of money and Ecclesiastical 
 Benefices besides; and canonized S. Bernardine of Siena, a 
 Frier Minor, because by his Preaching, Admonitions, Reproofs, 
 he had almost extinguish'd the Factions of Italy, that is to 
 say, the Guelphs and the Gibelline Faction, and shew'd 
 Christians the way to live well and happily: whose Body is now 
 to be seen, and daily visited with great veneration, at Aquila. 
 
 PIUS II. 
 
 ******* 
 Moreover, he so ordered his method of living that he could 
 never be accused of idleness or sloth. He rose as soon as 'twas 
 day for his health sake, and, having said his Prayers very de- 
 voutly, went about his worldly affairs. When he had done his 
 morning's work, and walked about the Gardens for his recrea- 
 tion, he went to Dinner; in which he used an indifferent sort 
 of Diet; not curious and dainty. For he seldom bid 'em get 
 him this or that particular Dish, but whatever they set before 
 him, he ate of. He was very abstemious, and when he did 
 drink wine, it was always diluted with Water, and pleasant 
 rather than rough upon the Palate. After meals he either dis- 
 coursed or disputed half an hour with his Chaplains, and then 
 going into his Bed- Chamber, he took a nap; after which he 
 went to Prayers again, and then wrote or read, as long as his 
 business would permit. The same also he did after Supper; 
 for he both read and dictated till midnight as he lay in his Bed; 
 nor did he sleep above five or six hours. He was a short man,
 
 BARTOLOMMEO SACCHI, CALLED PLATINA. 69 
 
 gray-haired before his time, and had a wrinkled face before he 
 was old. In his aspect he bore severity tempered with good- 
 nature, and in his Garb was neither finical, nor negligent, but 
 so contrived it, as to be consistent with the pains which he 
 usually took. He could patiently endure both hunger and 
 thirst, because he was naturally very strong; and yet his long 
 journeys, frequent labour, and Watchings had impair'd him. 
 His usual Diseases were the Cough, the Stone, and Gout, 
 wherewith he was often so tormented, that nobody could say 
 he was alive but by his Voice. And even in his sickness he 
 was very accessible, but sparing of Words; and unwilling to 
 deny any Man's Petition. He laid out all the Money he got 
 together; and did neither love Gold nor contemn it; but would 
 never be by, whilst it was told out, or laid up. He seemed 
 not to cherish the Wits of his Age, because three grevious 
 Wars which he had undertook had so continually exhausted 
 the Pontifical Treasury that he was oftentimes much in Debt; 
 and yet he preferred many learned men to places both in the 
 Court, and Church. He would willingly hear an Oration, or 
 a Poem, and always submitted his own Writings to the judg- 
 ment of the Learned. He hated Lyars and Sycophants, was 
 soon angry and soon pleased again. He pardon' d those that 
 reviled, or scoflF'd at him, unless they injur'd the See Aposto- 
 lick; the Dignity whereof he always had such a respect for, as 
 upon that account often to fall out with great Kings and 
 Princes. He was very kind to his Household Servants; for 
 those that he found in an errour, through folly or ignorance, 
 he admonished like a Father. He never reproved an}' one for 
 speaking or thinking ill of him; because in a free city he de- 
 sired every body should utter their minds. And when one 
 told him, that he had an ill Report, he reply 'd: go unto the 
 Campo di Fiore, and you'll hear a great many talk against me. 
 If at any time he had a mind to change the Air of Rome for a 
 better, he went especially in the Summer, to Tivoli, or his own 
 Country, Siena. But he was mightily pleased with the retire- 
 ment of an Abby in Siena, which is very delightful, and cool 
 too by reason of its situation and the shady Groves that are 
 about it. He frequented the baths at Macerata and Petriolana
 
 7O SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 for his health's sake. He used thin Cloths, and his Expences 
 in Silver look'd more frugal than Prince like. For his whole 
 delight (when he had leisure) was in writing and reading: be- 
 cause he valued good Books more than precious Stones; for in 
 them he said there was great plenty of Gems. He so far con- 
 temn' d a splendid Table, that he went often times to Fountains, 
 Groves, and Country recesses for his own humour, where he 
 eutertain'd himself not like a Pope, but an honest humble 
 Rustick. Nor were there wanting some who found fault with 
 this his frequent change of places, especially his Courtiers; be- 
 cause no Pope had ever done so before him, unless in time of 
 War, or of a Plague. But he always slighted their Cavils, and 
 said, that for all his pleasure he never omitted any thing that 
 befitted the dignity of a Pope, or tended to the good of the 
 Court. In all places he Sealed, heard Causes, Cexisur'd, 
 Answer'd, Asserted aud Confuted; to give full satisfaction to 
 all sorts of men. He could not eat willing alone, and therefore 
 invited either the Cardinal of Spoleta, of Trani, or of Pavz'a, 
 commonly to Dine or Sup with him. At Supper he used to 
 discourse of Learning, and rubb'd up his old Notions of the 
 Ancients; shewing how commendable each of 'em was in this 
 or that particular. 
 
 ^ * * >K * * * 
 
 When he was a youth indeed and not yet initiated into 
 Divinity, he set out poems that were rather light, and jocular, 
 than serious and grave: and yet sometimes even in them he 
 was elevated, nor did he want satyrical sharpness amidst his 
 merry Conceits. There are Epigrams of his extaot, that are 
 full of Wit, and he is said to have written about three thousand 
 Verses, which were lost most part of 'em at Basil. The re- 
 mainder of his life he wrote Prose onely, his grand affairs 
 rather inclining him to it; but he also loved a mixed stile, more 
 fit for Philosophy. He set forth several Books of Dialogues 
 about the Power of the Council at Basil, about the Rise of the 
 Nile, of Huutiiig, of Destiny, of God's Prescience, and of the 
 Heresie in Bohemia. He left an imperfect Dialogue which he 
 began against the Turks in defence of Christianity. He 
 digested his Epistles into their several occasions and seasons
 
 BARTOLOMMEO SACCHI, CALLED PLATINA. 7* 
 
 when they were written: and those that he wrote when he was" 
 a Layman, a Clergy, a Bishop, or Pope he put into distinct 
 Tomes: wherein he excites Kings, Princes, and others to en- 
 gage in the War for Religion. There is an Epistle of his ex-- 
 taut which he wrote to the Turk, to persuade him from 
 Mahotnetanism to the Christian Faith. He also wrote a Book 
 about the Life of Courtiers; as likewise a Grammar for Ladis- 
 laus the young King of Hungary. He farthermore composed 
 thirty two Orations, exhorting Kings, Princes, and Common- 
 wealths to Peace, and in defence of Religion, to promote the 
 quiet and Concord of the whole World. He perfected the His- 
 tory of Bohemia, but left that of Austria imperfect. And 
 though he was upon a History of all the remarkable actions of 
 his Time, yet he was never able, for his business, to finish it. 
 He wrote twelve Books and began the thirteenth of things 
 done by himself. His Stile was soft and easie, in which he 
 made several excellent and pertinent Sermons. For he could 
 readily move the Affections with handsom and graceful Ex- 
 pressions. He very aptly describes situations of Places and 
 Rivers, assuming various ways of Eloquence, as the occasion 
 required. He was well acquainted with Antiquity; nor could 
 any Town be mention'd, but he could tell its rise and situa- 
 tion: besides that he would give an account in what Age 
 famous Men flourished. He would sometimes take notice of 
 Mimicks for his pleasure: and left many Sayings behind him, 
 of which I thought fit to add some to this account of his Life: to 
 wit: That the Divine Nature was better understood by Believ- 
 ing than by Disputing. That all sects though confirm'd by 
 humane Authority yet wanted Reason. That the Christian 
 ought to be received upon its owu credit, though it had never 
 been back'd with Miracles. That there were three Persons in 
 the Godhead, not proved to be so by Reason, but by consider- 
 ing who said so. That those men who pretended to measure 
 the Heavens and the Earth were rather bold than certain what 
 they did was right. That to find cut the motion of the Stars 
 had more pleasure in it, than profit. That God's Friends en- 
 joy'd both this Life and that to come. That without Vertue 
 there was no true Joy. That as a covetous man is never satis-
 
 72 SOURCE-BOOK OP THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 fied with Money, so a Learned Man should not be with knowl- 
 dg; But that he who knew never so much might yet find 
 somewhat to be studied. That common Men should value 
 Learning as Silver, Noblemen as Gold, and Princes as Jewels. 
 That good Physitians did not seek the money but the health of 
 the party diseas'd. That a florid Speech did not move wise 
 men but Fools. That those Laws are Sacred which restrain 
 Licentiousness. That the Laws had Power over the Common- 
 alty, but were feeble to the greater sort. That great Contro- 
 versies were decided by the Sword and not by the Laws. A 
 Citizen should look upon his Family as subject to the City, the 
 City to his Country, his Country to the World, and the World 
 to God. That the chief place with Kings was slippery. That 
 as all Rivers run into the Sea, so do all Vices into Courts. 
 That Flatterers draw Kings whither they please. That Kings 
 hearken to none more easily than to Sycophants. That the 
 tongue of a Flatterer was a King's greatest Plague. That a 
 King who would trust nobody was good for nothing, and he 
 that believed everybody was no better. That it is necessary 
 he that governs many should himself be ruled by many. That 
 he deserv'd not the name of a King who measured the Publick 
 by his private advantage. That he who neglected holy Duties 
 did not deserve the Church Revenue, nor a King his Taxes, 
 that did not constant Justice. He said those that went to Law 
 were the Birds; the Court, the Field; the Judg, the Net; and 
 the Lawyers, the Fowlers. That men ought to be presented 
 to Dignities and not Dignities to the Men. That some Men 
 had Offices and did not deserve 'em, whilst others deserv'd 'em 
 and had 'em not. That the burthen of a Pope was heavy, but 
 he was happy who bore it stoutty. That an illiterate Bishop 
 was like an Ass. That ill Physicians kill'd the body and 
 ignorant Priests the Soul. That a wandring Monk was the 
 Devil's Bondslave. That Virtue had enriched the Clergy, but 
 Vice made 'em poor. That there was great reason for the pro- 
 hibiting of Priests to marry, but greater for allowing it again. 
 That no treasure was preferable to a faithful friend. That Life 
 was like a friend, and Envy like Death. That he cherishes an 
 Enemy who pardons his Son too often. That a covetous Man
 
 VESPASIANO DA BISTICCI. 73 
 
 never pleases any body but by his Death. That Men's faults 
 are conceal'd by Liberality, and discover'd by Avarice. That 
 it was a slavish Vice to tell Lyes. That the Use of Wine had 
 augmented the Cares and the Distempers of Mankind. That 
 a Man ought to take as much Wine as would raise and not 
 overwhelm his Soul. That Lust did sully and stain every age 
 of Man, but quite extinguished old Age. That Gold itself and 
 Jewels could not purchase Content. That it was pleasant to 
 the Good, but terrible to the Bad, to Die. That a noble Death 
 was to be preferr'd before a dishonorable Life in the Opinion 
 of all Philosophers. 
 
 VESPASIANO DA BISTICCI. 
 
 Born in Florence, 1421. Died 1498. Little is known of Vespasiano's 
 life beyond the fact that he was a book-seller, and in this manner came 
 in contact with the leading humanists and patrons of learning of his 
 time. 
 
 From Life of Nicholas V.The Papal Library* 
 
 XXIV. At this time came the year of jubilee, and since it 
 was the true jubilee, that is, at the end of a period of fifty years, 
 according to the law of the Church, the concourse of people at 
 Rome was such that no one had ever known a greater. It was 
 a wonderful thing to see the great assemblage of people who 
 came. In Rome and Florence the streets were so crowded that 
 the people seemed like swarms of ants; and at the bridge of 
 Sant' Angelo there was such a crowd of people of all national- 
 ities, that they were jammed together, and unable to move in 
 any direction. So great was the crowd, indeed, that in the 
 struggle between those who came to seek indulgences and those 
 who were already at the place, more than two hundred persons, 
 male and female, lost their lives. When Pope Nicholas, who 
 felt much anxiety in regard to these matters, heard of the ac- 
 cident, he was much displeased, took provisions to prevent its 
 recurrence, and caused to be built at the approach to the bridge 
 two small churches in memory of so great a disaster as was this 
 
 * Vite di Vomini illustri del Secolo XV. Ed. Adolfo Bartoli. Flor- 
 ence, 1859.
 
 74 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 destruction of so many men upon the occasion of the jubilee, 
 and he provided for their burial. 
 
 XXV. A great quantity of money came by this means to 
 the Apostolic See, and with this the pope commenced building 
 in many places, and sent for Greek and Latin books, wher- 
 ever he was able to find them, without regard to price. He 
 gathered together a large band of writers, the best that he could 
 find, and kept them in constant employment. He also sum- 
 moned a number of learned men, both for the purpose of com- 
 posing new works, and of translating such works as were not 
 already translated, giving them most abundant provision for 
 their needs meanwhile; and when the works were translated 
 and brought to him, he gave them large sums of money, in 
 order that they should do more willingly that which they un- 
 dertook to do. He made great provision for the needs of 
 learned men. He gathered together great numbers of books 
 upon every subject, both Greek and L,atin, to the number of 
 5000 volumes. So at his death it was found by inventory that 
 never since the time of Ptolemy had half the number of books 
 of every kind been brought together. All books he caused to 
 be copied, without regard to what it cost him, and there were 
 few places where his Holiness had not copiers at work. When 
 he could not find a book, nor secure it in any way, he had it 
 copied. After he had assembled at Rome, as I said above, 
 many learned men at large salaries, he wrote to Florence to 
 Messer Giannozzo Manet ti, that he should come to Rome to 
 translate and compose for him. And when Manetti left Flor- 
 ence and came to Rome, the pope, as was his custom, received 
 him with honor, and assigned to him, in addition to his income 
 as secretary, six hundred ducats, urging him to attempt the 
 translation of the books of the Bible and of Aristotle, and to 
 complete the book already commenced by him, Contra Judeos 
 el gentes ; a wonderful work, if it had been completed, but he 
 carried it only to the tenth book. Moreover, he translated the 
 New Testament, and the Psalter De hebraica Veritate, with five 
 apologetical books in defense of this Psalter; showing that in 
 the Holy Scriptures there is cot one syllable that does not con- 
 tain the greatest of mysteries.
 
 VESPASIANO DA BISTICCI. 75, 
 
 XXVI. It was pope Nicholas' intention to found a library 
 in St. Peter's, for the general use of the whole Roman curia, 
 which would have been an admirable thing indeed, if he had 
 been able to carry it out, but death prevented his bringing it 
 to completion. He illumined the Holy Scriptures with in- 
 numerable books, which he caused to be translated; and in the 
 same way with the humanities, including certain works upon 
 grammar, of use in learning Latin. The Orthography of Mes- 
 ser Giovanni Tortelle, who was of his Holiness' household and 
 worked upon the library, a worthy book and useful to gramma- 
 rians; the Iliad of Homer; Strabo's De situ orbis he caused to 
 be translated by Guerrino, and gave him 500 florins for each 
 part, that is to say, Asia, Africa and Europe; that was in all 
 1500 florins. Herodotus and Thucydides he had translated by 
 Lorenzo Valla, and rewarded him liberally for his trouble; 
 Xenophon and Diodorus by Messer Poggio; Polybius by Nico'.6 
 Perotto, whom, when he handed it to him, he gave 500 brand 
 new papal ducats in a purse, and said to him, that it was not. 
 what he deserved, but that in time he would take care to 
 satisfy him. The work of Philo the Jew, a book of the great- 
 est worth, of which the Latin tongue had as yet no knowledge; 
 Theophrastus De Plantis, a most able work; Problemata Aristo- 
 teles ; these two were translated by Theodorus the Greek, a man 
 of great learning and eloquence. The Republic of Plato and. 
 his Laws, the Posteriora, the Ethics and Physics, Magna Mora- 
 lia, and Metaphysics, the Greater Rhetoric, George of Trebi- 
 sond. De Animalibus of Aristotle, by Theodorus, a most 
 excellent work. Sacred works, the works of Dionysius the 
 Areopagite, an admirable book, translated by Brother Ambro- 
 gio. There were before this other translations utterly barba- 
 rous. I was told by pope Nicholas that this translation was so 
 good, that one got a better idea from the simple text than from 
 the other texts accompanied with elaborate comments. The 
 wonderful book, De pr<zparatione evangelica, of Eusebius Pam- 
 phili, a work of great erudition. Many works of St Basil, of 
 St. Gregory of Nazianzus; Chrysostom on St. Matthew, about 
 eighty homilies, which had been lost for 500 years or more; for 
 twenty-five homilies were translated by Orosius * more than 500 
 * (?) Oronzio in the original.
 
 76 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 years ago, and the work was much sought for by ancients and 
 moderns; for it is written, that St. Thomas Aquinas, on his way 
 to Paris, when, as he was approaching, the city was pointed out 
 to him, said: " I would rather at this moment have St. John 
 Chrysostom on St. Matthew than Paris." Such a reputation it 
 had! This was translated by George of Trebisond. Cyril on 
 Genesis, and on St. John, excellent works. Many other works 
 translated and composed at the desire of his Holiness, of which 
 I have no knowledge. I have mentioned only those of which 
 I have knowledge. 
 
 From Life of Frederick of Urbino. The Ducal Library. 
 
 XXVIII. Coming to the holy doctors, who are in Latin, he 
 wished to have all the works of the four doctors; and what 
 letters! what books! and how excellent! having no regard for 
 expense. The four doctors having been finished, he then de- 
 sired all the works of St. Bernard, and all the holy doctors of 
 antiquity; he desired that none should be wanting: Tertullian, 
 Hilary, Remi, Hugh of St. Victor, Isidore, Anselm, Rabanus 
 Maurus, and all the holy doctors of antiquity that have ever 
 written. Coming from the Latins to the sacred writers of the 
 Greeks, which are converted into Latin, he desired in Latin 
 the works of Dionysius the Areopagite, of St. Basil, Cyril, 
 Gregory of Nazianzus, John of Damascus, John Chrysostom, 
 Gregory of Nyssa, Eusebius, all his works, Ephraem the 
 Monk, the most excellent writer Origen. Coming to the 
 Latin doctors, as well in philosophy as in theology, all the 
 works of St. Thomas Aquinas, all the works of Albertus 
 Magnus, all the works of Alexander of Hales, all the works of 
 Scotus, all the works of Bonaventura, the works of Richard of 
 Mediavilla; * all the works of the Archbishop Antoninus, and 
 all the modern doctors who are of authority, he wished to have, 
 down to the Conformities of St. Francis; all the works upon 
 civil law, most beautiful texts; all the lectures of Bartolo, in 
 kid-skin, and many writers in civil law. The Bible, most ex- 
 cellent book, he had done in two pictured volumes, as rich and 
 
 Richard of Bury (?).
 
 VESPASIANO DA BISTICCI. 77 
 
 fine as might be made, covered with gold brocade, enriched 
 with silver; and he had this done so elegantly, as the first of 
 all writings. And all the commentaries, those of the Master 
 of the Sentences, of Nicholas de Lyra, and all the doctors of 
 antiquity who have written commentaries, as well the Latins 
 as the Greeks, and all the glossary of Nicholas de Lyra; this 
 is a book like to which in this age no other has been made. 
 All the writers on astronomy and their commentaries; all the 
 works on geometry with commentaries; all the works on arith- 
 metic; all the works on architecture, all the works De re mili- 
 tari, all books treating of the machines of the ancients for 
 conquering a country, and those of the moderns, which was a 
 very remarkable volume. Books of painting, of sculpture, of 
 music, of canon law, and all the texts and lectures and the 
 Summa of the bishop of Ostia, and more works in this depart- 
 ment. Speculum, innocentice. In medicine all the works of 
 Avicenna, all the works of Hippocrates, of Galen, the Conti- 
 nente of Almansor plus quam commentum, all the works of 
 Averroes, both on logic and on natural and moral philosophy. 
 A book of all the ancient councils; all the works of Boetius, as 
 well on logic as on philosophy and on music. 
 
 XXIX. All the works of the modern writers, commencing 
 with pope Pius. He has all the works of Petrarch, both Latin 
 and vulgar; all the works of Dante, Latin and vulgar; all the 
 works of Boccaccio in Latin; all the works of messer Coluccio; 
 all the works of messer Lionardo d' Arezzo, both original and 
 translations; all the works of Brother Ambrogio, original and 
 translations; all the works of messer Gianozzo Manetti, as 
 well original as translations; all the works of Guerrino, orig- 
 inal and translations; all the works of Panormita, as well in 
 verse as in prose; all the works of messer Francisco Filelfo, 
 both in prose and in verse, original and translations; all the 
 works of Perotti, translations and original; all the works of 
 Campano, in prose and in verse; all the original works of 
 Maffeo Vegio; all the works of Nicolo Secondino, translations 
 and original, he who was interpreter for the Greeks and Latins 
 at the council of the Greeks in Florence; all the works of Pon- 
 tanus, original and translations; all the works of Bartolomeo
 
 78 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 Fazi, translations and original; all the works of Gasparino; all 
 the works of Pietro Paulo Vergerio, original and translations; 
 all the works of messer John Argyropolus, translated, that is: 
 the whole of the Philosophy and Logic of Aristotle, as well 
 moral as natural, except the Politics; all the works of messer 
 Francisco Barbaro, translations and original; all the works of 
 messer Leonardo Giustiniano, both original and translations; 
 all the works of Donate Acciaiuoli, original and translations; 
 all the original works of Alamanno Renuccini; all the original 
 works of messer Cristofano da Prato Vecchio; all the works of 
 messer Poggio, both translations and original; all the works of 
 messer Giovanni Tortella, both original and translations; all 
 the translations of messer Francesco d' Arezzo, who lived at 
 the court of King Ferrando; all the works of Lorenzo Valla, 
 translations and original. 
 
 XXX. Having acquired all the books of every department 
 which were to be found, written both by ancient and modern 
 doctors, and translations as well in every branch, he desired to 
 have all the Greek books that were to be found; all the works 
 of Aristotle in Greek; all the works of Plato, each volume 
 bound in the finest kid-skin; all the works of Homer in one 
 volume, the Iliad, the Odyssey and the Batrachomiomachia ; all 
 the works of Sophocles; all the works of Pindar; all the works 
 of Menander; and as well all the poets that were to be found in 
 the Greek tongue; all the Lives of Plutarch, in one most ex- 
 cellent volume; the Cosmography of Ptolemy, with illustra- 
 tions, in Greek, a most excellent book; all the moral works of 
 Plutarch, a most worthy book; all the works of Herodotus, of 
 Pausanias, of Thucydides, of Polybius; all the works of De- 
 mosthenes and of Aeschines; Plotinus the philosopher, all his 
 works; all the commentaries that are found among the Greeks, 
 as for example the commentaries upon Aristotle; all the works 
 of Theophrastus, the Physica de plantis ; all the Greek lexi- 
 cographers, the Greek with the Latin explanation; all the 
 works of Hippocrates and of Galen; all the works of Xenophon; 
 part of the Bible in Greek; all the works of St. Basil; all the 
 works of St. John Chrysostom; all the works of St. Athanasius, 
 of St. John of Damascus; all the works of St. Gregory of
 
 VESPASIANO DA BISTICCI. 79 
 
 Nazianzus, of Gregory of Nyssa, of Origen, of Dionysius the 
 Areopagite; of John Climacus, of St. Ephraem the Monk, of 
 Aeneas the Sophist; the Collations of John Cassianus, the 
 Book of Paradise, Vitae sanctorum patrum ex Aegypto ; the 
 Lives of Barlaam and Josaphat; a Psalter in three tongues, a 
 wonderful thing, in Hebrew, Greek and Latin, verse for verse, 
 a most excellent book; all the books on geometry, on arith- 
 metic, and on astronomy that are found in any language. 
 There are numerous Greek books, by various authors, which 
 when he was not able to get them otherwise, he sent for them, 
 desiring that nothing should be wanting in any tongue which 
 it was possible to acquire. There were to be seen Hebrew 
 books, all that could be found in that language, beginning 
 with the Bible, and all those who have commented upon it, 
 rabbi Moses, and other commentators. Not only are there 
 Hebrew books on the Holy Scriptures, but also on medicine, 
 on philosophy and in all branches, all that could be acquired 
 in that tongue. 
 
 XXXI. His Lordship having completed this worthy task at 
 the great expense of more than 30,000 ducats, among the other 
 excellent and praiseworthy arrangements which he made was 
 this, that he undertook to give to each writer a title, and this 
 he desired should be covered with crimson embellished with 
 silver. He began, as has been noted above, with the Bible, as 
 the foremost of all, and had it covered, as was said, with gold 
 brocade. Then beginning with all the doctors of the Church, 
 he had each one covered with crimson and embellished with 
 silver; and so with the Greek doctors as well as with the 
 Latins. As well philosophy, history and books on medicine 
 and all the modern doctors; in such a manner that there are 
 innumerable volumes of this kind, a thing gorgeous to behold. 
 In this library all the books are beautiful in the highest de- 
 gree, all written with the pen, not one printed, that it might 
 not be disgraced thereby; all elegantly illuminated, and there 
 is not one that is not written on kid skin. There is a singular 
 thing about this library, which is not true of any other; and 
 this is, that of all the writers, sacred as well as profane, orig- 
 inal works as well as translations, not a single page is wanting
 
 80 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 from their works, in so far as they are in themselves complete; 
 which cannot be said of any other library, all of which have 
 portions of the works of a writer, but not all; and it is a great 
 distinction to possess such perfection. Some time before I 
 went to Ferrara, being at Urbino at his Lordship's court, and 
 having catalogues of all the libraries of Italy, commencing 
 with that of the pope, of St. Mark at Florence, of Pavia, and 
 I had even sent to England to obtain a catalogue of the library 
 of the university of Oxford, I compared these with that of the 
 duke, and I saw that all were faulty in one particular; that 
 they had numerous copies of the same work, but they had not 
 all the works of one writer complete as this had; nor were 
 there writers of every branch as in this. 
 
 From the Life of Cosimo de* Medici. Founding a Library. 
 
 XII. When he had finished the residence and a good part 
 of the church, he fell to thinking how he should have the place 
 peopled with honest men of letters; and in this way it occurred 
 to him to found a fine library; and one day when I happened 
 to be present in his chamber, he said to me: "In what way 
 would you furnish this library ? " I replied that as for buying 
 the books it would be impossible, for they were not to be had. 
 Then he said: " How is it possible then to furnish it ? " I told 
 him that it would be necessary to have the books copied. He 
 asked in reply if I would be willing to undertake the task. I 
 answered him, that I was willing. He told me to commence 
 my work and he would leave everything to me; and as for the 
 money that would be necessary he would refer the matter to 
 Dom Archangel, then prior of the monastery, who would draw 
 bills upon the bank, which should be paid. The library was 
 commenced at once, for it was his pleasure that it should be 
 done with the utmost possible celerity; and as I did not lack 
 for money I collected in a short time forty- five writers, and 
 finished 200 volumes in twenty-two months; in which work we 
 made use of an excellent arrangement, that of the library of 
 pope Nicholas, which he had given to Cosimo, in the form of a 
 catalogue made out with his own hands. 
 
 XIII. Coining to the arrangement of the library, in the first
 
 VKSPASIANO DA BISTICCI. 8 1 
 
 place there is the Bible and the Concordance, with all their 
 commentaries, as well ancient as modern. And the first writer 
 who commenced to comment on the Holy Scriptures, and who 
 indicated the manner of commenting to all others, was Origen; 
 he wrote in Greek, and St. Jerome translated a part of his 
 works, on the five books of Moses. There are the works of 
 St. Ignatius the martyr, who wrote in Greek, and was a dis- 
 ciple of St. John the Evangelist; most fervent in his Christian 
 zeal, he wrote and preached and for this won the crown of 
 martyrdom. There are the works of St. Basil, bishop of Cap- 
 padocia, a Greek; of St. Gregory of Nazianzus, of Gregory of 
 Nyssa, his brother, of St. John Chrysostom, of St. Athanasius 
 of Alexandria, of St. Kphraem the Monk, of John Climacus, 
 also a Greek; all the works of the Greek doctors that are 
 translated into Latin are there. Then follow the holy doctors 
 and holy writers in Latin, beginning with the works of Lac- 
 tantius, who was very ancient and had praiseworthy qualifica- 
 tions; Hilary of Poitou, a most solemn doctor; St. Cyprian of 
 Carthage, most elegant and saintly; the works of Tertullian, 
 the learned Carthaginian. Then follow the four doctors of the 
 Latin church, and all their works are here; and there is no 
 other library that has these works complete. Then begin the 
 works of St. Jerome; all the works of St. Gregory the moral 
 doctor; all the works of St. Bernard the Abbot, of Hugh of St. 
 Victor, of St. Anselm, of St. Isidore, bishop of Seville, of Bede, 
 of Rabanus Maurus. Coming then to the modern doctors, of 
 St. Thomas Aquinas, of Albertus Magnus, of Alexander of 
 Hales, of St. Bonaventura; the works of the Archbishop An- 
 tonino of Florence, that is, his Summa. 
 
 XIV. Coming to the philosophers, all the works of Aris- 
 totle, both his moral and natural Philosophy; all the commen- 
 taries of St. Thomas and Albertus Magnus on the philosophy 
 of Aristotle, and still other commentators upon the same; his 
 Logic and other modern systems of Logic. In canon law, the 
 Decretum, the Decretals, Liber Sextus, the Clementines, the 
 Summa of the bishop of Ostia ; Innocentius ; Lectures of the 
 bishop of Ostia on the Decretals; Giovanni Andrea, on Liber 
 Sextus, and an anonymous lecture on the Decretum, and still
 
 82 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 other works on canon law by the abbott of Cicilia and others. 
 Of histories, all the Ten of Livy; Caesar's Commentaries; Sue- 
 tonius Tranquillus, The Lives of the Emperors ; Plutarch's 
 Lives ; Quintus Curtius, the Deeds of Alexander the Great ; 
 Sallust, De bello Jugurthino et Catilinario ; Valerius Maximus, 
 The Memorable Deeds and Sayings of the Ancients ; Emilius 
 Probns, Great Leaders of Foreign Peoples ; a history by Ser 
 Zembino, who commenced at the beginning of the world, and 
 came down to Pope Celestine, a work of great information; the 
 Ecclesiastical History of Eusebius Pamphili, and De tempor- 
 ibus ; the Historiale of Vincenzo ; all the works of Tully in 
 three volumes ; all the works of Seneca in one volume ; Quin- 
 tilian, De institutione oratoria, and the Declamations; Vocabu- 
 lista ; Nonius Marcellus; Pompeius Festus; the Elegantiae of 
 Valla ; Papias ; Uguccione ; Catholicon. Poets : Virgil, Ter- 
 ence, Ovid, Lucan, Statius, the tragedies of Seneca, Plautus. 
 Of grammarians, Priscian. And all the other works necessary 
 to a library, of which no one was wanting; and since there 
 were not copies of all these works in Florence, we sent to 
 Milan, to Bologna and toother places, wherever they might be 
 found. Cosimo lived to see the library wholly completed, and 
 the cataloguing and the arranging of the books; in all of which 
 he took great pleasure, and the work went forward, as was his 
 custom, with great promptness. 
 
 LORENZO DE' MEDICI. 
 
 Born at Florence, 1449. Studied under the guidance of Ficino and 
 other literati of the Medicaean court. Assumed chief political power at the 
 age of twenty-one, upon the occasion of the death of his father, Piero, 
 and ruled until his death in 1492. Obtained from Pope Innocent VIII. 
 that his son Giovanni (afterwards Leo X., b. 1475-d. 1521) was made Car- 
 dinal at the age of fourteen. Participated actively in the literary labors 
 of the distinguished group of men, whose protector and support he was. 
 His most important productions were in verse. 
 
 Lorenzo de* Medici to Giovanni de' Medici, Cardinal.* 
 You, and all of us who are interested in your welfare, ought 
 to esteem ourselves highly favored by Providence, not only for 
 
 * From Roscoe's Life of Lorenzo de' Medici.
 
 LORENZO DE' MEDICI. 83 
 
 the many honors and benefits bestowed upon our house, but 
 more particularly for having conferred upon us, in your per- 
 son, the greatest dignity we have ever enjoyed. This favor, in 
 itself so important, is rendered still more so by the circum- 
 stances with which it is accompanied, and especially by the 
 consideration of your youth and of our situation in the world. 
 The first that I would therefore suggest to you is that you 
 ought to be grateful to God, and continually to recollect that 
 it is not through your merits, your prudence, or your solicitude, 
 that this event has taken place, but through his favor, which 
 you can only repay by a pious, chaste and exemplary life; and 
 that your obligations to the performance of these duties are so 
 much the greater, as in your early years you have given some 
 reasonable expectations that your riper age may produce such 
 fruits. It would indeed be highly disgraceful, and as contrary 
 to your duty as to my hopes, if, at a time when others display 
 a greater share of reason and adopt a better mode of life, you 
 should forget the precepts of your youth, and forsake the path 
 in which you have hitherto trodden. Endeavor, therefore, to 
 alleviate the burthen of your early dignity by the regularity of 
 your life and by your perseverance in those studies which are 
 suitable to your profession. It gave me great satisfaction to 
 learn, that, in the course of the past year, you had frequently, 
 of your own accord, gone to communion and confession ; nor 
 do I conceive that there is any better way of obtaining the 
 favor of heaven than by habituating yourself to a performance 
 of these and similar duties. This appears to me to be the most 
 suitable and useful advice which, in the first instance, I can 
 possibly give you. 
 
 I well know, that as you are now to reside at Rome, that 
 sink of all iniquity, the difficulty of conducting yourself by 
 these admonitions will be increased. The influence of example 
 is itself prevalent; but you will probably meet with those who 
 will particularly endeavor to corrupt and incite you to vice; 
 because, as you may yourself perceive, your early attainment 
 to so great a dignity is not observed without envy, and those 
 who could not prevent your receiving that honor will secretly 
 endeavor to diminish it, by inducing you to forfeit the good
 
 84 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 estimation of the public; thereby piecipitating you into that 
 gulf into which they had themselves fallen; in which attempt, 
 the consideration of your youth will give them a confidence of 
 success. To these difficulties you ought to oppose yourself 
 with the greater firmness, as there is at present less virtue 
 amongst your brethren of the college. I acknowledge indeed 
 that several of them are good and learned men, whose lives are 
 exemplar} 7 , and whom I would recommend to you as patterns 
 of your conduct. By emulating them you will be so much the 
 more known and esteemed, in proportion as your age and the 
 peculiarity of your situation will distinguish you from your 
 colleagues. Avoid, however, as you would Scylla or Chary bd is, 
 the imputation of hypocrisy ; guard against all ostentation, 
 either in your conduct or your discourse; affect not austerity, 
 nor ever appear too serious. This advice you will, I hope, in 
 time understand and practice better than I can express it. 
 
 Yet you are not unacquainted with the great importance of 
 the character which you have to sustain, for you well know 
 that all the Christian world would prosper if the cardinals were 
 what they ought to be; because in such a case there would 
 always be a good pope, upon which the tranquility of Christen- 
 dom so materially depends. Endeavor then to render yourself 
 such, that if all the rest resembled you, we might expect this 
 universal blessing. To give you particular directions as to 
 your behavior and conversation would be a matter of no small 
 difficulty. I shall, therefore, only recommend, that in your 
 intercourse with the cardinals and other men of rank, your 
 language be unassuming and respectful, guiding yourself, 
 however, by your own reason, and not submitting to be im- 
 pelled by the passions of others, who, actuated by improper 
 motives, may pervert the use of their reasons. lyet it satisfy 
 your conscience that your conversation is without intentional 
 offense; and if, through impetuosity of temper, any one should 
 be offended, as his enmity is without just cause, so it will not 
 be very lasting. On this your first visit to Rome, it will, how- 
 ever, be more advisable for you to listen to others than to speak 
 much yourself. 
 
 You are now devoted to God and the church: on which ac-
 
 LORENZO DE' MEDICI. 85 
 
 count you ought to aim at being a good ecclesiastic, and to 
 shew that you prefer the honor and state of the church and of 
 the apostolic see to every other consideration. Nor, while you 
 keep this in view, will it be difficult for you to favor your fam- 
 ily and your native place. On the contrary, you should be the 
 link to bind this city closer to the church, and our family with 
 the city; and although it be impossible to foresee what acci- 
 dents may happen, yet I doubt not but this may be done with 
 equal advantage to all : observing, however, that you are 
 always to prefer the interests of the church. 
 
 You are not only the youngest cardinal in the college, but 
 the youngest person that ever was raised to that rank; and you 
 ought, therefore, to be the most vigilant and unassuming, not 
 giving others occasion to wait for you, either in the chapel, the 
 consistory or upon deputations. You will soon get a sufficient 
 insight into the manners of your brethren. With those of less 
 respectable character converse not with too much intimacy; 
 not merely on account of the circumstance in itself, but for the 
 sake of public opinion. Converse on general topics with all. 
 On public occasions, let your equipage and address be rather 
 below than above mediocrity. A handsome house and a well- 
 ordered family will be preferable to a great retinue and a 
 splendid residence. Endeavor to live with regularity, and 
 gradually to bring your expenses within those bounds which 
 in a new establishment cannot perhaps be expected. Silk and 
 jewels are not suitable for persons in your station. Your taste 
 will be better shown in the acquisition of a few elegant remains 
 of antiquity, or in the collecting of handsome books, and by 
 your attendants being learned and well-bred rather than 
 numerous. Invite others to your house oftener than you re- 
 ceive invitations. Practise neither too frequently. Let your 
 own food be plain, and take sufficient exercise, for those who 
 wear your habit are soon liable, without great caution, to con- 
 tract infirmities. The station of a cardinal is not less secure 
 than elevated; on which account those who arrive at it too 
 frequently become negligent; conceiving their object is attained 
 and that they can preserve it with little trouble. This idea is 
 often injurious to the life and character of those who entertain
 
 86 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 it. Be attentive, therefore, to your conduct, and confide in 
 others too little rather than too much. There is one rule which 
 I would recommend to your attention in preference to all others. 
 Rise early in the morning. This will not only contribute to 
 your health, but will enable you to arrange and expedite the 
 business of the day; and as there are various duties incident to 
 your station, such as the performance of divine service, study- 
 ing, giving audience, and so forth, you will find the observance 
 of this admonition productive of the greatest utility. Another 
 very necessary precaution, particularly on your entrance into 
 public life, is to deliberate every evening on what you may 
 have to perform the following day, that you may not be unpre- 
 pared for whatever may happen. With respect to your speak- 
 ing in the consistory, it will be most becoming for you at 
 present to refer the matters in debate to the judgment of his 
 holiness, alleging as a reason your own youth and inexperi- 
 ence. You will probably be desired to intercede for the favors 
 of the pope on particular occasions. Be cautious, however, 
 that you trouble him not too often; for his temper leads him to 
 be most liberal to those who weary him least with their solici- 
 tations. This you must observe, lest you should give him 
 offense, remembering also at times to converse with him on 
 more agreeable topics; and if you should be obliged to request 
 some kindness from him, let it be done with that modesty and 
 humility which are so pleasing to his disposition. Farewell. 
 
 NICOLO MACHIAVELLI. 
 
 Born at Florence, 1469. Entered at the age of twenty-nine into the 
 service of the Signory. Was prominent in the affairs of the republic, 
 after the banishment of the Medici, until their return in 1512. Driven 
 from Florence, he retired to his patrimony near San Casciano, and de- 
 voted himself to literary work. Resumed his official career under 
 Clement VII. Died, 1527. His greater works are the Prince, the History 
 of Florence, the Discourses on Livy and a treatise on the Art of War.
 
 NICOI<6 MACHIAVELU. 87 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM THE PRINCE.* 
 
 Chapter XVII L How far a Prince is obliged by his Promise. 
 How honorable it is for a prince to keep his word, and act 
 rather with integrity than collusion, I suppose everybody un- 
 derstands: nevertheless experience has shown in our times 
 that those princes who have not pinned themselves up to that 
 punctuality and preciseness have done great things, and by 
 their cunning and subtilty not only circumvented, and darted 
 the brains of those with whom they had to deal, but have over- 
 come and been too hard for those who have been so supersti- 
 tiously exact. For further explanation you must understand 
 there are two ways of contending, by law and by force: the 
 first is proper to men; the second to beasts; but because man}' 
 times the first is insufficient, recourse must be had to the sec- 
 ond. It belongs, therefore, to a prince to understand both, 
 when to make use of the rational and when of the brutal way; 
 and this is recommended to princes, though abstrusely, by 
 ancient writers, who tell them how Achilles and several other 
 princes were committed to the education of Chiron the Centaur, 
 who was to keep them under his discipline, choosing them a 
 master, half man and half beast, for no other reason but to 
 show how necessary it is for a prince to be acquainted with 
 both, for that one without the other will be of little duration. 
 Seeing, therefore, it is of such importance to a prince to take 
 upon him the nature and disposition of a beast, of all the whole 
 flock he ought to imitate the lion and the fox; for the lion is 
 in danger of toils and snares, and the fox of the wolf ; so that 
 he must be a fox to find out the snares, and a lion to fight 
 away the wolves, but they who keep wholly to the lion have 
 no true notion of themselves. A prince, therefore, who is wise 
 and prudent, cannot or ought not to keep his parole, when the 
 keeping of it is to his prejudice, and the causes for which he 
 promised removed. Were men all good this doctrine was not 
 to be taught, but because they are wicked and not likely to be 
 punctual with you, you are not obliged to any such strictness 
 
 * Morley's edition in the Universal Library, in which the reading of 
 the folio of 1674 has been reproduced.
 
 88 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 with them; nor was there ever any prince that wanted lawful 
 pretence to justify his breach of promise. I might instance in 
 many modern examples, and show how many confederations, 
 and peaces, and promises have been broken by the infidelity 
 of princes, and how he that best personated the fox had the 
 better success. Nevertheless, it is of great consequence to dis 
 guise your inclination, and to play the hypocrite well; and men 
 are so simple in their temper and so submissive to their pres- 
 ent necessities, that he that is neat and cleanly in his collusions 
 shall never want people to practice them upon. I cannot for- 
 bear one example which is still fresh in our memory. Alex- 
 ander VI. never did, nor thought of, anything but cheating, 
 and never wanted matter to work upon; and though no man 
 promised a thing with greater asseveration, nor confirmed it 
 with more oaths and imprecations, and observed them less, yet 
 understanding the world well he never miscarried. 
 
 A prince, therefore, is not obliged to have all the fore-men- 
 tioned good qualities in reality, but it is necessary to have 
 them in appearance: nay, I will be bold to affirm that, having 
 them actually, and employing them upon all occasions, they 
 are extremely prejudicial, whereas, having them only in ap- 
 pearance, they turn to better account; it is honorable to seem 
 mild, and merciful, and courteous, and religious, and sincere, 
 and indeed to be so, provided your mind be so rectified and 
 prepared that you can act quite contrary upon occasion. And 
 this must be premised, that a prince, especially if come but 
 lately to the throne, cannot observe all those things exactly 
 which make men be esteemed virtuous, being often necessi- 
 tated, for the preservation of his State, to do things inhuman, 
 uncharitable and irreligious; and, therefore, it is convenient 
 his mind be at his command, and flexible to all the puffs and 
 variations of fortune; not forbearing to be good whilst it is in 
 his choice, but knowing how to be evil when there is a neces- 
 sity. A prince, then, is to have particular care that nothing 
 falls from his mouth but what is full of the five qualities afore- 
 said, and that to see and to hear him he appears all goodness, 
 integrity, humanity and religion, which last he ought to pre- 
 tend to more than ordinarily, because more men do judge
 
 NICOL6 MACHIAVEIvLI. 89 
 
 by the eye than by the touch; for everybody sees, but few 
 understand; everybody sees how you appear, but few know 
 what in reality you are, and those few dare not oppose the 
 opinion of the multitude, who have the majesty of their prince 
 to defend them; and in the actions of all men, especially 
 princes, where no man has power to judge, every one looks to 
 the end. L,et a prince, therefore, do what he can to preserve 
 his life and continue his supremacy, the means which he uses 
 shall be thought honorable, and be commended by everybody; 
 because the people are always taken with the appearance and 
 event of things, and the greatest part of the world consists of 
 the people; those few who are wise taking place when the mul- 
 titude has nothing else to rely upon. There is a prince at this 
 time in being (but his name I shall conceal) who has nothing 
 in his mouth but fidelity and peace; and yet had he exercised 
 either the one or the other, they had robbed him before this of 
 both his power and reputation. 
 
 Chapter XXVI. An Exhortation to Deliver Italy from the 
 Barbarians. 
 
 Having weighed, therefore, all that is said before, and con- 
 sidered seriously with myself whether in this juncture of affairs 
 in Italy the times were disposed for the advancement of a new 
 prince, and whether there was competent matter that could 
 give occasion to a virtuous and wise person to introduce such a 
 form as would bring reputation to him and benefit to all his 
 subjects, it seems to me that at this present so many things 
 concur to the exaltation of a new prince that I do not know 
 any time that has been more proper than this; and if, as I said 
 before, for the manifestation of the courage of Moses it was 
 necessary that the Israelites should be captives in Egypt ; for 
 discovery of the magnanimity of Cyrus, that the Persians 
 should be oppressed by the Medes ; and for the illustration of 
 the excellence of Theseus, that the Athenians should be ban- 
 ished and dispersed; so to evince and demonstrate the courage 
 of an Italian spirit it was necessary that Italy should be re- 
 duced to its present condition; that it should be in greater 
 bondage than the Jews, in greater servitude than the Persians, 
 and in greater dispersion than the Athenians ; without head,
 
 9O SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 without order, harassed, spoiled, overcome, overrun, and over- 
 flown with all kinds of calamity; and though formerly some 
 sparks of virtue have appeared in some persons that might 
 give it hopes that God had ordained them for its redemption, 
 yet it was found afterwards that in the very height and career 
 of their exploits they were checked and forsaken by fortune, 
 and poor Italy left half dead, expecting who would be her Sa- 
 maritan to bind up her wounds, put an end to the sackings and 
 devastations in I/ombardy, the taxes and expilations in the 
 kingdom of Naples and Tuscany, and cure her sores which 
 length of time had festered and i in posthu mated. It is manifest 
 how she prays to God daily to send some person who may re- 
 deem her from the cruelty and insolence of the barbarians. It 
 is manifest how prone and ready she is to follow the banner 
 that any man will take up; nor is it at present to be discerned 
 where she can repose her hopes with more probability than in 
 your illustrious family,* which by its own courage and interest 
 and the favor of God and the Church (of which it is now chief), 
 may be induced to make itself head in her redemption; which 
 will be no hard matter to be effected if you lay before you the 
 lives and actions of the persons above named; who though they 
 were rare and wonderful were yet but men, and not accommo- 
 dated with so fair circumstances as you. Their enterprise was 
 not more just nor easy, nor God Almighty more their friend 
 than yours. You have justice on your side; for that war is 
 just which is necessary, and it is piety to fight where no hope 
 is left in anything else. The people are universally disposed, 
 and where the disposition is so great the opposition can be but 
 small, especially you taking your rules from those persons 
 which I have proposed to you for a model. 
 
 Besides, many things that they did were supernatural, and 
 by God's immediate conduct the sea opened, a cloud directed, 
 a rock afforded water, it rained manna; all these things are 
 recompensed in your grandeur, and the rest remains to be exe- 
 cuted by you. God will not do everything immediately, be- 
 cause He will not deprive us of our free will and the honour 
 that devolves upon us. Nor is it any wonder if none of the 
 
 * "The Prince" was addressed to Lorenzo, son of Piero de' Medici.
 
 NICOL6 MACHIAVEUJ. 91 
 
 aforenamed Italians have been able to do that which may be 
 hoped for from your illustrious family; and if in so many revo- 
 lutions in Italy, and so long continuation of war, their military 
 virtue seems spent and extinguished, the reason is, their old 
 discipline was not good, and nobody was able to direct a better. 
 Nothing makes so much to the honour of a new prince as new 
 laws and new orders invented by him, which, if they be well 
 founded, and carry anything of grandeur along with them, do 
 render him venerable and wonderful; and Italy is susceptible 
 enough of any new form. Their courage is great enough in 
 the soldier if it be not wanting in the officer; witness the duels 
 and combats, in which the Italians have generally the better 
 by their force and dexterity and stratagem; but come to their 
 battles, and they have often the worse, and all from the inex- 
 perience of their commanders; for those who pretend to have 
 skill will never obey, and every one thinks he has skill, there 
 having been nobody to this very day raised by his virtue and 
 fortune to that height of reputation as to prevail with others to 
 obey him. Hence it came that, in so long time, in the many 
 wars during the last twenty years, whenever an army con- 
 sisted wholly of Italians, it was certain to be beaten; and this 
 may be testified by Tarns, Alexandria, Capua, Genoa, Vaila,. 
 Bologna, and Mestri. If therefore, your illustrious family be 
 inclined to follow the examples of those excellent persons who 
 redeemed their countries, it is necessary, as a true fundamental 
 of all great enterprises, to provide yourselves with forces of 
 your own subjects, for you cannot have more faithful nor bet- 
 ter soldiers than they. And though all of them be good, yet 
 altogether they will be much better when they find themselves 
 not only commanded, but preferred and caressed by a prince of 
 their own. It is necessary, therefore, to be furnished with 
 these forces before you can be able with Italian virtue to vindi- 
 cate your country from the oppression of strangers. And 
 though the Swiss and Spanish infantry be counted terrible, 
 they have both of them their defects; and a third sort may be 
 composed that may not only encounter but be confident to beat 
 them; for the Spanish foot cannot deal with horse, and the 
 Swiss are not invincible when they meet with foot as obstinate
 
 92 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 as themselves. It has been seen by experience, and would be 
 so again, the Spaniards cannot sustain the fury of the French 
 cavalry, and the Swiss have been overthrown by the infantry 
 of Spain. And though of this last we have seen no perfect 
 experiment, yet we had a competent essay at the battle of 
 Ravenna, where the Spanish foot being engaged with the 
 German battalions (which observe the same order and disci- 
 pline as the Swiss), the Spaniards, by the agility of their 
 bodies and the protection of their bucklers, broke in under 
 their pikes and killed them securely, while the poor Germans 
 were incapable to defend themselves; and had not the Span- 
 iards been charged by the horse, the German foot had been 
 certainly cut off. It is possible, therefore, the defect of both 
 those foot being known, to institute a third which may buckle 
 with the horse and be in no fear of their foot; which will be 
 effected not by the variation of their arms, but by changing 
 their discipline. And these are some of those things which, 
 being newly reformed, give great grandeur and reputation to 
 any new prince. This opportunity, therefore, is by no means 
 to be slipped, that Italy, after so long expectation, may see 
 some hopes of deliverance. Nor can it be expressed with what 
 joy, with what impatience of revenge, with what fidelity, with 
 what compassion, with what tears such a champion would be 
 received into all the provinces that have suffered by those bar- 
 barous inundations. What gates would be shut against him? 
 What people would deny him obedience? What malice would 
 oppose him ? What true Italian would refuse to follow him ? 
 There is not anybody but abhors and nauseates this barbarous 
 domination. L,et your illustrious family, then, address itself 
 to the work with as much courage and confidence as just enter- 
 prises are undertaken; that under their ensigns our country 
 may be recovered, and under their conduct Petrarch's prophecy 
 may be fulfilled, who promised that 
 
 Virtu contra furore 
 
 Prenderd /' arme, efra'l (ombatter corto : 
 
 Che rantico valore 
 
 NegV Italici cor non I ancor morto. 
 
 Virtue shall arm 'gainst rage, and in short fight 
 Prove the Roman valour's not extinguished quite.
 
 BALD ASS ARE CASTIGUONE. 93 
 
 BALDASSARE CASTIGLIONE. 
 
 Born at Casatico, near Mantua, 1478, and educated at Milan. Was one 
 of the most distinguished diplomats of his time, taking service first under 
 Ludovico Sforza, duke of Milan, later with the dukes of Urbino, and in 
 1524 was sent to Spain, to arrange a dispute between Clement VII. and 
 Charles V. His mission was unsuccessful; but he remained in Spain, 
 was made bishop of Avila, and died at Toledo in 1529. 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM THE COURTIER.* 
 
 Letters not Beneath the Notice of a Courtier. 
 
 But besides goodnesse the true and principall ornament of 
 the rninde in every man (I believe) are letters, although ye 
 Frenchmen know onely the nobleness of armes, and passe for 
 nothing beside: so that they not only doe not set by letters, 
 but they rather abhorre them, and all learned men they doe 
 count very rascalles, and they think it a great villany when 
 any one of them is called a clarke. 
 
 Then answered the L,ord Magnifico, you say very true, this 
 error in deed hath longe raigned among the Frenchmen, But if 
 Monseigneur de Angoulesme have so good luck that he may 
 (as men hope) succeede in the Crowne, the glory of arms in 
 France doth not so florish nor is had in such estimation, as 
 letters will be, I believe. 
 
 For it is not long sins I was in France, and saw this Prince 
 in the Court there, who seemed unto mee beside the handsom- 
 nesse of person and bewtie of visage, to have in his counten- 
 ance so great a maiestie, accompanied nevertheless with a cer- 
 taine lovely courtesie, that the realme of France shoulde ever 
 seeme unto him a small matter. 
 
 I understood afterwarde by many gentlemen both French 
 and Italian, very much of the most noble conditions, of the 
 greatness of courage, prowesse and liberalitie that was in him: 
 and among other things, it was told me, that hee highly loved 
 and esteemed letters, and had in very great reputation all 
 
 * The Courtier of Count Baldesar Castillo, devided into foure Bookes, 
 verie necessarie and profitable for young Gentlemen and Gentle women 
 abiding in Court, Pallace or Place, done into English by Thomas Hobby ^ 
 London, Printed by John Wolfe, 1588.
 
 94 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 learned men, and blamed the Frenchmen themselves that their 
 mindes were so far wide from this profession, especially having 
 at their doores so noble an universitie as Paris is, where all 
 the world resorteth. 
 
 Then spake the Count: It is great wonder that in these 
 tender yeares, onely by the provocation of nature, contrarie to 
 the manner of the countrie, he hath given him self to so good 
 a way. And because subiectes follow alwaies the conditions 
 of the higher powers, it is possible that it may come to passe 
 (as you say) that ye Frenchmen will yet esteeme letters to be 
 of that dignitie that they are in deede. The which (if they 
 will give eare thereto) they may soone bee perswaded. 
 
 Forsomuch as men ought to covet of nature nothing so much, 
 and nothing is more proper for them, than knowledge: which 
 thing it were a great folly to say or to holde opinion that it is 
 not alwaies good. 
 
 And in case I might commune with them, or with other that 
 were of a contrary opinion to me, I would doe my diligence to 
 shew them, how much letters (which undoubtedlye have beene 
 granted of God unto men for a soveraigne gift) are profitable 
 and necessarie for our life and estimation. Neither should I 
 want the examples of so many excellent captaines of old time, 
 which all ioyned the ornament of letters with prowesse of 
 armes. 
 
 For (as you know) Alexander had Homer in such reverence, 
 that he laide his Ilias alwaies under his beds heade: and he 
 applied diligently not these studies onely, but also the Specu- 
 lations of Philosophy under the discipline of Aristotle. 
 
 Alcibiades increased his good conditions and made them 
 greater with letters, and with the instructions of Socrates. 
 
 Also what diligence Cesar used in studies, those thinges 
 which he had so divinelye written him selfe, make triall. 
 
 It is saide that Scipio Affricanus carried alwaies in his hand 
 the bookes of Xenophon, wherein under the name of Cyrus he 
 instructeth a perfect King. 
 
 I coulde recite unto you Lucullus, Sylla, Pompeius, Brutus, 
 and many other Romanes and Grecians, but I woulde doe no 
 more but make mention of Hannibal, which being so excellent
 
 BALDASSARE CASTIGUONE. 95 
 
 a Captaine (yet for all that of a fierce nature and voide of all 
 humanity, an untrue dealer, and a despiser of men and of the 
 Gods) has also understanding in letters, and the knowledge of 
 the greeke tongue. 
 
 And if I be not deceived (I trow) I have redde in my time, 
 that he left a booke behinde him of his own making in the 
 Greeke tongue. But this kinde of talke is more than needeth: 
 for I knowe all you understand how much the Frenchmen be 
 deceived in holding opinion letters to doe any hurt to armes. 
 
 You know in great matters and adventures in wars the true 
 provocation is glory: and who so for lucres sake or for any 
 other consideration taketh it in hande (beside that hee never 
 doth any thing worthie prayse) deserveth not the name of a 
 gentleman, but is a most vile merchant. 
 
 And every man may conceive it to be true glory, that is 
 stored up in the holy treasure of letters, except such unluckie 
 creatures as have no taste thereof. 
 
 What minde is so fainte, so bashfull, and of so base a 
 courage, that in reading the acts and greatnes of Cesar, Alex- 
 ander, Scipio, Annibal, and so many other, is not incensed 
 with a most fervent longing to be like them; and doth not pre- 
 ferre the getting of that perpetuall fame, before the rotten life 
 that lasteth two days ? Which in despite of death maketh him 
 live a great deale more famous than before. 
 
 But he that savoureth not the sweetness of letters, can not 
 know how much is the greatness of glory, which is a long 
 while preserved by them, and onely measureth it with the age 
 of one or two men, for further he beareth not in minde. There- 
 fore can he not esteeme this short glory so much as he would 
 doe that, which (in a manner) is everlasting, if by his ill happe 
 hee were not barred from the knowledge of it. And not pass- 
 ing upon it so much, reason perswadeth, and a man may well 
 believe hee will never hazard himselfe so much to come by it, 
 as hee that knoweth it. 
 
 I woulde not now some one of the contrarie parte should 
 alledge unto mee the contrarie effects to confute mine opinion 
 with all: and tell mee how the Italians with their knowledge 
 of letters have shewed small prowesse in armes from a cer-
 
 g6 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 taine time hetherto, the which nevertheless is too true: but in 
 very deed a man may well say that the offence of a few, hath 
 brought (beside the great damage) an everlasting reproach 
 unto all other, and the verie cause of our confusion, and of the 
 neglecting of Vertue in our miudes (if it bee not cleane deade) 
 proceeded of them. But it were a more shamef ull matter unto 
 us to publish it, than unto the Frenchmen the ignorance in 
 letters. 
 
 Therefore it is better to passe that over with silence that 
 cannot bee rehearsed without Sorrow, and leaving this purpose 
 into the which I am entred against my wil, returne againe unto 
 our Courtier, whom in letters I will have to be more than in- 
 differently well scene, at the least in those studies, which they 
 call Hurnanitie and to have not onely the understanding of the 
 Latin tongue, but also of the greek, because of the many and 
 sundrie things that with great excellencie are written in it. 
 
 Let him much exercise him selfe in Poets, and no lesse in 
 Oratours and Historiographers, and also in writing both rime 
 and prose, and especially in this our vulgar tongue. For 
 beside the contentation that hee shall receive thereby him 
 selfe, hee shall by this meanes never want pleasant intertaine- 
 ments with women which ordinarily love such matters. 
 
 And if by reason either of his other businesses besides, or of 
 his slender studie hee shall not attaine unto that perfection 
 that his writings may bee worthy much commendation, let 
 him bee circumspect in keeping them close, least he make 
 other men to laugh at him. Onely hee may shew them to a 
 friende whom he may trust. 
 
 For at least wise hee shall receive so much profit, that by 
 that exercise hee shall be able to give his iudgement upon other 
 men's doings. For it happeneth very seldome, that a man not 
 exercised in writing, how learned soever he be, can at any 
 time know perfectly the labour and toile of writers, or tast of 
 the sweetnesse and excellencey of styles, and those inner ob- 
 servations that often times are founde in them of olde time. 
 
 And besides that, those studies shal make him copious, and 
 (as Anstippus answered a Tirant) bold to speake upon a good 
 ground with every man.
 
 BALDASSARB CASTIGUONE. 9 
 
 Notwithstanding I will have our Courtier to keepe fast in 
 Iris minde one lesson, and that is this, to bee alwaies wane 
 both in this and in everie other point, and rather fearefull than 
 bolde, and beware that hee perswade not himself falsly, to 
 know the thing hee knoweth not in deede. 
 
 Because we are of nature all the sort of us much more greedy 
 of praise than is requisite, and better do our eares love the 
 melodic of wordes sounding to our praise, than any other song 
 or sound that is most sweete. And therefore many times like 
 the voyces of marmaidens, they are the cause of drowning of 
 him that doth not well stoppe his eares at such deceitful 
 harmony. 
 
 This danger being perceived, there hath beene among the 
 auncient wise men that have writen bookes, how a man should 
 knowe a true friend from a flatterer. But what availeth it ? 
 If there bee many of them (or rather infinite) that manifestly 
 perceive they are flattered, and yet love him that flattereth. 
 them, and hate him that telleth them the troth. 
 
 And oftentimes (standing in opinion that he that prayseth 
 them is too scarce in his wordes) they them selves helpe him 
 forwarde, and utter such matters of themselves, that the most 
 impudent flatterer of all is ashamed of. 
 
 Let us leave these blinde buzzards in their owne errour, and 
 make our Courtier of so good a Judgement, that he will not 
 bee given to understand blacke for white, nor presume more of 
 himselfe than what he knoweth very manifestly to be true, and 
 especially in those thinges, which (if yee beare well in minde) 
 the Lorde Cesar rehearsed in his devise of pastimes, that we 
 have many times used for an instrument to make many be- 
 come foolish. But rather that he may be assured not to fall 
 into any error, where he knoweth those prayses that are given 
 him to be true, let him not so openly consent to them, nor con- 
 firme them so without resistance, but rather with modestie 
 (in a manner) deny them cleane, shewing alwaies and count- 
 ing in effect, armes to bee his principall profession, and all the 
 other good qualities for an ornament thereof. 
 
 And principally among Souldiers, least hee bee like unto 
 them that in learning will seeme men of warre, and among 
 men of warre, learned.
 
 98 SOURCE-BOOK OP THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 The Perfect Courtier. 
 
 But to come to some particularitie, I iudge the principall 
 and true profession of a Courtier ought to bee in feates of 
 armes, the which above all I will have him to practise lively, 
 and to bee knowne among other of his hardines, for his 
 atchteving of enterprises, and for his fidelitie towarde him 
 whom he serveth. And he shall purchase himselfe a name 
 with these good conditions, in doing the deedes in every time 
 and place, for it is not for him to fainte at any time in this be- 
 halfe without a wondrous reproach. 
 
 And even as in women honestie once stained doth never re- 
 turn e againe to the former estate: so the fame of a gentleman 
 that carrieth weapon, if it once take a soyle in anye litle point 
 through dastardlinesse or any other reproach, doth evermore 
 continue shamefull in the world and full of ignorance. 
 
 Therefore the more excellent our Courtier shall be in this 
 arte, the more shall he be worthie praise: albeit I judge not 
 necessarie in him so perfect a knowledge of things and other 
 qualities that is requisite in a Captaine. But because this is 
 .overlarge a scope of matters, we wil holde our selves contented, 
 as wee have saide, with the uprightnesse of a well meaning 
 mind, and with an invincible courage, and that he alwaies 
 ^hew himself such a one. 
 
 For many times men of courage are sooner knowne in small 
 matters than in great. Often times in dangers that stand 
 them upon, and where many eyes be, ye shall see some that 
 for all their hart is dead in their bodie, yet pricked with shame 
 or with the company, goe forwarde, as it were, blindfield and 
 doe their duetie. And God knoweth both in matters that 
 Jittle touch them, and also where they suppose that without 
 ^missing they may convey them selves from danger, how they 
 are willing inough to sleepe in a whole skinne. 
 
 But such as think themselves neither marked, scene, nor 
 tnowne, and yet declare a stoute courage, and suffer not the 
 least thing in the world to passe that may berden them, they 
 have that courage of spirite which we seek to have in our 
 Courtier. Yet will wee not have him for all that so lustie to 
 .make braverie in words, and to bragge that he hath wedded
 
 BALDASSARE CASTIGUONE. 99 
 
 his harnes for a wife, and to threaten with such grimme looks, 
 as we have seen Berto do often times. 
 
 For unto such may wel be said, that a worthie gentle woman 
 in a noble assemblie spake pleasantly unto one, that shall bee 
 nameless for this time, whom she to shew him a good counte- 
 nance, desired to daunce with her, and hee refusing it, and to 
 heare musicke, and many other entertainments offered him, 
 alwaies affirming such trifles not to be his profession, at last 
 the gentle woman demanded him, what is then your profes- 
 sion ? he answered with a frowning look, to fight. 
 
 Then saide the gentle woman: seeing you are not now at 
 the warre nor in place to fight, I would think it best for you 
 to bee well besmered and set up in an armory with other im- 
 plements of warre till time were you should be occupied, least 
 you ware more rustier than you are. Thus with much laugh- 
 ing of the standers by, she left him with a mocke in his foolish 
 presumption. 
 
 The ende therefore of a perfect Courtier (whereof hetherto 
 nothing hath beene spoken) I believe is to purchase him, by 
 the meane of the qualities which these L,ordes have given him, 
 in such wise the good will and favour of the Prince he is in 
 service withall, that he may breake his minde to him, and 
 alwaies enforme him franckly of the truth of every matter 
 meete for him to understand, without feare or perill to dis- 
 please him. And when hee knoweth his minde is bent to 
 commit any thing unseemely for him, to be bold to stand with 
 him in it, and to take courage after an honest sorte at the 
 favor which he hath gotten him through his good qualities, to 
 diswade him from every ill purpose, and to set him in the way 
 of virtue. And so shall the Courtier, if he have the goodoesse 
 in him that these L,ordes have given him accompanied with 
 readiness of wit, pleasantness, wisedom, knowledge in letters, 
 and so many other things, understand how to behave himself 
 readily in all occurrents to drive into his Prince's heade what 
 honour and profit shall ensure to him and to his by iustice, 
 liberallitie, valiantness of courage, meekeness, and by the 
 other vertues that belong to a good prince, and contrariwise 
 what slander and damage commeth of the vices contrarie to 
 them.
 
 100 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 And therefore in mine opinion, as musicke, sportes, pastimes, 
 and other pleasant fashions, are (as a man would say) the 
 floure of courtlinesse, even so is the training and helping for- 
 warde of the Prince to goodnesse, and the fearing him from 
 evil, the finite of it. 
 
 And because the prayses of well doing consisteth chiefly in 
 two pointes, whereof the one is, in choosing out an end that 
 our purpose is directed unto, that is good in deede, the other, 
 the knowledge to finde out apt and meete meanes to bring it 
 to the appointed good ende: sure it is that the minde of him 
 which thinketh to worke so, that his Prince shall not bee de- 
 ceived, nor lead with flatterers, railers, and lyers, but shall 
 know both the good and the bad, and beare love to the one, 
 and hatred to the other, is directed to a verie good end. 
 
 Me thinke againe, that the qualities which these Lords have 
 given the Courtier, may bee a good means to compasse it; and 
 that, because among many vices that we see now a dayes in 
 many of our Princes, the greatest are ignorance and selfe 
 liking. 
 
 And the roote of these two mischiefs is nothing els but lying, 
 which vice is worthely abhorred of God and man, and more 
 hurtfull to Princes than any other, because they have more 
 scarsitie than of any thing els, of that which they neede to 
 have more plentie of, than of any thing; namely, of such as 
 should tell them the truth, and put them in mind of goodnesse; 
 for enimies be not driven of love to doe these offices, but they 
 delight rather to have them live wickedly and never to amend : 
 on the other side, they dare not rebuke them openly for feare 
 they be punished. 
 
 Music. 
 
 Then saide the Lord Gasper Pallavicin. There are many 
 sortes of musicke, as well in the brest as upon instruments, 
 therefore would I gladly learne which is the best, and at what 
 time the Courtier ought to practise it. 
 
 Me thinke then answered Sir Fredericke, prick-song is a 
 faire musicke, so it be done upon the booke surely and after a 
 good sorte. But to sing to the lute is much better, because all
 
 BALDASSARE CASTIGLIONE. IOI 
 
 the sweetness consisteth in one alone, and a man is much more 
 heedfull and understandeth better the feat, manner and the 
 aire of veyne of it, when the eares are not busied in hearing 
 any more than one voice: and beside every little error is soone 
 perceived, which happeneth not in singing with company, for 
 one beareth out the other. 
 
 But singing to the lute with the dittie (me thinke) is more 
 pleasant than the rest, for it addeth to the wordes such a grace 
 and strength, that it is a great wonder. 
 
 Also all Instruments with Freats are full of harmony, be- 
 cause the tunes of them are very perfect, and with ease a man 
 may doe many things upon them that fill the mind with sweet- 
 nesse of musicke. 
 
 And the musicke with a sette of Violes doth no lesse delite 
 a man: for it is very sweet and artificiall. 
 
 A mans brest giveth a great ornament and grace to all these 
 instruments, in the which I will have it sufficient that our 
 Courtier have an understanding. Yet, the more cunninger he 
 is upon them, the better it is for him, without medling much 
 with the instruments that Minerva and Alcibiades refused, 
 because it seemeth they are noysome. 
 
 Now as touching the time and season when these sortes of 
 musicke are to bee practised: I believe at all times when a 
 man is in familiar and loving company, having nothing else 
 adoe. But especially they are meete to be practised in the 
 presence of women, because those sights sweeten the mindes 
 of the hearers, and make them the more apt to bee pierced 
 with the pleasantnesse of musicke, and also then quicken the 
 spirits of the very doers. 
 
 I am well pleased (as I have saide) they flee the multitude, 
 and especially the unnoble. 
 
 But the seasoning of the whole must be discretion, because 
 in effect it were a matter impossible to imagine all cases that 
 fall. And if the Courtier bee a righteous iudge of him selfe, 
 hee shall apply him selfe well inough to the time, and shall 
 discerne when the hearers minds are disposed to give eare and 
 when they are not. He shall know his age, for (to say the 
 truth) it were no meete matter, but an ill sight to see a man of
 
 IO2 SOURCE-BOOK OP THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 any estimation being old, horeheaded and toothlesse, full of 
 wrinkles, with a lute in his armes playing upon it, and singing 
 in the middest of a company of women, although he coulde 
 doe it reasonably well. And that because such songes con- 
 taine in them wordes of love, and in olde men love is a thing 
 to be iested at: although otherwhile he seemeth among other 
 miracles of his to take delite in spite of yeares to set a fire 
 frosen heartes. 
 
 Then answered the Lord Julian: doe you not barre poore 
 olde men from this pleasure (Sir Fredericke) for in my time I 
 have knowne men of yeares have very perfect brestes and 
 most nimble fingers for instruments, much more than some 
 yong men. 
 
 I goe not about (quoth Sir Fredericke) to barre old men 
 from this pleasure, but I wil barre you and these Ladies from 
 laughing at that follie. 
 
 And in case olde men will sing to the lute, let them do it 
 secretly, and onely to rid their minds of those troublesome 
 cares and grievous disquieting that our life is full of: and to 
 taste of that excellencie which I believe Pythagoras and 
 Socrates savoured in musicke. 
 
 And set case they exercise it not at all: for they have gotten 
 a certaine habite and custome of it, they shall savour it much 
 better in hearing, than he that hath no knowledge in it: For 
 like as the armes of a Smith that is weake in other things, be- 
 cause they are more exercised, bee stronger than an other 
 bodies that is sturdie, but not exercised to worke with his 
 arms : even so the armes that be exercised in musicke, doe 
 much better and sooner discerne it, and with more pleasure 
 judge of it, than other, how good and quicke soever they be 
 that have not beene practised in ye variety of pleasant musicke: 
 because those musical tones pearce not, but without leaving 
 any taste of themselves passe by ye eares not accustomed to 
 here them, although the verie wilde beastes feel some dilite in 
 melodic. 
 
 This is therefore the pleasure meete for olde men to take in 
 musicke. 
 
 The selfe same I say of daunsing, for in deede these exer-
 
 MATTEO BANDEU/X 103 
 
 cises ought to be left off before age constraineth us to leave 
 them whether we will or no. 
 
 It is better then, answered here M. Morello, halfe chafed, to 
 except all old men, and to say that onely yong men are to be 
 called Courtiers. 
 
 Then laughed Sir Fredericke and saide : Note (maister 
 Morello ) whether such as delite in these matters, if they bee 
 not young men, doe not strive to appear young, and therefore 
 dye their haire and make their bearde grow twice a weeke, and 
 this proceedeth upon that nature saith to them in secrete, that 
 these matters are not comely but for yong men. 
 
 All these Ladies laughed, becaused they knew these wordes 
 touched maister Morello, and he seemed somewhat out of pa- 
 tience at the matter. 
 
 MATTEO BANDELLO. 
 
 Born at Castelnuovo, near Tortona, circa 1480. Entered the church 
 and resided at Mantua, as tutor in the family of Gonzaga. The battle 
 of Pavia caused him to leave Lombardy, and he made his way to France. 
 Made bishop of Agen in 1550, where he resided for some years before his 
 death in 1562. The Novels are his chief literary work. 
 
 Bandello to the Reverend Doctor in Theology Fro, Cristoforo Bandello^ 
 Administrator of the Order of the Minor Btethern in the Province of 
 Genoa * 
 
 If Pope Leo X had, when as first Martin Luther began to 
 spread abroad the pestilent venom of his heresies, lent a fav- 
 orable ear to the Master of the Sacred Palace, it had been an 
 easy matter to quench those nascent flames, which have since 
 waxed to such a height that, except God put hand thereto, 
 they are more like to increase than abate. And certes me 
 knoweth not what spirit was this of Luther's, which so many 
 admire, as if he were a profound dialectitian, an ingenious phil- 
 osopher and a profound theologian, he having in all his various 
 idle devisings adduced no single plausible argument of his own 
 
 * The Novels of Matteo Bandello, Bishop of Agen : now first done into 
 English prose and verse by John Payne. London, 1890 : printed for the 
 Villon Society.
 
 104 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 invention, but having only tricked out anew the false opinions 
 condemned and reproved by so many Councils-general and ul- 
 timately by that of Constance. The following he hath cometh 
 from no otherwhat than that he and his followers open the 
 way to a licentious and wanton way of living. In truth, he is 
 to be blamed and there should be no audience given to his 
 fables, which are all void of true foundation. Algates, I can- 
 not deny that the lewd life of many churchmen is a cause of 
 scandal to unstable minds, but it behoveth us not therefor to 
 fall away from the faith of our forefathers. Moreover, those 
 indiscreet and ignorant friars, ( whom we wot of) should, when 
 they are in the pulpit, take good heed lest they say ought to 
 the people which may give rise to scandal and not (whereas 
 they ought to incite their hearers to devoutness) provoke them 
 to indecent laughter, the which nowadays bringeth the things 
 of the faith into little esteem. I am not presently concerned to 
 speak of the follies which idiots oftentimes say in the pulpit, 
 but will speak of those who follow indiscreetly after certain la- 
 l>les which bring preachments into derision, as it befel Fra Ber- 
 nardino da Peltro in Pavia, according to that which I heard one 
 day told of Fra Filippo da San Columbano, a minor Brother of 
 the Franciscan Order, who, being in company of certain gen- 
 tlemen at their place of the Garden in Milan, related the thing 
 for their diversion, as it happened in the days when he was a 
 student of the law at Pavia, and for that it is a thing to be 
 noted, I have chosen to send and give it to you, so that, we be- 
 ing of one blood, you may eke be a sharer in my novels. Fare 
 you well. 
 
 THE SIXTH STORY. 
 
 Fra Bernardino da Peltro, seeking to set St. Francis over all the othet 
 saints, is confounded by a student. 
 
 You must know, sirs, that when I was a student and abode 
 at Pavia to learn the civil law, Fra Bernardino da Peltro, a man 
 of exceeding consideration in our order, preached a whole year 
 long in the Cathedral Church of Pavia to as great a concourse 
 as was ever seen in that city. He had preached the foregone 
 year at Brescia, where he had let publicly burn in the market-
 
 MATTEO BANDEUX). 105 
 
 place the false tresses which the women wore on their heads, 
 to enhance their native beauty, and other like womanish vanities. 
 Moreover, he let burn all such copies of Martial's Epigrams as 
 were in the city, and did many other things worthy of memory. 
 Now, being in the pulpit at Pavia on the feast day of our Sera- 
 phic Father St. Francis, he entered, in the presence of a great 
 concourse of people, upon discourse of the many virtues of that 
 saint, and having descanted thereon at large and recounted 
 store of miracles by him wroughten in his life and after his 
 death, he bestowed on him all those praises, excellences and 
 dignities which behoved unto the sanctity of so glorious a father; 
 and having, by most effectual arguments, authorities and exam- 
 ples, proved that he was full of all the Christian graces and 
 was altogether serafic and afire with charity, he kindled into 
 an exceeding fervor and said, "What seat now shall we assign 
 thee in heaven, holiest father mine ? Where shall we set thee, 
 O vessel full of every grace ? What place shall we find apt un- 
 to such sanctity?" Then, beginning with the virgins, he as- 
 cended to the confessors, the martyrs, the apostles, to Saint 
 John Baptist and other prophets and patriarchs, still avouching 
 that St. Francis merited a more honored place than they; after 
 which, raising his voice, he went on to say, "O saint most 
 truly glorious, thou, whom thy most godly gifts and sing- 
 ular merits and the conformity of thy life unto Christ exalt and 
 uplift over all the other saints, what place shall we find sorting 
 with such excellence ! Tell me, my brethern, where shall we 
 set him ? Tell me, you, gentlemen students, who are of exalt- 
 ed understanding, where shall we place this most holy saint ?" 
 Whereupon Messer Paolo Taegio, then a student of laws and 
 nowadays a very famous doctor in Milan, who was seated on a 
 stool over against the pulpit, being weary of the friar's useless 
 and indiscreet babble and belike misdoubting him he meant 
 to put St Francis above or at least on a level with the Holy 
 Trinity, rose to his feet and uplifting his settle with both hands, 
 said so loudly that he was heard of all people, "Father mine, 
 for God's sake, give yourself no more pains to seek a seat for 
 St. Francis ; here is my settle ; put him thereon and so he may 
 sit down, for I am off." And so, departing he gave occasion
 
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 unto all to arise also and depart the church ; therefore it be- 
 hoved the Feltrine come down from'the pulpit, without finding 
 a place for his saint, and return, all crestfallen, to San Giaco- 
 mo. And indeed that which a man saith in the pulpit should 
 be well considered, lest indiscreet preachments bring the word 
 of God into derision. 
 
 Bandello to the right illustrious and valiant Signor Livio Liviani, 
 Captain of Light Horse. 
 
 Albeit we are here in Chierasco in daily expectation of the 
 Emperor's army, numerous in Italian, German and Spanish 
 footmen, who threaten to send us all underground, there is not 
 withal the least sign of fear to be seen in these our soldiers ; 
 nay, meseemeth they await the siege with an inexpressible al- 
 legresse, as they were to have double or treble pay, over and 
 above their due wage. I hear from every quarter that all are 
 prepared to give the enemy such an account of their valour and 
 to make such approof of themselves that I cannot believe but 
 we shall abide with the honour of the emprise ; more by 
 token that my patron, Signor Cesare Fregoso, although pre- 
 viously sick of a violent fever, leaveth nothing undone that 
 may be to our profit and the enemy's hurt. Moreover, your 
 coming voluntarily to shut yourself up here, on your way to 
 the court of the Most Christian King, giveth me good aug- 
 ury and maketh me hope from good to better, and so our Lord 
 God grant that it ensue ! Now, betaking myself, three days 
 agone, to the bastion over against the San Francisco gate, I 
 found there many good fellows in discourse of the various 
 usances of men of various nations concerning drinking, and 
 among them were many different opinions ; but, it having been 
 debated amain of the matter, L,udovico da Sanseverino, who 
 was in command of the bastion, a discreet youth and doughty 
 of his person, recounted a pleasant anecdote to the purpose ; 
 which pleasing me, I wrote it down and send and give it unto 
 you, seeing how much appreciation you still show of my com- 
 positions. Fare you well.
 
 MATTEO BANDEUX). loy 
 
 THE THIRTEENTH STORY. 
 
 A quaint and merry saying of a German anent drinking at a public 
 festival holden at Naples. 
 
 We do but cudgel our brains in vain, comrades mine, an we 
 think to say determinately that such a nation drinketh more 
 than such another, for that of every nation I have seen very 
 great drinkers and have found many Germans and Frenchmen 
 who love water nacre than wine. True, it seemeth there are 
 some nations who love wine more than others ; but in effect 
 all are mighty fain to drink. I warrant me, indeed, I have 
 known Italians so greedy and such drinkers that they would 
 not yield to whatsoever famous winebibber amongst the Albani- 
 ans, or the Germans. And what would you say if I should 
 name to you a Lombard, whom I have seen toast it with Ger- 
 mans at a German Cardinal's table and overcome them all, and 
 eke carry off the Bacchic palm amongst, the Albanians? The 
 French drink often and will have good and costly wines, but 
 water them well and drink little at a time. The Albanians 
 and Germans will have the beaker full, and would fain be 
 winebibbing from morning to night. Nay, the Spaniard, who at 
 home drinketh water, an he drink at another's expense, will 
 hold the basin to any one's beard. However, in general, me- 
 thinketh the Germans of every sort and condition, whether no- 
 bles or commons, gentle or simple, love better than any other 
 nation to play at drinking and publicly fuddle themselves at 
 noblemen's tables, so that needs must one after another be 
 carried home drunken and senseless ; nor is this accounted a 
 shame among them. And to this purpose, remembering me 
 of a goodly saying of a German I will tell you a pleasant 
 anecdote. 
 
 After Francesco Sforza, first of that name, Duke of Milan, 
 to maintain peace in Italy, made the famous league and union 
 of all the Italian powers, in the time of Pope Pius the Second, 
 he married Ippolita his daughter to Alphonso of Arragon, first- 
 born son of King Ferdinand the Old of Naples, where the nup- 
 tials were solemnized with all pomp and splendor, as behoved 
 unto two such princes. All the princes of Italy sent ambassa- 
 dors to honor the nuptials, and Duke Francesco appointed the
 
 108 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 bride an escort of the most worshipful feudatories and gentle- 
 men of Lombardy. Now, among many other festivities, car- 
 rousels and sports which were holden, there was ordained a 
 solemn and most magnificent tournament, which befell one day 
 of exceeding great heat, for it was then in June. The j ousters 
 appeared all arrayed in the richest of accoutrements, with 
 quaint and well-ordered devices, according to each one's humor, 
 and mounted on fiery and spirited horses. All ran and many 
 lances were broken, to the honor of the jousters and the no 
 small pleasure of the spectators. The jousts ended, there was 
 naught heard but praise of these and those and sayings such 
 as, "Such a lord hath broken so many lances," "Such a baron 
 hath made so many strokes," "Such a knight hath done so 
 and so, and such another so and so." But behold, what time 
 silence was made to proclaim who had the honours of the 
 tournament, a German in one of the galleries, without waiting 
 for the victory to be declared, fell to crying out and saying, as 
 loudliest he might, ' ' For my part, accursed be that sport and 
 and accursed be all the festivals and carrousels whereat folk 
 drink not !" You need not ask if there was matter for laugh- 
 ter, more by token that he fell to crying, ' 'Wine ! wine ! 
 wine !" wherefore I know not if there was ever a word spoken 
 among such a multitude whereat it was laughed so much as it 
 was for a pretty while at this speech of the German's. 
 
 BENVENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 Born at Florence, 1500. At the age of fifteen apprenticed to a gold- 
 smith ; aided the pontifical forces in the attack on Rome by the Consta- 
 ble de Bourbon in 1527; produced works of art in Rome, Florence and 
 Paris. Besides medals, and vessels of gold and silver, his most disting- 
 uished work is the Perseus, placed in front of the old Ducal Palace in 
 Florence. Wrote treatises on the goldsmith's art, on sculpture, and on 
 -design; but the most important of his writings is the Autobiography. 
 Died at Florence in 1569. 
 
 Certain of his Exploits at the Sack of Rome, 1527* 
 
 XXXVII. I pursued my business of artilleryman, and every 
 day performed some extraordinay feat, whereby the credit and 
 the favour I acquired with the Pope was something indescriba- 
 
 * From Symonds' translation of the Life of Benvenuto Cellini.
 
 BENVENUTO CELLINI. 109- 
 
 ble. There never passed a day but what I killed one or an- 
 other of our enemies in the besieging army. On one occasion 
 the Pope was walking round the circular keep, when he ob- 
 served a Spanish Colonel in the Prati ; he recognized the man 
 by certain indications, seeing that this officer had formerly been 
 in his service ; and while he fixed his eyes on him, he kept 
 talking about him. I, above by the Angel, knew nothing of 
 all this, but spied a fellow down there, busying himself about 
 the trenches with a javelin in his hand ; he was dressed entire- 
 ly in rose-color ; and so, studying the worst that I could do 
 against him, I selected a gerfalcon which I had at hand ; it is 
 a piece of ordnance larger and longer than a swivel, and about 
 the size of a demi-culverin. This I emptied, and loaded it again 
 with a good charge of fine powder mixed with the coarser sort ; 
 then I aimed it exactly at the man in red, elevating prodig- 
 iously, because a piece of that calibre could hardly be expected 
 to carry true at such a distance. I fired, and hit my man ex- 
 actly in the middle. He had trussed his sword in front, for 
 swagger, after a way those Spaniards have ; and my ball, when 
 it struck him, broke upon the blade, and one could see the fel- 
 low cut in two fair halves. The Pope, who was expecting 
 nothing of this kind, derived great pleasure and amazement 
 from the sight, both because it seemed to him impossible that 
 one should aim and hit the mark at such a distance, and also 
 because the man was cut in two, and he could not comprehend 
 how this should happen. He sent for me, and asked about it. 
 I explained all the devices I had used in firing ; but told him 
 that why the man was cut in halves, neither he nor I could 
 know. 
 
 Upon my bended knees I then besought him to give the par- 
 don of his blessing for that homicide ; and for all the others I 
 had committed in the castle in the service of the Church. 
 Thereat the Pope, raising his hand, and making a large open 
 sign of the cross upon my face, told me that he blessed me, and 
 that he gave me pardon for all murders I had ever perpetrated; 
 or should ever perpetrate, in the service of the Apostolic Church. 
 When I left him, I went aloft, and never stayed from firing to 
 the utmost of my power ; and few were the shots of mine that
 
 110 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 missed their mark. My drawing, and my fine studies in my 
 craft and my charming art of music, all were swallowed up in 
 the din of that artillery ; and if I were to relate in detail all the 
 splendid things I did in that infernal work of cruelty, I should 
 make the world stand by and wonder. But, not to be too pro- 
 lix, I will pass them over. Only I must tell a few of the most 
 remarkable : which are, as it were, forced in upon me. 
 
 To begin then : pondering day and night what I could ren- 
 der for my own part in defence of Holy Church, and having 
 noticed that the enemy changed guard and marched past 
 through the great gate of Santo Spirito, which was within a 
 reasonable range, I thereupon directed my attention to that 
 spot ; but, having to shoot sideways, I could not do the dam- 
 age that I wished, although I killed a fair percentage every day. 
 This induced our adversaries, when they saw their passage 
 covered by my guns, to load the roof of a certain house one 
 night with thirty gabions, which obstructed the view I form- 
 erly enjoyed. Taking better thought than I had done of the 
 whole situation, I now turned all my five pieces directly on the 
 gabions, and waited till the evening hour, when they changed 
 guard. Our enemies, thinking they were safe, came on at 
 greater ease and in a closer body than usual ; whereupon I set 
 fire to my blow-pipes. Not merely did I dash to pieces the 
 gabions which stood in my way ; but what was better, by that 
 one blast I slaughtered more than thirty men. In consequence 
 of this manoeuvre, which I repeated twice, the soldiers were 
 thrown into such disorder, that being, moreover, encumbered 
 with the spoils of that great sack, and some of them desirous of 
 enjoying the fruits of their labour, they oftenimes showed a 
 mind to mutiny and take themselves away from Rome. How- 
 ever, after coming to terms with their valiant captain, Gian di 
 Urbino, they were ultimately compelled, at their excessive in- 
 convenience, to take another road when they changed guard. It 
 cost them three miles of march, whereas before they had but a 
 half mile. Having achieved this feat, I was entreated with 
 prodigious favours by all the men of quality who were invested 
 in the castle. This incident was so important that I thought 
 it well to relate it, before finishing the history of things outside
 
 BENVENUTO CEUJNI. Ill 
 
 my art, the which is the real object of my writing ; forsooth, if 
 I wanted to ornament my biography with such matters, I 
 should have far too much to tell. 
 
 Fixing the Value of the Perseus. 
 
 XCV. Next day I presented myself, and, after a few words 
 of conversation, the Duke addressed me cheerfully: "To- 
 morrow, without fail, I mean to dispatch your business ; set 
 your mind at rest, then." I, who felt sure that he meant what 
 he said, waited with great impatience for the morrow. When 
 the longed for day arrived, I betook me to the palace ; and as 
 it always happens that evil tidings travel faster than good news, 
 Messers Giacopo Guidi, secretary to his excellency, called me 
 with his wry mouth and haughty voice ; drawing himself up 
 as stiff as a poker, he began to speak to this effect : ' 'The 
 Duke says he wants you to tell him how much you ask for your 
 Perseus. ' ' I remained dumbfounded and astounded ; yet I 
 quickly replied that it was not my custom to put prices on my 
 work, and that this was not what his Excellency had promised 
 me two days ago. The man raised his voice, and ordered me 
 expressly in the Duke's name, under penalty of his severe dis- 
 pleasure, to say how much I wanted. Now I had hoped not 
 only to gain some handsome reward, trusting to the mighty 
 signs of kindness shown me by the Duke, but I had still more 
 expected to secure the entire good graces of his Excellency, 
 seeing I never asked for anything, but only for his favour. Ac- 
 cordingly, this wholly unexpected way of dealing with me put 
 me in a fury, and I was especially enraged by the manner 
 which that venomous toad assumed in discharging his commis- 
 sion. I exclaimed that if the Duke gave me ten thousand 
 crowns I could not be paid enough, and that if I had ever 
 thought things would come to this haggling, I should not have 
 settled in his service. Thereupon the surly fellow began to 
 abuse me, and I gave it him back again. 
 
 Upon the following day, when I paid my respects to the 
 Duke, he beckoned to me. I approached, and he exclaimed in 
 anger : "Cities and great palaces are built with ten thousands 
 of ducats. ' ' I rejoined : ' 'Your Excellency can find multitudes
 
 112 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 of men who are able to build your cities and palaces, but you 
 will not, perhaps, find one man in the world who could make 
 a second Perseus." Then I took my leave without saying or 
 doing anything farther. A few days afterwards the Duchess 
 sent for me, and advised me to put my difference with the 
 Duke into her hands, since she thought she could conduct the 
 business to my satisfaction. On hearing these kindly words, I 
 replied that I had never asked any other recompense for my 
 labours than the good graces of the Duke, and that his most 
 illustrious Excellency had assured me of this ; it was not need- 
 ful that I should place in their Excellencies' hands what I had 
 always frankly left to them from the first days when I under- 
 took their service. I farther added that if his most illustrious 
 Excellency gave me but a crazia, which is worth five farthings, 
 for my work, I should consider myself contented, provided 
 only that his Excellency did not deprive me of his favour. At 
 these words the Duchess smiled a little and said : "Benvenuto, 
 you would do well to act as I advise you." Then she turned 
 her back and left me. I thought it was my best policy to speak 
 with the humility I have above described ; yet it turned out 
 that I had done the worst for myself, because, albeit she had 
 harboured some angry feelings toward me, she had in her a cer- 
 tain way of dealing which was generous. 
 
 XCVL About that time I was very intimate with Girolamo 
 degli Albizzi, commissary of the Duke's militia. One day this 
 friend said to me : "O Benvenuto, it would not be a bad thing 
 to put your little difference of opinion with the Duke to rights; 
 and I assure you that if you repose confidence in me, I feel 
 myself the man to settle matters. I know what I am saying. 
 The Duke is really getting angry, and you will come badly out 
 of the affair. L<et this suffice ; I am not at liberty to say all I 
 know." Now, subsequently to that conversation with the 
 Duchess, I had been told by some one, possibly a rogue, that 
 he had heard how the Duke said upon some occasion which 
 offered itself : "For less than two farthings I will throw Perseus 
 to the dogs, and so our differences will be ended." 
 
 This, then, made me anxious, and induced me to intrust 
 Girolamo delgi Albizzi with the negotiations, telling him any-
 
 BENVENUTO CELLINI. 113 
 
 thing would satisfy me provided I retained the good graces of 
 the Duke. That honest fellow was excellent in all his dealings 
 with soldiers, especially with the militia, who are for the most 
 part rustics ; but he had no taste for statuary, and therefore 
 could not understand its conditions. Consequently, when he 
 spoke to the Duke, he began thus : "Prince, Benvenuto has 
 placed himself in my hands, and has begged me to recommend 
 him to your Excellency. ' ' The Duke replied : "I too am will- 
 ing to refer myself to you, and shall be satisfied with your de- 
 cision." Thereupon Girolamo composed a letter, with much 
 skill and greatly to my honour, fixing the sum which the Duke 
 would have to pay me at 3,500 golden crowns ; and this should 
 not be taken as my proper recompense for such a masterpiece, 
 but only as a kind of gratuity ; enough to say that I was satis- 
 fied ; with many other phrases of like tenor, all of which im- 
 plied the price which I have mentioned. 
 
 The Duke signed this agreement as gladly as I took it sadly. 
 When the Duchess heard, she said : "It would have been bet- 
 ter for that poor man if he had placed himself in my hands ; I 
 could have got him five thousand crowns in gold." One day 
 when I went to the palace, she repeated these same words to- 
 me in the presence of Messer Alamanno Salviati, and laughed 
 at me a little, saying that I deserved my bad luck. 
 
 The Duke gave orders that I should be paid a hundred golden 
 crowns in gold per month, until the sum was discharged ; and 
 thus it ran for some months. Afterwards, Messer Antonio de r 
 Nobili, who had to transact the business, began to give me fifty,, 
 and sometimes later on he gave me twenty-five, and sometimes- 
 nothing. Accordingly, when I saw that the settlement was 
 being thus deferred, I spoke good-humoredly to Messer An- 
 tonio, and begged him to explain why he did not complete my 
 payments. He answered in a like tone of politeness ; yet it 
 struck me that he exposed his own mind too much. L,et the 
 reader judge. He began by saying that the sole reason why 
 he could not go forward regulary with these payments, was 
 the scarcity of money at the palace; but he promised, when cash 
 came in, to discharge arrears. Then he added, "Oh heavens ! 
 if I did not pay you, I should be an utter rogue." I was
 
 114 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 somewhat surprised to hear him speak in that way ; yet I 
 resolved to hope that he would pay me when he had the power 
 to do so. But when I observed that things went quite the con- 
 trary way, and saw that I was being pillaged, I lost temper 
 with the man, and recalled to his memory hotly and in anger 
 what he had declared he would be if he did not pay me. How- 
 ever, he died ; and five hundred crowns are still owing me at 
 the present date, which is nigh upon the end of 1566. There 
 was also a balance due upon my salary, which I thought would 
 be forgotten, since three years had elapsed without payment. 
 But it so happened that the Duke fell ill of a serious malady. 
 Finding that the remedies of his physicians availed nothing, 
 it is probable that he betook himself to God, and therefore de- 
 creed the discharge of all debts to his servants. I too was paid 
 on this occasion, yet I never obtained what still stood out upon 
 my Perseus. 
 
 XCVIL I had almost determined to say nothing more about 
 that unlucky Perseus ; but a most remarkable incident, which 
 I do not like to omit, obliges me to do so ; wherefore I must 
 now turn back a bit, to gather up the thread of my narration. 
 I thought I was acting for the best when I told the 
 Duchess that I could not compromise affairs which were no 
 longer in my hands, seeing I had informed the Duke that I 
 should gladly accept whatever he choose to give me. I said 
 this in the hope of gaining favour ; and with this manifestation 
 of submissiveness I employed every likely means of pacifying 
 his resentment ; for I ought to add that a few days before he 
 came to terms with Albizzi, the Duke had shown he was ex- 
 cessively displeased with me. The reason was as follows : I 
 complained of some abominable acts of injustice done to me by 
 Mes^er Alfonso Quistelli, Messer Jacopo Polverino of the Ex- 
 chequer, and more than all by Ser Giovanbattista Brandini of 
 Volterra. When, therefore, I set forth my cause with some 
 vehemence, the Duke flew into the greatest rage conceivable. 
 Being thus in anger, he exclaimed : "This is just the same as 
 with your Perseus, when you asked those ten thousand crowns. 
 You let yourself be blinded by mere cupidity. Therefore I 
 shall have the statue valued, and shall give you what the ex-
 
 BENVENUTO CELLINI. 115 
 
 perts think it worth." To these words I replied with too much 
 daring and a touch of indignation, which is always out of place 
 in dealing with great princes: "How is it possible that my 
 work should be valued at its proper worth, when there is not a 
 man in Florence capable of performing it ? " That increased his 
 irritation ; he uttered many furious phrases, and among them 
 said: "There is in Florence at this day a man well able to make 
 such a statue, and who is therefore nighty capable of judging 
 it." He meant Bandinello, Cavaliere of S. Jacopo. Then I 
 rejoined : "My lord, your most illustrious Excellency gave 
 me the means of producing an important and very difficult 
 master-piece in the midst of this the noblest school of the world; 
 and my work has been received with warmer praises than any 
 other heretofore exposed before the gaze of our incomparable 
 masters. My chief pride is the commendation of those able 
 men who both understand and practise the art of design as in 
 particular Bronzino, the painter ; this man set himself to work, 
 and composed four sonnets couched in the choicest style, and 
 full of honor to myself. Perhaps it was his example which 
 moved the whole city to such a tumult of enthusiasm. I freely 
 admit that if sculpture were his business instead of painting, 
 then Bronzino might have been equal to a task like mine. 
 Michel Agnolo Buonarroti, again, whom I am proud to call my 
 master ; he, I admit, could have achieved the same success 
 when he was young, but not with less fatigue and trouble than 
 I endured. But now that he is far advanced in years, he would 
 most certainly be found unequal to the strain. Therefore I 
 think I am justified in saying that no man known upon this 
 earth could have produced my Perseus. For the rest, my work 
 has received the greatest reward I could have wished for in this 
 world ; chiefly and especially because your most illustrious Ex- 
 cellency not only expressed yourself satisfied, but praised it far 
 more highly than any one beside. What greater and more 
 honorable prize could be desired by me ? I affirm most em- 
 phatically that your Excellency could not pay me with more 
 glorious coin, nor add from any treasury a wealth surpassing 
 this. Therefore I hold myself overpaid already, and return 
 thanks to your most illustrious Excellency with all my heart."
 
 Il6 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 The Duke made answer : "Probably you think I have not the 
 money to pay you. For my part, I promise you that I shall 
 pay you more for the statue than it is worth." Then I retort- 
 ed : "I did not picture to my fancy any better recompense from 
 your Excellency : yet I account myself amply remunerated by 
 that first reward which the school of Florence gave me. With 
 this to console me, I shall take my departure on the instaut, 
 without returning to the house you gave me, and shall never 
 seek to set my foot in this town again." We were just at S. 
 Felicitd, and his Excellency was proceeding to the palace. 
 When he heard these choleric words, he turned upon me in 
 stern anger and exclaimed : "You shall not go ; take heed }'ou 
 do not go !" Half terrified, I then followed him to the palace. 
 On arriving there, his Excellency sent for the Archbishop of 
 Pisa, named De'Bartolini, and Messer Pandolfo della Stuffa, re- 
 questing them to order Baccio Bandinello, in his name to ex- 
 amine well my Perseus and value it, since he wished to pay its 
 exact price. These excellent men went forthwith and per- 
 formed their embassy. In reply Bandinello said that he had 
 examined the statue minutely, and knew well enough what it 
 was worth ; but having been on bad terms otherwise with me 
 for some time past, he did not care to be entangled anyhow in my 
 affairs. Then they began to put a gentle pressure on him, 
 saying : "The Duke ordered us to tell you, under pain of his 
 displeasure, that you are to value the statue, and you may have 
 two or three days to consider your estimate. When you have 
 done so, tell us at what price it ought to be paid." He an- 
 swered that his judgment was already formed, that he could 
 not disobey the Duke, and that my work was rich and beauti- 
 tiful and excellent in execution ; therefore he thought six- 
 teen thousand crowns or more would not be an excessive 
 price for it. Those good and courteous gentlemen reported 
 this to the Duke, who was mightily enraged ; they also told the 
 same to me. I replied that nothing in the world would induce 
 me to take praise from Bandinello, "seeing that this bad man 
 speaks ill of everybody ." My words were carried to the Duke; 
 and that was the reason why the Duchess wanted me to place 
 the matter in her hands.
 
 THE RENAISSANCE IN GERMANY. 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE* 
 
 The humanistic movement in Germany repeats, in many par- 
 ticulars of its development, the features of the earlier and 
 greater Renaissance in Italy. It differs, however, from its 
 Italian prototype in this important particular at least, that the 
 various phases of its progress are compressed into a period of 
 little more than half a century, whereas the Italian movement 
 covers two centuries from its rise to its decline. Just before the 
 middle of the fifteenth century, Aeneas Sylvius, himself an ac- 
 complished man of letters, who had, moreover, as secretary at 
 the imperial court of Frederick III., abundant opportunity of 
 observing the intellectual development and tendencies of the 
 Germans, as the result of his experience declares that the Ger- 
 mans were still in their medieval period; that such intellectual 
 activity as they possessed was of a character exclusively theo- 
 logical; that they still moved within the narrow circle of schol- 
 asticism. "They are good people," he said, "but they are 
 not interested in the things that interest me." Of the nobleSj 
 the future patrons of humanism, he remarked further : "They 
 prefer horses and dogs to poets, and like horses and dogs, they 
 
 * So far as I am aware, there has been no special treatment in English 
 of the German humanistic movement, which for the sake of brevity has 
 been termed I hope without too much violence the "German Re- 
 naissance." It seemed not inappropriate, therefore, to preface the selec- 
 tions offered here with a few remarks upon the significance and character 
 of that general intellectual quickening in German lands, whose genial 
 activity was merged in the struggles of the Reformation. The following 
 account will seem less meagre if taken in connection with the intro- 
 ductory notices placed at the head of the various selections. Upon this 
 subject compare Van Dyke: "The Age of the Renaissance," Scribners, 
 1897, an excellent account in so far as the limits of the work permit; also 
 "The Renaissance," by Philip Schaff, Putnams, 1891. 
 
 (H7)
 
 Il8 SOURCE BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 shall go down fameless unto death." Yet such a Renaissance 
 as Germany possesses lies between these experiences of Aeneas 
 Sylvius and the end of the first quarter of the following century, 
 when Luther's bold and cumulative attack upon the church of 
 Rome turned the interests of young Germany from the sunny 
 fields of humanism into a new arena of theological struggle. 
 
 Certain conditions existed, however, favorable for a rapid 
 development of humanistic ideas in German}'. When that 
 country had arrived at a point where the more material needs 
 were satisfied, and a wider intellectual field was necessary for 
 continued expansion, the materials for the new learning were 
 found, already elaborated, beyond the Alps. The early steps 
 had been taken there, the slow and tedious preliminary work 
 had been accomplished, the enormous task of bringing to light 
 the remains of classical culture ; even the preparation of ele- 
 mentarj' treatises, whose object it was to prepare the mind for 
 the utilization of the recovered treasures; all this had been 
 done before the middle of the fifteenth century, and it only re 
 mained for the enterprising German pioneer to cross the Alps, 
 bring home the results of this tremendous labor, and give it a 
 form adapted for the German mind and inclination. 
 
 Moreover, when Germany entered upon her humanistic 
 career, a potent instrument had been prepared for the dissemi- 
 nation of the new ideas. In superseding the slow process of 
 manual reproduction, which consumed so much of the time and 
 strength of the Italian humanists from Petrarch on, the print- 
 ing-press gave a mighty impetus to the diffusion of the new 
 learning. It permitted the more advanced ideas, in so far as 
 they were consonant with the prevailing trend of thought, to 
 gain a rapid victory, accomplishing thereby in a brief period 
 what in a time of less perfect communication had required gen- 
 erations. It is on this account, perhaps, more than any other, 
 that we find Germany, within the space of half a century, pass- 
 ing rapidly through the various phases of humanistic develop- 
 ment, which in Italy required two centuries. 
 
 These phases are a series of stages in the emancipation of 
 thought, and its subsequent progress from a condition of lim- 
 ited theological interest, characteristic of the Middle Ages, to
 
 INTRODUCTION TO THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. IIQ 
 
 that condition which comprehends the wide range of human 
 interests which we call modern. Along this track of progress 
 are to be found a sequence of individuals, whom for purposes 
 of illustration and study it is convenient to arrange in groups, 
 and to characterize according to the degree of their advance- 
 ment. 
 
 We have at first, as in Italy, a group of early humanists, 
 who may be called the theological humanists, by way of indi- 
 cating that they are still largely under the influence of medi- 
 eval culture. Although working earnestly for the introduction 
 of humanistic studies into Germany, these men are not given 
 over unreservedly to classical ideals; they are disposed to elimi- 
 nate from the list of Greek and Latin authors those whose 
 works are in any respect imbued with an anti-Christian spirit; 
 their interest is not primarily in the works themselves, but in 
 their adaptation for Christian purposes. Humanists of this de- 
 scription were conscious of a divided allegiance, and it is im- 
 possible to resist the conviction that their arguments in favor 
 of the new learning are intended to serve quite as much for 
 self justification as for the persuasion of their readers. It is 
 quite in the nature of things that with these men youth is the 
 period of rationalism, and that as they advance toward the in- 
 evitable solution, in their individual cases, of the great prob- 
 lem of the future, their conservatism asserts itself and they re- 
 coil from the enterprises of their earlier days. Many of them, 
 in fact, revert to a condition of total obscurantism, and pass the 
 evening of life in retirement and religious meditation, doing 
 penance for the literary aberrations of their youth. 
 
 In Germany the theological group seems to include a great 
 part of the well-known men of letters. There are several rea- 
 sons for this. It is not strange that in a country where learn 
 ing had been almost exclusively an affair of the clergy, the first 
 recruits for humanism should be drawn from a class whose 
 earlier impressions rendered a separation from conventional 
 theological ideas a matter of great difficulty. Then, too, the 
 German mind, perhaps because less composite in origin, and 
 less subject to extraneous influences in its national develop- 
 ment, seems to have shown a relatively great tenacity in respect
 
 120 SOURCE-BOOK OP THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 to a small number of ideas, of which the religious idea had been 
 for generations one of the most prominent. Such men were 
 not likely to carry the new learning beyond the pale of Chris- 
 tianity, and their predominant number and influence gave to 
 the German Renaissance a more truly religious character and 
 a deeper sincerity of purpose than resulted from similar intel- 
 lectual impulses in Italy. It also happened that the leaders of 
 this group, men like Rudolf Agricola and Jakob Wimpheling, 
 turned their attention to educational matters and embodied 
 their principles in the organization of the German school sys- 
 tem. In the same manner the principals of the more important 
 secondary schools, as for example, Alexander Hegius, of De- 
 venter, were representatives of the same deeply religious 
 spirit, which was not without determining influence in their 
 contact with the rising generation of literary workers. 
 
 Another and later group of humanists maybe called, for want 
 of a better term, the scientific group. The chief characteristic 
 of its members is that their interest in the new learning is for 
 the thing itself, and not for the use to which it may be put in 
 advancing the interests of religion. They are not necessarily 
 irreligious ; in fact such an element has almost no representa- 
 tation in German humanism ; they have simply advanced to a 
 point, where, without denying that religion is one of the most 
 important, if tot the most important department of thought, 
 they recognize that the circle of human interests has grown to 
 embrace other considerations which, if not antagonistic, have 
 yet no necessary connection with religion. Another charac- 
 teristic of these humanists is that they are not necessarily 
 clergymen. The humanities have come by this time to attract 
 men from all departments of life. At the high tide of the Ger- 
 man Renaissance, at the close of the fifteenth century, lec- 
 turers upon theology, medicine and law were speaking to empty 
 benches ; the interests of the student body had turned toward 
 the new learning. The dethronement of theology, from its u- 
 preme position at the head of the university curriculum made 
 place for the introduction of other studies. Greek came more 
 and more to be the mark of a liberal education, and the knowl- 
 edge of a third tongue, Hebrew, was an indication of still
 
 INTRODUCTION TO THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 121 
 
 greater attainment. The field of speculation, loosed from its 
 medieval entanglement, drifted away from the sole contempla- 
 tion of the spiritual results of life, and came to include the facts 
 of material existence. History came to be regarded as some- 
 thing other than the melancholy confirmation of the results of 
 Adam's fall ; the world and its contents came to demand atten- 
 tion, a tendency stimulated by the recent extension of the 
 earth's known area. 
 
 This second group embraces a wide range of intellectual ef- 
 fort. To it belongs Erasmus, who, although conventionally and 
 properly religious in his observances, nevertheless affords at 
 every turn unquestionable evidence that the great interests of 
 his life are literary and not theological. To it belongs as well 
 von Hutten, in whom modernism has taken the form of a patri- 
 otic desire to throw aside the yoke and influence of Rome, 
 which had prevented the formation in Germany of a centralized 
 and homogeneous nation, capable of approaching successfully 
 the solution of modern problems. This aspiration is in itself 
 a recognition of the importance of human association for ma- 
 terial purposes, and a denial of the exclusive importance of such 
 association for the purpose of spiritual preparation and advance- 
 ment. In this group also we find the mathematicians, the 
 geographers and other men of science, whose industry responds 
 to the expanding needs of human effort. 
 
 Moreover, in the same association we find the purely literary 
 workers, the "poets," as all men were called at the time who 
 were capable of original literary production. These are the 
 men who seem least German, and most cosmopolitan ; they 
 more nearly reflect the contemporaneous idea of humanism in 
 Italy, the striving for a pure and graceful Latin diction. The 
 conditions of this form of literary work imply a contempt for 
 the vernacular and an emphasis upon the necessity for style, 
 even at the expense of content. Such skill, although highly 
 prized and greatly striven for by men everywhere in the Renais- 
 sance, has but the faintest meaning for posterity, whose inter- 
 est is in the spirit of the Renaissance rather than in its copy- 
 books. 
 
 With this preliminary classification of German humanists, it
 
 122 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 will be found profitable to approach the subject from another 
 standpoint, and to note the various centres of German life in 
 which humanistic effort finds its origin and support. In Italy 
 the universities were not centres of the new learning. Its 
 leaders were rather to be found in the courts of princes or in 
 the administrative bureaux of republics. This is largety due 
 to the fact that the universities of Italy had been for so long the 
 great professional school of Europe. The "bread-studies" 
 were too firmly entrenched there to be driven into a subordi- 
 nate position by mere cultural studies. In Germany, on the 
 other hand, the universities were relatively more numerous, of 
 later growth, and their interests less definitely determined. Lec- 
 turers upon poetry and classical authors found little difficulty 
 in filling their benches at the expense of the more respectable 
 departments. Progress in this direction, however, varied ac- 
 cording to the influence that presided over the direction of each 
 separate seat of learning. 1 At Cologne, for example, where 
 Dominican influences were paramount, the new learning was 
 looked upon as questionable; Erfurt on the other hand, owing 
 to the mild spirit there prevailing, became the true centre of 
 advance. Between these intellectual poles lay the other uni- 
 versities, inclining to this side or to the other, according as the 
 nature and traditional bias of the dominant territorial sovereign 
 determined. The fact that the study of the humanities afford- 
 ed preparation for no definite career, led to a vast increase in 
 the number of students whose residence at the university was 
 fixed by no particular curriculum, and in this manner to a feel- 
 ing of contempt for those degrees and titles which, in the case 
 of };he older studies, had been the necessary qualifications for 
 professional life. Again, by increasing the coctent of the uni- 
 versity curriculum, humanism discouraged the empty routine 
 of disputation upon points of infinitesimal importance, which in 
 medieval times made up so considerable a part of university 
 work. 
 
 'The universities of Germany at this period were: Prague (1348), 
 Vienna (1365), Heidelberg (1385), Cologne (1388), Erfurt (1392), Leipzig 
 (1409), Rostock (1409), Griefswald (1456), Freiburg (1460), Basel (1460), 
 Ingolstadt (1472), Mainz (1476), Tubingen (1476), Wittenberg (1502) and 
 Frankfort-on the Oder (1506).
 
 INTRODUCTION TO THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 123 
 
 It was not in the universities alone that the new learning 
 made its influence felt. Its progress was marked in the great 
 secondary schools, such as Deventer, Miinster and Schlettstadt, 
 where thousands of young men secured such preparation as was 
 necessary to fit them for teaching and other intellectual em- 
 ployments, as well as for the advanced work of the universities. 
 The fact that it was the chief object of these schools to afford a 
 working knowledge of the Latin language made them espec- 
 ially susceptible to changes which had for their object a substi- 
 tution of classical models for the monkish Latin so generally in 
 use. This change made itself manifest in the employment of 
 new text-books in the place of the clumsy and inadequate 
 grammars and lexicons of the Middle Ages, and furthermore, 
 in the rejection of Latin writers of the declining Roman Em- 
 pire and of the schools, in favor of the more elegant authors of 
 classical antiquity. There also took place, in the more enter- 
 prising of the schools, an extension of the course of study, to 
 include at least the elements of Greek and Hebrew. 
 
 There is every reason to believe that an intense interest in 
 education reigned throughout Germany at the close of the fif- 
 teenth century, and that many of the prizes in official and in 
 public life were to be won through the instrumentality of the 
 new learning. The introduction of the Roman law into Ger- 
 many, the increase of international communication, both diplo- 
 matic and commercial, called for men of training and culture. 
 The crowds of scholars that thronged the highways leading to 
 the great towns, the large attendance at the universities and 
 the crowded condition of the lower schools give evidence of a 
 desire for intellectual advancement which, when the obstacles 
 in the path of the ambitious student are taken into the account, 
 has never been surpassed in subsequent times. 
 
 Other centres of humanism were the courts of princes. Not 
 only were skilled Latinists and students of the laws a necessary 
 adjunct to the establishments of rulers; their ornamental qual- 
 ities were equally in demand. After the middle of the fifteenth 
 century the greater German princes were sufficiently instructed 
 in the essentials of the new learning to recognize its import- 
 ance in measuring a ruler's appreciation of the modern spirit.
 
 124 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 Two emperors are associated with the Renaissance in Ger- 
 many. Frederick III., who reigned from 1440 until 1492, was 
 himself no humanist, either by education or by inclination, 
 and the constantly depleted condition of his treasury prevented 
 any considerable patronage of learning. It was only in the 
 reign of his son and successor Maximilian I., who by his mar- 
 riage with Mary of Burgundy added the rich provinces of the 
 Netherlands to the Hapsburg possessions, that the imperial 
 court became a potent factor in the Renaissance. Maximilian 
 was himself a humanist of no small pretensions. His political 
 duties, which were of the most complex and exacting nature, 
 gave him, it is true, little opportunity for actual composition; 
 but in addition to the fact that he made his court the centre of 
 intellectual activity, he even found time to evolve the material 
 for two narratives, the " Teuerdank" and the " Weisskunig," 
 which his secretaries, under his direction, cast into literary 
 form. A more important contribution, however, to the ad- 
 vancement of learning, was the stimulus he afforded to the 
 study of German history. His project for a great collection of 
 German monumenta remained for later and wealthier genera- 
 tions to carry out. 
 
 Maximilian's interest in the new learning was shown also in 
 his affection for the University of Vienna, and his personal at- 
 tention to its welfare. The proximity of Vienna to the Italian 
 lands was perhaps a reason why the intellectual development 
 at the imperial university was more of a piece with Italian 
 humanism than with the culture that prevailed at the northern 
 seats of learning. At Vienna the art of Latin poetry received 
 especial attention, and the greatest of the German stylists, Con- 
 rad Celtes, who produced many volumes of verse in the man- 
 ner of Ovid and other classical poets, found the atmosphere of 
 Vienna most conducive to this phase of humanism. Here, 
 under the auspices of Maximilian, a special faculty of poetry 
 was organized, and the laurel crown and other insignia were 
 conferred upon each applicant who gave satisfactory evidence 
 of possessing the qualifications of a professional verse-maker. 
 
 Of another character was the court of the Elector of Saxony 
 at Wittenberg. The Elector, Frederick the Wise, is an enig-
 
 INTRODUCTION TO THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 125 
 
 raatical character, whose characteristic silence passes, as is so 
 often the case, for evidence of latent strength. That strength, 
 however, was wanting at a critical moment in his career, when, 
 during Luther's absence at the Wartburg, the whole ecclesias- 
 tical and social edifice seemed likely to fall about his ears. The 
 Elector was much less a modern man than Maximilian, both in 
 training and in inclination. He knew little Latin, and his 
 newly-founded university at Wittenberg bade fair to be little 
 more than a feeble reflection of the great humanistic centre at 
 Erfurt, until the stirring events of 1517, so fatal to the purposes 
 of the humanists, drew the attention of the world upon the little 
 Saxon town and supplied the Elector with one of the great 
 r5!es of modern history. 
 
 A more truly humanistic centre was the archiepiscopal seat 
 of Mainz, where the young and energetic sovereign, Albert of 
 Brandenburg, archbishop, cardinal and elector, gathered about 
 him a coterie of scholars for the glory of his reign and the em- 
 bellishment of his court. So long as rivers constituted the 
 main avenues of intercourse in Europe, the Rhine valley ever 
 exhibited a stage of material and intellectual progress in ad- 
 vance of the less accessible portions of Germany. Mainz itself, 
 the seat of the new art of printing, the last station on the way 
 to the great fair at Frankfort, was a point of first importance 
 on this route of travel and exchange. Its university was in 
 touch with Cologne on the north and Heidelberg on the south, 
 and as temporal ruler of a wealthy and populous district the 
 Elector was one of the most powerful princes of Germany. 
 
 Next to the imperial and princely courts the cities were the 
 most important centres of the new learning. Particularly in 
 South Germany the fifteenth century witnessed a remarkable 
 urban development. Augsburg, Nuremberg, Ratisbon and Ulm, 
 distributing points for the swelling stream of Eastern wares 
 that poured into Central Europe by way of Venice and the 
 Alpine passes, became great centres of wealth, and brought 
 forward a new and powerful social element, the burgher class, 
 men of the new time, keenly alive lo the spirit of progress, un- 
 hampered with precedent and eager to take advantage of the 
 new opportunities of pressing forward to importance and dis-
 
 126 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 tinction. The sons of these shrewd tradesmen, reared in an 
 environment of industry and thrift, were much more likely to 
 qualify themselves for positions in private and in official life 
 requiring intellectual skill and technical knowledge, than the 
 sons of a rash and undisciplined nobility, accustomed only to 
 the pursuit of inclination and pleasure. 
 
 These men of the upper middle class aided the progress of 
 humanism in various ways by their patronage of artists and 
 literary men, for example. This was of especial value to liter- 
 ature at a time when the profits of publication could hardly be 
 expected to afford a livelihood. All over Europe we find 
 writers dedicating their works and fugitive pieces to men of 
 wealth and distinction, from whom an honorarium might be 
 expected in token of appreciation. To stand in epistolary re- 
 lations with so great a humanist as Erasmus was an honor 
 which many a wealthy burgher felt well worth a generous 
 purse. Even if he did not recognize that such intercourse 
 would snatch him from eventual oblivion, yet the fact that 
 Erasmus' letters became at once the property of the literary 
 world was sufficient to secure an honorable notice before his 
 contemporaries. Again, these humanistic proclivities, partic- 
 ularly in the time of Maximilian, were often sufficient to secure 
 intimate relations with the imperial crown. Conrad Peutinger 
 and Willibald Pirckheimer, distinguished representatives of the 
 burgher class in Augsburg and Nuremberg, not only materially 
 increased their local importance, but reflected lustre upon their 
 native cities by means of their intimate relations with the Em- 
 peror Maximilian and the assistance rendered him in his effort 
 to collect the monuments of German antiquity. Peutinger and 
 Pirckheimer were products of the best Italian and German cul- 
 ture, and were themselves productive humanists. Their wealth 
 enabled them not only to entertain and aid their companions 
 in letters, but also, by their patronage of artists and antiquaries, 
 to accumulate large private collections, in which prerogative of 
 wealth they were pioneers in Germany. Their affluence is in 
 direct contrast with the Grub-street conditions which prevailed 
 generally in literary circles at the time; but the contrast is soft- 
 ened and humanized by the fact that their wealth was so freely
 
 INTRODUCTION TO THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 127 
 
 employed, both in relieving the material needs of their literary 
 contemporaries, and in making possible the publication of their 
 works. 
 
 In another manner, however, the cities contributed even more 
 largely to the advancement of learning. Their liberality in the 
 foundation of bursaries made it possible for a multitude of 
 students from rural parts to obtain such education as only 
 towns afforded. In the eyes of the fifteenth century citizen 
 it was one of the essential attributes of a large and prosperous 
 town that it should be the educational centre of its commercial 
 territory ; and not only did the bursaries furnish lodging and 
 warmth during the winter season, but the citizens themselves 
 supported with alms a great body of poor students who spent 
 their afternoons in singing for bread through the streets. The 
 student and the street musician were one at the beginning of 
 modern times. 
 
 Another institution that contributed to the advancement and 
 direction of literary effort was the society of literati (sodalitas 
 literaria). There were two of these in Germany, the Danubian 
 and the Rhenish (sodalitates Danubiana et Rhenana). The 
 former had its permanent home a Vienna, where it enjoyed the 
 patronage of the Emperor, and the personal interests of its most 
 important member, Conrad Celtes, threw its activity almost 
 exclusively into the direction of verse production. The Rhen- 
 ish society had no such distinctive seat, but included in its 
 membership the patrician humanists of Augsburg and Nurem- 
 berg, the learned bishop of Worms, Johann vouDalberg, (1445- 
 1503), the Heidelberg literary group, and Johannes Trithemius 
 (1462-1516), abbot of Sponheim, famous not only for his gen- 
 eral literary activity, but also on account of his supposed magi- 
 cal powers to which a still credulous age attributed much im- 
 portance. 
 
 It is by comparing these German societies with the academies 
 of Italy that we are able to arrive at the general relation of the 
 German to the Italian Renaissance. The German movement 
 is of a homelier and less aspiring character. While the Flor- 
 entine academy sought nothing less than a restoration of Greek 
 philosophy, the Danubian society was content with paraphras-
 
 128 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 ing Ovid and Virgil. The Roman academy undertook to dis- 
 cern and interpret the antiquities of that centre of the classical 
 world, while the Rhenish society attempted nothing more am- 
 bitious than the publication of the works of the nun Hrots- 
 vitha. 
 
 But if German humanists failed to inoculate their fellow citi- 
 zens with the philosophic spirit of Greece and Rome, they at 
 least discovered many practical applications of their learning, 
 and opened the way toward a larger view of human life. That 
 the spirit of theological strife descended and closed this way, 
 and filled the arena with internecine struggle, so that for two 
 centuries Germany was shut out from the van of European 
 progress, was a result which the ablest of German humanists 
 predicted at the opening of the Lutheran controversy. It was 
 not the way Erasmus would have chosen. Whether it led, 
 after a lapse of centuries, to as good or to better results, is one 
 of the problems of history for whose solution the material will 
 ever be wanting. 
 
 LIST OF BOOKS ON THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 BIBLIOGRAPHIES : 
 
 Schaff, Philip : The Renaissance. Putnam, 1891. $1.50. This little 
 book of 132 pages in now somewhat difficult to obtain. It takes up the 
 subject of the Renaissance, both in Italy and in Germany. Chapter I. 
 is devoted to the "Literature of the Renaissance" (pp. 3-6). Each of 
 the 29 chapters following is prefaced with a special bibliography. 
 
 Cambridge Modern History (noted below). Extensive bibliographies, 
 topically arranged, are to be found in Vol. I., The Renaissance, pp. 
 693-792. 
 
 SETS : 
 
 1. The "Oncken" Series: Allgemeine Geschichte in Einzeldarstel- 
 lungen. Berlin, 1880, ff. The volume on the Renaissance is by Geiger, 
 Ludwig : Renaissance und Humanismus in Italien und Deutschland. 
 1882. Part II. deals with Germany u chapters : i, The Forerunners 
 2, Emperor and princes 3, The German Cities 4, The Schools 5, The 
 Universities 6, General Dissemination of Humanism 7, Poetry and the 
 Poets 8, A Glance at the Development of Science 9, Johann Reuchlin 
 10, Desiderius Erasmus n, Ulrich von Hutten. Literary Notices for 
 the Second Book, pp. 573-580. 
 
 2. Lavisse et Rambaud : Histoire Ginirale. 12 vol. Paris. Colin,
 
 INTRODUCTION TO THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 129 
 
 1893, ff. Price, unbound, 12 francs per volume. Vol. III. contaius a 
 chapter (Chapter XII.), by G. Blondel, entitled "Germany," which deals 
 with the political and social conditions in Germany in the second half 
 of the fifteenth century. Volume IV. contains a chapter (Chapter X), 
 by E. Denis, entitled "Germany and the Reformation." Section I., 
 " Germany before Luther," describes the intellectual conditions of the 
 time. Book Notes follow each chapter in this work. 
 
 3. Ward, A. W., and others, editors : The Cambridge Modern History ^ 
 Macmillan, 1902, ff. Volume I., issued in 1902, is called " 7 he Renais- 
 sance. 1 " Pp. 807. 3.75. There are 19 contributions. Chapters of es- 
 pecial interest in connection with the German Renaissance are Chap. 9, 
 Germany and the Empire; 13, The Netherlands; 15, Economic Changes 
 (Cunningham); 16, The Classical Renaissance (Jebb); 17, The Christian 
 Renaissance. 
 
 GENERAL WORKS : 
 
 Van Dyke, Paul: The Age of the Renaissance; one of the "Ten 
 Epochs of Church History." Scribner. $2.00. Pp. 397. Contains a 
 very good treatment of the Reuchlin controversy and other phases of the 
 German Renaissance. 
 
 Voigt, Georg : Die Wiederlebung des classichen Allerthums. 2 vols. 
 Berlin, 1893. Pp. 591, 543. 20 marks, unbound. Book VI. is entitled 
 "The Propaganda of Humanism beyond the Alps." 
 
 Creighton, Man dell : A History of the Papacy from the great Schisnt- 
 to the Sack of Rome. 6 vols. Longmans. Each volume, $2.00. 
 
 Pastor, Ludwig : The History of the Popes from the Close of the Middle 
 Ages. Herder. St. Louis, 1898. 6 vols., each, $3.00. 
 
 Henderson, Ernest F. : A Short History of Germany. 2 vols. Mac- 
 millan, 1902. 14.00. Vol. I., Chap. X., "German Life on the Eve of 
 the Reformation." An exceedingly interesting narrative. 
 
 Janssen, Johannes : History of the German People at the Close of the 
 Middle Ages. Translation from the German. Herder. St. Louis, 1896., 
 Four volumes have been translated, and are sold at the rate of two vols.- 
 for $6.25. Vol. I. (354. pages) contains: Book I, Popular Education, 
 Schools, Universities II, Art and Popular Literature III, Political 
 Economy (Agriculture, Industry, Commerce and Capital) IV, Holy 
 Roman Empire (political status of Germany). The wotk is scholarly 
 anl gives a very different picture of Germany at the close of the 15th- 
 century from that presented by the Protestant historians. 
 
 Bax, Belfort : German Society at the Close of the Middle Ages. Mac- 
 millan, 1894. $1.75. Contains valuable material on German commerce 
 at the close of the rsth century in Appendix "A." 
 
 Rashdall, H : The Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages. 2 vols. 
 Clarendon Press. $14.00. Volume I , Chapter IX. is entitled " Univer- 
 sities of Germany, Bohemia and the Low Countries."
 
 130 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 RUDOLF AGRICOLA 
 
 Rudolf Agricola, or Rudolf Husmann as he was called before the adop- 
 tion of his scholarly name, was born in 1443 near Groningen in Friesland. 
 His parents were in modest circumstances. Agricola received his ele- 
 mentary education in Groningeu ; at Erfurt he attained to his baccalaureate 
 degree and went thence to Lowen in Brabant for mathematics and phil- 
 osopy. Agricola's disposition is shown by the fact that during hisresi 
 dence in Brabant he avoided, so far as possible, the rough and roystering 
 life of his countrymen, and sought the more refined and elegant society 
 of the French. At the age of sixteen he received the master's degree at 
 Lowenj and contiuued his theological studies at Cologne. At the age of 
 23 he went to Pavia, and there took up the study of law, in accordance 
 with the wish of his family and friends. His interest in the law was 
 feeble, however, and as time advanced he gave himself up to the study of 
 classical literature. In Pavia he became acquainted with Johann von 
 Dal berg, who afterwards became bishop of Worms, and remained on terms 
 of intimacy with this influential man during the remainder of his life. In 
 order to pursue to better advantage the study of Greek, Agricola went to 
 Ferrara, where he remained six or seven years at the court of Hercules 
 at Este. His presence here was the more appreciated an account of his 
 musical skill and his contribution to the services of the ducal chapel. 
 
 Upon Agricola's return from Italy he spent three years in his native 
 country, residing mostly in Groningen. In 1484, at the urgent request 
 of his friend, von Dalberg, who in 1482 had been chosen bishop of 
 Worms, he made his residence at Heidelberg. Here he took up the study 
 of Hebrew, with the intention of revising the Latin version of the Old 
 Testament. In 1485 von Dalberg and Agricola made the journey to Rome 
 together. On the homeward journey he fell sick and reached Heidelberg 
 only to die in the arms of his friend and patron, at the age of 46. 
 
 In his habits and talk Agricola more nearly resembled the Italians than 
 the Germans of his time. His interests were in music and painting, 
 rather than in the coarser pleasures of his countrymen. One of the 
 earliest of German humanists, his inclinations and extensive Italian ex- 
 perience made him the most polished of the group. 
 
 Agricola's chief work was De inventione dialectica, begun in Ferrara 
 and finished in 1479 * n Germany. He left also many letters, several 
 translations and lesser works, including a biography of Petrarch (written 
 at Pavia in 1477), whose personality he much admired. 
 
 FROM A r.ETTER TO JACOB BARBIRIANTJS.* 
 
 In the arrangement of your studies two considerations, it 
 
 *Sammlung der bedeutendsten p&dagogischen Schriften aus alter und 
 neuer Zeit. istes Band. Paderborn, 1893.
 
 RUDOLPH AGRICOI,A. 131 
 
 seems to me, come prominently forward. In the first place, it 
 is necessary to determine what department of knowledge shall 
 be chosen. Then you must consider by what method it is pos- 
 sible to achieve the greatest success in the department already 
 chosen. I wish to make myself clear on both these points. 
 For some persons the compelling force of circumstances, having 
 its origin either in external conditions or in natural capacity, 
 determines the choice of a profession. Others, on the contrary, 
 turn with a freedom of selection to that which they hold to be 
 the best. If, for example, one has limited resources, he turns 
 to that occupation in which he may hope to secure for himself, 
 in the briefest possible space of time, the means for satisfying 
 the needs of his existence. If, furthermore, one is by nature 
 less energetic and possesses a weak intelligence, then for fear 
 of wasting his effort he may not select that department which 
 in fact most appeals to him, but will be obliged to select that 
 in which he may achieve the greatest success. In the same 
 way would he err, to whom abundant means and fortunate 
 spiritual gifts have been confided, if with all his strength he 
 did not pursue the highest aims, or, if able to reach the high- 
 est place, he should content himself with the second or the 
 third. Therefore one chooses the civil, another the canon law, 
 and still a third medicine. Very many devote themselves to 
 those wordy utterances resounding with empty verbal contests, 
 which are so often mistaken for knowledge. They pass their 
 days in labored and interminable disputations, or, to use an ex- 
 pression much to the point, with riddles, which in the course 
 of many centuries have found no Oedipus to solve them, nor 
 ever will find him. With these things they torture the ears of 
 the unfortunate youth. Such nourishmemt they provide for 
 their pupils, with force, so to speak. In this manner they kill 
 the most promising talents, and destroy the fruit while yet in 
 the blossom. Nevertheless, I commend all these intellectual 
 exercises, and would commend them still more, if they were 
 undertaken in a proper and orderly manner. For I am not so 
 foolish as alone to condemn what so many praise. Why should 
 I too not approve it, when I see that many thereby have attain- 
 ed to wealth, position, esteem, fame and distinction ? Indeed
 
 132 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 I know and willingly acknowledge that many of the sciences, 
 as Cicero says, are more easily converted into gain than others, 
 of which it is said they are unfruitful and resultless, since they 
 enrich the spirit rather than the pocket. If then you have gain 
 in mind, you must choose one of the much celebrated profes- 
 sions, by the practice of which you may become rich. At the 
 same time, you must always remember that the fame which 
 you secure in this manner, you always have in common with 
 every clever man of business. But if you cherish the juster 
 view, that that which is noble should be pursued for its own 
 sake, and if you are persuaded that your resources are suffi- 
 cient for your modest demands for when our demands are ex- 
 cessive even the slender means of others seem to us to great, 
 and our own, on the contrary, were they ever so great, too small 
 then I advise you to turn >our attention to philosophy ; by 
 which I mean to say, give yourself the trouble to acquire a 
 competent knowledge of things in general and the ability to 
 express adequately what you know. This knowledge, like the 
 essence of the things that form its subject, is twofold, one 
 branch relating to our acts and customs. Upon it reposes the 
 whole theory of a proper and well regulated manner of living. 
 This sphere of philosophical activity furnishes the science of 
 ethics. It is of the first importance, and deserves our special 
 attention. It is to be sought for, not only among the philoso- 
 phers, who treat it as a branch of literature, as for example, 
 Aristotle, Cicero, Seneca and others, who have written in Latin, 
 or who at least have been translated into Latin, so that it is 
 worth while to read them; but also among the historians, poets 
 and orators. They teach morality, not systematically, it is 
 true, but they indicate it and this is indeed the most effect- 
 ive in their praise of the good and their blame of the evil, and 
 by their use of examples of virtue and its antithesis by way of 
 illustration. By reading them, you arrive at the contempla- 
 tion of the Scriptures ; because you must arrange your life in 
 accordance with their injunctions ; to the Bible you must trust, 
 as to a certain guide in matters of the soul's salvation. All 
 that which is furnished from other sources is more or less mix- 
 ed with error ; for they did not succeed in constructing an ideal
 
 RUDOLPH AGRICOLA. 133 
 
 of life that was absolutely correct and irreproachable in every 
 respect. Either they did not recognize the object and purpose 
 of life, or they had only indistinct perceptions, and looked, so 
 to speak, through a veil of cloud. Therefore, although they 
 talked much about these matters, it was not because they were 
 thoroughly permeated with their doctrine. It is otherwise 
 with Holy Writ. That is as far removed from all error as God, 
 who has given it to us ; it alone leads us on the sure and cer- 
 tain way. It removes all obscurity, and permits us not to be 
 deceived, to lose ourselves, or go astray. 
 
 There are, however, other things, a knowledge of which 
 serves rather to adorn the spirit, and the exploration of which 
 must be regarded rather as a noble pleasure than as a necessary 
 condition of existence. Here belong the investigations into the 
 essence of things. Multiform and manifold is this domain, and 
 upon its various sides it has been treated by talented men, 
 gifted with the power of expression. If this sort of activity is 
 not absolutely necessary for the development of a moral man, 
 at least it contributes not a little thereto ; for when a true inter- 
 est in scientific investigation has once seized upon a man, there 
 is no more room in his soul for low and common-place effort. 
 That man learns to despise and belittle things which the com- 
 mon herd gazes upon with admiration. He pities those who 
 are held to be fortunate on account of the possession of such 
 things, because he recognizes how vain and transitory are these 
 possessions in their nature, and because he recognizes that no 
 greater misfortune could fall upon the universe than that all 
 its parts, even the most subordinate, should be transformed 
 into such things as gold and jewels, to which the blindness of 
 humanity has attributed so high a value. With the aid of this 
 knowledge we recognize also the frailty and transitory nature 
 of our bodies, exposed to the mutability of events. Thereby 
 we see that we must give our whole attention to the soul, that 
 to its care we must devote our time, since in its care no pains 
 are thrown away, no success is perishable. I pass over much 
 in my discussion, for everything that could be said in this con- 
 nection would fill a book and not merely a single letter. It is 
 sufficient, moreover, to have merely indicated what is already
 
 134 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 known to you, that this branch of knowledge is worthy the 
 highest efforts of an able man. 
 
 I am not willing, however, that you should assimilate merely 
 the rudiments of this science as at present we are conscious of 
 it daily it is presented in the schools; for that you have 
 already done with zeal and willingness, in a manner worthy of 
 recognition. It is rather my meaning that you must come 
 nearer to the things themselves, and investigate the situation 
 and the natural qualities of countries, mountains and rivers, 
 the customs of peoples, their boundaries and their conditions, 
 the territorial possessions which they have inherited or ex- 
 tended, the virtues of trees and plants, which Theophrastus 
 has recounted, and the history of living creatures, which Aris- 
 totle has treated from the literary point of view. Why should 
 I further mention the literary treatment of agriculture and of 
 medicine? These authors have written in many fields, one on 
 the art of war, another on architecture, a third on painting and 
 sculpture. These arts, it is true, do not belong exactly to that 
 part of knowledge which explores the essence of things, but 
 they are related to it, nevertheless, and spring, so to speak, 
 from the same source. Therefore, I have no reason to be ap- 
 prehensive, if I seem forced to present them in the same con- 
 nection. 
 
 All that, however, which, as I have said, has a bearing upon 
 our customs and upon the nature of things, you must obtain 
 from those authors who have presented these things in the 
 clearest light. Then you will acquire at once a knowledge of 
 the things themselves, and that which I regard as most im- 
 portant in a secondary way the gift of suitable presentation. 
 You are aware, moreover, that upon this point the greatest 
 men afford much guidance. But it is necessary that you should 
 lay aside the teaching which has been given us as boys at 
 school. Gather up all that you have learned in this field, 
 together with the prejudices that accompany it, condemn it, 
 and make up your mind to give it up, unless you are again put 
 in possession of it through the recommendation of better vouch- 
 ers, as though by official decree. Therefore it will be verj' use- 
 ful for you to translate everything that you read in the works
 
 RUDOLPH AGRICOLA. 135 
 
 of classical authors into j-our mother tongue, using words as 
 apt and significant as possible; for by this exercise you will 
 bring it about that when you are obliged to speak or write, the 
 Latin expressions will evolve themselves from your mind in 
 immediate connection with their originals in the vernacular. 
 If, moreover, you wish to commit something to writing, it is 
 recommended that you first arrange the material as completely 
 and correctly as possible in the vernacular, and then proceed to 
 express it appropriately and forcibly in pure Latin. In this 
 manner the presentation will be clear and exhaustive; for it is 
 easier to detect an error in the vernacular. In the same way 
 every one will notice most readily, in the language most famil- 
 iar to him, whether a point has been expressed too obscurely, 
 too briefly, in too labored a manner, or in a manner not in keep- 
 ing with the subject. In order to avoid these mishaps, seek to 
 express everything that you write in the purest, that is, the 
 most accurate Latin possible. The adornment of the discourse 
 is a matter of secondary importance. This can only be arrived 
 at when the presentation is sound and faultless. It is with dis- 
 course as with the human body; if all parts are not in suitable 
 condition; if, for example, they do not possess the right form 
 and size, it is in vain that you embellish them -Kith objects of 
 adornment. The ornament stands in sharp contrast to the 
 body itself, and the foreign embellishment makes the distortion 
 all the more noticeable by comparison. But enough of the 
 studies which you must pursue in this direction. 
 
 It remains for me to indicate the method by means of which, 
 in my opinion, you may reach the best results. Many, no 
 doubt, would differ with me, but my view of the matter is as 
 follows: Whoever, in the acquisition of a science will obtain a 
 result proportionate with his effort, must observe three things 
 in particular: He must grasp clearly and correctly that which 
 he learns; he must retain accurately that which he has grasped; 
 and he must put himself in a position to produce something in- 
 dependently, as a result of that which he has learned. The 
 first requisite, therefore, is careful reading; the second, a trust- 
 worthy memory; the third, continuous exercise. In reading, 
 the effort must be, to thoroughly penetrate and comprehend in
 
 13 6 SOURCE-BOOK OP THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 its full meaning that which is read. It is not sufficient to un- 
 derstand what is treated of; with classical writers it is further- 
 more necessary to give your attention to the meaning of expres- 
 sions, to the peculiarities of arrangement, to the correctness 
 and fitness of the diction, to the balance of the sentences, and 
 to the ability of the writer to clarify a subject, to clothe the 
 weightiest and most obscure things in words and bring them 
 forth into the light of publicity. It must not be said, however, 
 that when by chance we come across a passage in itself obscure, 
 or at least unintelligible to us, we shall stop and go no further. 
 Many throw their book at once aside, give up their studies en- 
 tirely, or bewail their limited intelligence. On the contrary, 
 we persevere in our efforts, and are not necessarily vexed. If 
 you find something, the meaning of which you cannot at once 
 determine, it is best to pass over it for the moment, and reserve 
 it for another opportunity, until you find a man or a book that 
 will afford an explanation. Oftentimes repeated reading is 
 sufficient to clear the matter up; for one clay teaches the next, 
 as I am fond of saying. If Quintilian reckoned it among the 
 virtues of a grammarian to be ignorant of many things, how 
 much more, I wiil not say necessary, but indeed pardonable it 
 is in our case, if we now and then are ignorant of something. 
 I wish above all things, however, not to give the impression 
 that in this discussion I am making a plea for superficiality. 
 On the contrary! I believe that there is no way in which I can 
 more effectually put a spur to zeal than by making it clear, 
 how by reading itself one opens the way to comprehension; and 
 that all difficulties which arise in reading are by reading itself 
 set aside. 
 
 The next requisite is an accurate memory. Memory de- 
 pends immediately upon natural qualities ; but even here art 
 may be helpful. This art has been presented in various ways 
 by different teachers. Nevertheless the essentials are the same. 
 This art seems to me especially adapted for two sorts of uses. 
 It often happens that you are compelled to speak or bring for- 
 ward a great number of things without special preparation. 
 The danger is that you will fail in respect of consecutiveness 
 or in respect of completeness. If, for example, you have to
 
 RUDOLPH AGRICOLA. 137 
 
 present certain claims before a prince or before a senate, or you 
 are obliged to reply to the arguments of an opponent; then you 
 will most appropriately seek help in this art. If it is desirable 
 to exercise the memory, however, it can best be done in the fol- 
 lowing manner : That this method for the strengthening of the 
 memory is in the highest degree beneficial, Quintilian assures 
 us, and experience teaches us as well, if we but make the trial; 
 for the memory, quite as much as any other gift, is capable of 
 being strengthened by frequent exercises, or of being weak- 
 ened by a lack of interest or by neglect. If it is wished that 
 certain things should be firmly lodged in our mind, it is neces- 
 sary first of all to grasp them as intensively as possible, then to 
 reproduce them as frequently as possible, and thereby establish 
 the highest degree of certainty conceivable. Finally, we must 
 take up this exercise when our spirit is otherwise unoccupied 
 and free from the burden of pressing thoughts. For, let us do 
 what we will, it still remains an established fact that we cannot 
 do two things properly at the same time. True it is, as Sallust 
 says, that the mind is strongest when a strain is put upon it ; 
 but it cannot possib'y be effective when it is directed into 
 several channels at the same time. The third and last point 
 that I have to raise treats of the art and manner in which we 
 may derive an individual benefit from what we have learned, 
 and bring our knowledge to light ; for the products of our ef- 
 forts ought not to remain idle and unfruitful in the depths of 
 our minds, but like seed corn, which has been entrusted to the 
 earth, they should bring forth abundant increase. This sub- 
 ject is very comprehensive and productive. It deserves an ex- 
 tersive treatment, which I have in mind for some further oppor- 
 tunity ; for upon this question depends the principal reward for 
 a long-continued effort and for much trouble expended in pur- 
 suit of knowledge. That is to say, if we can leave nothing to 
 posterity, can transmit nothing to our contemporaries beyond 
 that which we ourselves have appropriated, what difference is 
 there then between us and a book ? Hardly more than this, that 
 a book preserves with accuracy for all future time that which it 
 has once taken to itself, while we must frequently repeat and 
 impress that which we have appropriated, in order that we may
 
 138 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 retain it permanently. In this connection two requisites make 
 themselves apparent. Each is in and for itself something great 
 and fine, but the union of the two in an intellectual career un- 
 questionably deserves especial recognition. The first requisite 
 is this : All that we have learned we must have in constant 
 readiness for immediate use. For you frequently find people 
 who have acquired much and who remember many things, but 
 they are unable to recollect just the things of which they have 
 especial need. These people indeed know many things, but 
 they have no exact knowledge of anything. The second re- 
 quisite is the ability to discover and produce something outside 
 the area of our acquisition, something that we may ascribe to 
 ourselves and put forward as our own spiritual property. In 
 this direction two things afford us great aid. In the first place, 
 we must establish certain rubrics, for example, virtue and vice, 
 life and death, wisdom and ignorance, benevolence and hate, 
 etc. They are suitable for all occasions. We must recall them 
 frequently, and, so far as possible, arrange under them every- 
 thing that we have learned, or at least everything that we are 
 learning. Then by each repetition of the rubrics, everything 
 that we have arranged under them will be recalled ; and finally 
 it will come about that everything we have learned will be 
 always present before our eyes, so to speak. It will often hap- 
 pen, however, that an example or a sentence may be brought 
 under various rubrics. Thus, for example, you may place the 
 account of the violation of L,ucretia under the head of Chastity, 
 because it teaches us how highly this should be valued, when 
 Lucretia believed she must repurchase it at the price of her life. 
 It goes equally well under the head of Beauty, for it shows us 
 how great sorrow this may cause, and how greatly it endan- 
 gers chastity. It may be included also under the rubric Death; 
 for death is no evil, since Lucretia preferred it to a life of 
 shame. The account comes also in the chapter of I^ust, for it 
 shows how this moral weakness has caused misfortune and war. 
 It also justifies the aphorism that great evil often produces 
 great good, for the whole circumstance brought to the Roman 
 people their free constitution. In a similar manner the saying,
 
 RUDOLPH AGRICOLA. 139 
 
 est virtus placitis abstinisse bonis* may be classified in various 
 ways. It may be placed under the head of Virtue; for it is 
 reckoned a virtue to abstain from the benefits that fall to us. 
 The rubric Benefits may also come in requisition, since net all 
 benefits are worthy of effort. The idea of Continence may also 
 be considered. 
 
 In the second place, in everything that we learn we must 
 carefully consider, compare and thoroughly elucidate the indi- 
 vidual expressions. Let us take, for example, a sentence from 
 Virgil: Optima quaeque dies miseris mortalibus aeviprimafugit.\ 
 First of all, the poet says optima; how must we value benefits, 
 when those which we consider best of all not only vanish, but 
 hasten away and torture us with fear in the face of a hopeless 
 future, which seems the more depressing when we contrast it 
 with conditions that have gone before ? Then follow the words 
 dies aevt, the day of life; how slight must that be reckoned, if 
 it is so fleeting, and the best it contains is destroyed at its be- 
 ginning, in its bloom, so to speak! What joy can there be in 
 life, when those who rejoice in it are called, not only mortals, 
 but also miserable ? Why should they not be so called ? Are 
 not their goods and their very lives as fleeting as the day itself! 
 They are indeed made subject to the law of death. Finally 
 come the words prima fugit. We have not come to know the 
 day sufficiently well through use of it. Therefore, all that fol- 
 lows, no matter how good in itself, seems cruel in remembrance 
 of that which is lost. The day vanishes, is not released or sent 
 away. How deceptive and how uncertain is fortune! How 
 little is it in our power ! How little does it depend upon our 
 approbation ! 
 
 If, then, you will pursue such a subject through all the 
 points of dialectic that is to say, of course, so far as it re- 
 sponds to your spiritual disposition you will find yourself in 
 possession of abundant material for presentation, and also for 
 your inventive faculties to work upon. The method, however, 
 I cannot perfectly present in the narrow compass of a letter. I 
 
 * It is a virtue to renounce the things that please us. 
 
 fThe happiest day of life most quickly escapes unhappy mortals.
 
 140 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 have treated this question more at length in the three books 
 De invenlione dialectica. 
 
 Whoever carries out these instructions properly and carefully, 
 especially when the theoretical development of dialectic is added 
 thereto, will obtain in a high degree the ability, which will be 
 always at his command, of discoursing over almost any theme 
 that may be presented. It must be assumed, of course, that 
 the theme concerns that department of knowledge with which 
 he is acquainted. It is in this manner, it seems to me, that the 
 old masters, whom the Greeks called Sophists, that is, wise 
 men, have developed their powers, and attained to so great 
 readiness and ability in discourse, that they, as is seen in the 
 case of Plato and of Aristotle, caused any theme whatsoever to 
 be advanced, and then discoursed upon it as extensively as was 
 desired. 
 
 Thus Gorgias of Leontini, the originator of so bold an under- 
 taking, thus Prodicus of Ceos, thus Protagoras of Abdera and 
 Hippias of EHs have first educated themselves and then taught 
 others. Moreover, that which I have treated of in the second 
 instance will afford great capacity for judgment in the appro- 
 priation of knowledge, and lead to new demonstrations, to new 
 conclusions, or at least to a new arrangement of those already 
 on hand. When to this a suitable style is added, eloquence is 
 attained and the way is opened to the attainment of oratorical 
 distinction. But enough of this ! Demetrius of Phalerus, in 
 his "*/>* ipfaiv^oe* says that a too extensive letter is really no 
 letter, but a book with a formula of salutation at its beginning. 
 Whatever may be thought of this disturbs me not; for I have 
 set myself the task of furthering in every possible way your 
 studies, and in the event of my failure, to show at least that I 
 have made the effort. The will may indeed be of little account, 
 if measured by the result; but in the domain of friendship, 
 where the will stands for the deed, it has so great a value that 
 nothing greater can be asked or given. 
 
 And now to add a word concerning my personal affairs ; let 
 me tell you that on the second of May I came to Heidelberg. 
 
 * Exposition.
 
 RUDOLPH AGRICOLA. 141 
 
 My lord, the bishop, received me kindly, and has shown me 
 nothing but amiability and benevolence. Let me tell you of 
 my folly, or, to speak more accurately, of my stupidity. I have 
 resolved to learn Hebrew, as though I had not spent enough 
 time and pains on the little Greek that I have acquired. I 
 found a teacher, who a few years before accepted our faith. 
 The Jews themselves gave him credit for an extensive acquaint- 
 ance with their learning, and were accustomed to oppose him to 
 our theologians, when they were challenged to disputations on 
 the subject of religion. Out of kindness to me the bishop un- 
 dertook to care for him at the court. I shall do the best I can, 
 and hope to accomplish something. Perhaps I shall arrive at 
 this result, because I am confident of doing so. Joseph Rink 
 has informed me of your misfortune. It came to you from a 
 source, as I well know, whence it was most difficult to endure. 
 I am not certain whether I most lament your misfortune or such 
 perfidiousntss. At any rate I have sympathized deeply with 
 you in your sorrow, and should have given my sympathy ex- 
 pression in elegy this form of verse being specially adopted 
 for such complaint had I been so quiet and collected that I 
 might have brought myself to poetical composition. I beg of 
 you, send me something in the way of vocal music of your own 
 composition; but something finished, that will earn you praise. 
 We have singers here to whom I have often spoken of you. 
 Their leader composes for nine and twelve voices. Of his com- 
 positions for three or four voices I have heard nothing that es- 
 pecially pleased me. But my impression is in no sense a 
 proper judgment; very likely his compositions are too good for 
 my limited comprehension. Farewell, and be assured of my 
 friendship ; give my regards to the distinguished and learned 
 magister, Ambrosius Dinter, our Nicholas Haga, the elegantly 
 cultured magister, Jacob Crabbe, your neighbor, and especially 
 to Joseph Rink, an amiable young man, who is very devoted 
 to you. 
 
 The verses which I sent you I have carefully read through a 
 second time. I found three or four errors in the poem to 
 Mother Anna ; the printer had transposed the letters. There- 
 fore I send you this manuscript, in order that you may correct
 
 142 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 your copy by it. See to it, I beg of you, that this, together 
 with the letter, is delivered to the regular canon of St. Martin's, 
 Adam Jordan in L,6wen. Again farewell ! Heidelberg, June 
 7, 1484. Send me exact information concerning your affairs 
 through this messenger. 
 
 JACOB WIMPHELING. 
 
 Jacob Wimpheling (1450-1528) was born at Schlettstadt, in the Upper 
 Rhine country. His education was acquired in the schools of his native 
 town and at the universities of Freiburg, Erfurt and Heidelberg. Al- 
 though for a considerable time connected with the university of Heidel- 
 berg in the capacity of teacher, the productive period of Wimpheling's 
 life was spent at Strasburg, where his more important works were written. 
 These works were mostly pedagogical. The Isidoneus, a guide for the 
 German youth ; the Adolescentia, of a similar character; and the Agath- 
 archia, or book for the direction of princes, were all of them attempts 
 to raise the standard of education in Germany. The Germania, written 
 in 1501, during Wimpheling's residence at Strasburg, was an appeal to 
 that municipality to establish an advanced system of public schools. In- 
 cidentally, however, he appealed to the sentiment of German patriotism, 
 defending the thesis that Alsace had ever been a German land ; a conten- 
 tion which was opposed by another famous German humanist, Thomas 
 Murner (1475-1537). Out of this difference of opinion arose one of the 
 most celebrated literary controversies of the time. 
 
 Wimpheling's interest in educational matters won for him the distin- 
 guished title of the "Schoolmaster of Germany." His writings obtained 
 a wide circulation and did much to determine the character of German 
 education for two centuries. Apart from this special work, Wimpheling 
 was a typical humanist of the earlier type, selecting his material with 
 reference to its value for purposes of Christian culture, and possessing all 
 the homely and substantial virtues of his race. He valued the new learn- 
 ing chiefly for its adaptability to the purposes of practical life, and the 
 methods he advocated looked to the production of able and conscientious 
 men rather than accomplished scholars. 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM THB Isidoneus* 
 Chapter 25 ; The Study of Greek. 
 
 In the matter of Greek I am not competent to render judg- 
 ment or give an estimate, since in the best years of my youth 
 
 * Sammlung der bedentendsten p'ddagogischen Schriften. Baud 13. 
 Paderborn, 1892.
 
 JACOB WIMPHEUNG. 143 
 
 I had no teacher in this branch. If I wished to follow the ex- 
 ample of Marcus Cato, and learn it in my mature years, there 
 would be no lack of excellent teachers in Germany. Thus 
 Rudolph Agricola has learned and taught Greek. Johannes 
 Camerarius Dalberg, Bishop of Worms, devotes himself with 
 ardor to the study of Greek he who is the ornament of Ger- 
 many, the glory of his generation, the especial pride of Duke 
 Philip of Bavaria, the crown of bishops he whom, on account 
 of his astonishing erudition, I regard as born for something 
 even more distinguished. With no slight ardor does Johannes 
 Trithemius, Sponheim's pious abbot, devote himself to the study 
 of Greek. Among those who at the present time are compe 
 tent to teach Greek is also Johannes Capnion, or as he is com- 
 monly called, Reuchlin of Pforzheim, and the poet laureate, 
 Conrad Celtes. It is, moreover, well known that Augustine in 
 his second book of Christian Doctrine advances the opinion 
 that for those who speak L,atin a knowledge of Greek is neces- 
 sary for the understanding of Holy Writ. It is also known 
 that teachers out of their ignorance of this tongue have com- 
 municated much of error to their pupils. For example, they 
 were of the belief that the name of Christ, which was written 
 by our ancestors, who for the most part knew Greek, with three 
 Greek letters, XPC, had been incorrectly indicated with three 
 Latin letters, although it is beyond doubt that the first of these 
 three letters indicated to the Greeks not "x" but "ch;" that 
 the second stood not for "p" but for "r," while by the third 
 not "c," but "s" was meant. 
 
 Chapter 26 : The Aim -of Grammatical Instruction, 
 
 Contemplate, O teachers, the aim of grammatical instruc 
 tion ! Bear in mind that this instruction is to enable the pupil 
 to speak Latin correctly and agreeably on all occasions, to un- 
 derstand it perfectly and to be able to apply it to branches of 
 knowledge that promise greater rewards. This is the object, 
 this the aim, this the sum and substance of your instruction. 
 But when it is possible for any one to reach this goal with small 
 pains and slight exertion, is he not foolish to wander here and 
 there through by-ways and all sorts of turns and twistings at
 
 144 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 the expense of greater effort ? But many remain obstinate in 
 their errors and close their ears even to the plain truth. Al- 
 though a straight path is offered to them for the study of gram- 
 mar, yet they pursue a crooked way, which brings them from 
 the direct route; they abandon the level road, in order to forge 
 ahead over a way full of inequalities; they give up the short 
 road, in order to deceive their uninstructed youth with mean- 
 ingless and windy discourses, together with great loss of time 
 and interruption of mental development; to weaken and un- 
 nerve them. They remain themselves, together with their 
 pupils, blind and lame, for their ignorance in respect to the ele- 
 ments of grammatical instruction permits them to grope about 
 in darkness. He will never attain to the object of grammar, 
 who during his entire youth has busied himself with his Alex- 
 ander,* with the meaning of words, with figures and examples, 
 all of which is superfluous, and at the end can neither thor- 
 oughly grasp nor understand the smallest preface of Jerome, nor 
 any homily of the fathers, nor anything whatsoever that is 
 agreeably written, with all the grammar which he is supposed 
 to have learned. 
 
 Therefore it is for you, who are placed at the head of the pub- 
 lic schools, to conduct your pupils by the nearest possible way 
 to an understanding and a knowledge of the Latin tongue. 
 Leave untouched the old established explanations, which are 
 full of absurdities, and above all such as are calculated to cause 
 one to forget rather than to learn, in which there is nothing either 
 graceful or dignified, and which, moreover, are useless either 
 for the acquisition or the comprehension of Latin. 
 
 The Latin language I regard as the noblest of tongues; it 
 can be learned and understood by the people of every nation; 
 it makes the noble-born still nobler; one who knows it not is 
 thereby rendered unworthy of the Roman imperial crown; in it 
 have countless things been written, which can scarcely be trans- 
 lated into the German or any popular speech; he who despises it 
 
 *The Doctrinale puerorum of Alexander de Villa Dei, written in 1209 
 (1199), a famous Latin grammar, which came into extensive use in the 
 Middle Ages. With singular perversity the text was tortured into hexa- 
 meter verse.
 
 JACOB WIMPHELING. 145 
 
 shows himself unworthy of it; he who refuses to become a 
 Latinist, remains forever a wild beast and a two-legged don- 
 key. Our princes and their trusted courtiers and flatterers 
 not to call them "worshippers," with Augustine as despisers 
 of the Latin language and literature, might be called barbar- 
 ians by foreigners; and such in truth they are. But you, ad- 
 mirable youths, love this tongue; no other language is nobler, 
 more graceful, and more expressive; no other language surpasses 
 it in abundance and splendor of high and enlightened thought. 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM THE Adolescentia. 
 Chapter I. The Choice of Books. 
 
 If I did not fear to be accused by others of presumption, I 
 should advise teachers to observe, in the introduction of the 
 grammar, the orderly succession and the principles which I 
 have presented in my "Isidoneus." I permit myself to hope 
 that immediately after the instruction in the alphabet they will 
 put into your hands the Donat,* to which I have nothing to 
 add, and from which I have little to take away. Then will 
 they make you acquainted with the varieties and declensions 
 of nouns and verbs, with the easier forms of sentences and ter- 
 minations according to Sulpicius,f or some other good exercise 
 book for boys. Then they will place before you Basil the 
 Great \ and the letter of ^Eneas Silvius to King Ladislaus. 
 After these have been completed, this book of mine may, I think, 
 without detriment, be placed in your hands, by means of which 
 you may become acquainted with Cicero, Sallust, Seneca, 
 Tranquillus and Valerius Maximus. In this manner you will 
 be able more easily to attain to an understanding of the re- 
 
 *Or Donatus ; the ars grammatica of Aelius Donatus (IV century A. 
 D.). This book, in two forms, the ars minor and the ars major, came 
 into general use as an elementary Latin grammar after the middle of the 
 twelfth century. 
 
 f Johannes Sulpicius Verulanus (Giovanni Sulpicio of Veroli), a 
 humanist of the XV century ; taught at Rome, and composed yvorks 
 upon grammar. 
 
 St. Basil (329-379), Archbishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia. 
 \ Vide Source-Book of the Italian Renaissance, pp. 59 66.
 
 146 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 maining historical works; among others to an understanding 
 of Christian history, of the noble deeds of the Germans, espec- 
 ially in the account of Otto of Freisingen, in whom your noble 
 father, who possesses a carefully revised and perfect edition 
 of this work, takes great delight. 
 
 When you will read something of a more sprightly character, 
 to cheer you up or for amusement, turn to I^ucian. Whenever 
 any sad mischance has shaken you, take your flight to Fran- 
 cesco Petrarca, who for all the turns of fortune, be they good 
 or ill, has ever a perfect remedy and in a tasteful form, as well 
 against arrogance and presumption as against discouragement 
 and sadness. If, however, you love brevity, take up the equally 
 interesting and instructive book of Baptista Mantuanus, De 
 patientia. If you take pleasure in learning of the tasks and 
 duties of an upright prince or count, or if for the relief and un- 
 burdening of your conscience you will give to God an account 
 of the days of your life, then you may peruse my Agatharchia. 
 
 Chapter III. Boys of noble birth more than others should be instruct- 
 ed in the humanities. 
 
 If it is the duty of all parents to afford a good education to 
 their children, it is of especial importance that those boys who 
 later in life are to occupy prominent positions, and whose words 
 and deeds may not lie in obscurity, should be instructed in the 
 higher branches of learning, so that they may be worthy of 
 their fortune, their dignity and their prominence. It is a rea- 
 sonable condition, that those who demand for themselves the 
 highest should also produce the highest. There is no safer 
 nor more enduring basis for dominion than that those who rule 
 should be considered most worthy of their lordship. 
 
 Chapter IV. Learning and virtue are more to be, esteemed than all else. 
 
 Bvery one should strive for learning and virtue, which alone 
 confer nobility. These are to be striven for above all other 
 things to which the human mind directs itself. For money, 
 honor and pleasure are changing and transitory. The posses- 
 sion and fruits of virtue on the contrary are unassailable and 
 permanent, and make their possessor immortal and happy.
 
 JACOB WIMPHBLING. 147 
 
 The youth, therefore, especially when he comes of distinguished 
 parents, should be reminded with especial emphasis, that he 
 may value the soul's advantage and not the gifts of fortune and 
 physical accomplishments. Each day he should exert himself, 
 in order that he may not become an awkward, lazy, stupid, 
 foppish, wanton fellow, as in our day most of the noble-born 
 are; but that he shall be intelligent and educated; that he may 
 be well instructed from his youth and not ignorant of the hu- 
 manities; that he shall apply himself to the reading of Holy 
 Writ; that he may be well-bred, just, gentle and pious; that 
 he may be no friend of wastlings and buffoons, or of such as 
 find their joy in biting calumny, or of such as in any way out- 
 rage good breeding; in order that he may be rather a friend of 
 clever and cultured men. 
 
 Chapter V. A boy's disposition has to be determined at the start. 
 
 In the first place, each one has to give proof of his talents 
 and capacity. Since on account of their age this cannot be 
 adequately determined in the case of boys, it will be necessary 
 for their parents, or the teachers to whom the youths have been 
 entrusted, to observe carefully the general direction of their 
 mind, and talents, according to their natural dispositions. 
 Their studies should then be diverted into this same direction, 
 and with these studies they should occupy themselves exclus- 
 ively. 
 
 Chapter VII. The sons of the great shall not apply themselves exclus- 
 ively to the chase. 
 
 What special signification has the art of the chase if indeed 
 this employment deserves to be called an art for a king or for 
 a noble prince, that for it he despises and neglects all other 
 skilled labors and exercises of the body ? Is it not true that an 
 ordinary man of base extraction, devoid of all distinction, of all 
 cleverness and aptitude, may be quite the equal of a prince in 
 the exercise of the chase? The worst gallows-bird, empty of 
 all ability, of all cleverness, of all fear of the lyOrd, is qualified 
 to apply himself to this "delight." He too may carry the horn 
 which hangs about his neck; he too may jump about like mad,
 
 148 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 and race his horse here and there through field and forest, and 
 fill the air with cries; he too in peril of life and health may fol- 
 low the game and shoot it with bow or gun or run it down 
 with hunting-spear. 
 
 For a prince, however, that would be a more laudable art, in 
 which a man of common birth and low intelligence could not 
 equal him. Therefore he shall apply himself to use with ease 
 the noblest of tongues in reading and in speaking and particu- 
 larly in oral intercourse with foreigners; he shall consider it 
 furthermore his duty to learn the customs of the ancients and 
 the manners of foreign lands; he shall make himself acquainted 
 with historical statements and relations, such as serve for 
 agreeable and witty entertainment or for elevating instruction; 
 then too, the holy councils, which attend to the interests of the 
 individual and of the state, as well as to public and civic wel- 
 fare, should not be unfamiliar to him; in the range of his 
 knowledge he should include the arts of peace and war, as well 
 as the proper training of children, and law and equity, which 
 may serve for the defence of justice and the maintenance of right. 
 Then will he rise above his subjects; then will he be disting- 
 uished from them in his actions; then will he draw upon him- 
 self beyond a doubt the love and veneration of his people. 
 
 Chapter VIII. The indications of good natural gifts. 
 
 One indication of ability and of a spirit worthy of a free man 
 is shown in the striving after praise and the desire for honor. 
 Hence arises the contest for honor and distinction. It is an- 
 other token, when great things are dared for praise and honor. 
 A third token betrays itself in the readiness for good deeds, in 
 the disinclination for idleness and in the desire always to ac- 
 complish something of importance. A fourth is shown in a 
 dread of threats and blows, and a still greater dread of dishonor 
 and shame. Hence arises that feeling of modesty and awe, 
 which is of the highest value at this time of life. It is also a 
 good indication when boys blush on being reproved, and when 
 they mend their ways after having been chastised. A fifth sign 
 when they love their teachers and bear neither dislike nor 
 hatred against them or their discipline. A sixth sign is this:
 
 JA.COB WIMPHBWNG. 149 
 
 that children listen willingly to their parents and are not deaf 
 to their well-meant admonitions; for youth is inclined to sin, 
 and when it is not held in bounds by the example and counsel 
 of older people, it often seeks in haste the road of destruction. 
 
 Chapter XL VI. The fifteenth rule forbids carousing. 
 
 The youth shall avoid most carefully immoderate use of wine 
 and intoxication. Immoderate use of wine injures the health, 
 and seriously limits the use of reason; it arouses strife and war 
 and excites evil desires. For this reason the Lacedaemonians 
 permitted drunken slaves to come before them at their meals, 
 not that they might enjoy their disgusting conversation or 
 their filthy actions for it is only a worthless man who takes 
 pleasure in the faults or in the vices of others but that they 
 might place before their young sons a living example of the 
 shamefulness of intoxication. Was there ever an evil greater 
 than this infamy ? If then the disfigurement of the body is so 
 disgusting, how great is to be regarded the deformity and re- 
 pulsiveness of the soul disfigured with this vice ? Whoever 
 possesses the sense of shame that deters him from that so-called 
 pleasure of eating and drinking, which man has in common 
 with swine and donkeys, he may consider himself fortunate. 
 Socrates indeed said that many men lived in order to eat and 
 drink; he, however, ate and drank in order to live. 
 
 A youth, therefore, who desires to be accounted wise, must 
 never smell of wine; he flees drunkenness as he would poison; 
 he follows not the seductions of the palate, for a full stomach 
 does not sharpen his senses. A pleasure seeking and immod- 
 erate youth bequeaths to age an exhausted body. The youth 
 must know that human nature is content with little, so far as 
 needs are concerned; in respect to pleasure, however, nothing 
 is able to satisfy it. He should know, finally, that food, 
 taken in moderation, is conducive to health; but that the con- 
 trary is the case when taken in excess. Thus saith John Chry- 
 sostom; "Nothing is so pleasing as well-prepared and well- 
 cooked food; nothing more conducive to health; nothing so ef- 
 fectually sharpens the wits; nothing drives away an indisposi- 
 tion so quickly as a moderate refreshment. An excess, however,
 
 ISO SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 produces sickness and disorders, and calls forth discord. The 
 effects of hunger are equally produced, and even to a greater 
 degree and with more disastrous consequences by immoderate 
 indulgence; for hunger carries a man off in a few days, and 
 delivers him from pains of this life. Immoderation in food and 
 drink destroys the human body and causes it to wither and saps 
 its strength through illness, and then finally takes it hence in 
 painful death." Jerome held this view, and appealed to the 
 physician Hippocrates and his expositor, Galen. 
 
 Let the German youth accustom himself, therefore, to be 
 moderate and careful with his food and drink, so that the 
 opinion of foreigners may not be justly applied to him, when 
 they say, with injustice, and without ever giving thought to 
 their own shortcomings, that all Germans are given to intoxi- 
 cation and drunkenness. Young men may believe me when I 
 say that I have known many a young man who has wasted 
 his patrimony in debauchery and riotous living, and finally has 
 seen himself compelled in misery either to beg his bread in 
 shame and degradation or to end his life in the poorhouse. 
 
 Chapter XL VII The sixteenth rule forbids curling the hair. 
 
 The young man shall turn his thoughts to neatness, but not 
 to such a degree that it may be too evident or seem labored; 
 he shall avoid negligence, which betrays a rustic mind and lack 
 of culture. In the same way he shall look to his attire, and in 
 this matter, as in most others, the golden mean is to be pre- 
 ferred. If in Holy Writ long hair is forbidden to man and 
 youth, as being conducive to dishonor, how much heavier an 
 offence is it then, not only to roll up and curl the hair, which 
 naturally grows smooth and straight and is adorned with pleas- 
 ing colors, but also to moisten and dye it with artificial color. 
 A well-mannered and modest youth will hold himself aloof from 
 such deceit and feminine practices; for nothing was so certain 
 a sign of the worst of all vices to the ancients as this wicked and 
 shameful custom of curling the hair. Thus Plautus says of a 
 certain one: "Thou voluptuary with the curly hair!" Curling 
 the hair makes a woman of a man; it softens the youth; it pro- 
 duces an abundance of vermin; it strives in vain for that which
 
 JACOB WIMPHEUNG. 151 
 
 nature has forbidden; it is a sign of arrogance and bluster; it 
 betrays epicureanism and sensuality; it offends God the Ix>rd and 
 frightens away the guardian angel; it makes the head heavy 
 and affects the brain; it weakens the memory and deforms the 
 countenance; it gives old age a horrid, mangy look; it is evi- 
 dence of great simpleness. Is there anything more absurd than 
 to hold the hair in estimation above the head; than to care 
 more for the color of the hair than for sprightliness of mind, as 
 the brave and honest poet Diether has said with playful grace 
 to your distinguished father. Finally, crimping the hair shuts 
 one out from the kingdom of Heaven; for how will God, the 
 best and highest One of all, deem those worthy of the kingdom 
 of the blest who, dissatisfied with the form, with the counte- 
 nance, with the hair which he has given them, are not ashamed 
 to wear false hair, to slight and despise that divine gift, and to 
 seek strange gifts. On the last day the Judge will be able to 
 confront those who crimp and curl the hair with these words: 
 "I have not created this man; I have not given him this coun- 
 tenance: this is not the hair which I gave him at birth." Au- 
 gustine bears us witness with these words: "God is against the 
 arrogant and those that curl their hair." 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM THE Agatharchia. 
 
 Chapter XIV. The Support and Direction of High Schools. 
 It should be the care and effort of a prince, that scientific 
 studies should flourish in his principality and that many wise 
 and energetic men should distinguish themselves therein. In 
 this matter you will do well to imitate your father. It was his 
 earnest desire, that the high school at Heidelberg should ad- 
 vance in all excellent sciences, and particularly in the human- 
 istic studies, which before all are indispensable to young men, 
 and of value in the still more important exercise of the sacred 
 law; for it is not sufficient that this or the other branch of 
 learning should enjoy especial prosperity and consideration at 
 the high school. It is necessary that suitable arrangements 
 should be made for each branch of learning, through the whole 
 range of the higher arts and sciences. For in this wise such 
 institutions of learning show themselves worthy of the name of
 
 152 SOURCE-BOOK OP THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 "University."* Thus your father acted well and advisedly, 
 when he founded a college for jurisprudence. For it is better 
 that teachers and pupils should dwell together, than that the 
 latter should be separated and scattered hither and thither in 
 nooks and corners without supervision. 
 
 Chapter XV. The Desirability of having suitable Pastors and Teachers. 
 
 A prince shall nominate or appoint for his pastors and for the 
 direction of his scholars, able, learned and cultured men, 
 who are qualified to give instruction. And although in other 
 cases princes are accustomed to state their desires rather vio- 
 lently as some one has said: "When princes ask, it is a spec- 
 ially emphatic form of command," or "The mighty put their 
 requests with a drawn sword" yet in these two instances, that 
 is to say, in the matter of the cure of souls and the education 
 of children, the prince shall not advance any one he chooses to 
 an academic standard; he shall not personally advance the 
 claims of his favorite without due consideration; he shall not 
 confide to an inexperienced man a responsible position as pastor, 
 simply because his father understood his business or his service 
 as cook, huntsman, fowler or zither-player, to the injury of the 
 man's own soul and to the detriment of the prince himself. A 
 prince will have to give an account of all these things. It 
 would be more to the purpose to bestow offices of this sort upon 
 men of distinction, mature and blameless men, who have ac- 
 quired a fund of human experience, who are able to awaken 
 confidence, who are thoughtful of the welfare of their native 
 land, who loved God and the salvation of souls more than all 
 other things, who allow themselves to be diverted by nothing, 
 neither by the arrangements of this or that one, nor by the de- 
 mands of the faculty or the bursary, but simply and exclusively 
 look to the morality, the intellectual advancement, the elo- 
 quence and the progress of those who are entrusted to their 
 care. It is also not to be permitted that at a high school one 
 faculty should subordinate, encroach upon or oppress another. 
 The prosperity of the high school and due respect for the 
 
 *Academia Universitatum.
 
 JACOB WIMPHELING. 153 
 
 founder demand rather, that the faculty which was first estab- 
 lished should not give way; reason suggests that equilibrium 
 should be preserved; equal labor and equal remuneration, and 
 in a similar way, equal consideration on the part of those 
 whose privilege it is to bestow rewards and favors. Especially 
 are those self-seeking souls to be kept at a distance who do not 
 hesitate, for their own advantage and with unseemly perti- 
 nacity in their own behalf, to undermine the whole academic 
 structure, to violate every approved regulation, to destroy the 
 sacred harmony and break down a just distribution of stipends. 
 
 Chapter XVII, The Training of Princely Children. 
 A prince should see to it, that his children are well educated 
 and well trained, and that from their earliest years they are di- 
 rected toward humanistic studies. They should be able also to 
 use the Latin language in a satisfactory manner. This will re- 
 dound to their honor in the assemblies of princes, in their in- 
 tercourse with ecclesiastical dignitaries, in the reception of 
 cardinals or in their intercourse with foreigners. Julius and 
 Augustus, Marcus Cato, King Robert of Sicily, Constantine, 
 Charles the Great and other princes and their sons have neither 
 impaired the honor of their names in any way through such 
 study, nor have they discovered therein any diminution of their 
 martial glory. What the characteristics of a good teacher are, I 
 have already indicated in my hidoneus. As to how they should 
 bring up their boys, they may peruse the letter of Aeneas Silvius 
 to L<adislas.* In the training of older pupils they should 
 govern themselves by Holy Writ and the writings of the heathen. 
 They may find inspiration also in the treatise which John Ger- 
 son addressed to the confessor of Charles VII. King of France; 
 above all they should not neglect the Summa of John Gallensis.f 
 
 Chapter XXII. Precautions against the Artificial Raising of Prices. 
 
 A prince should take care that well-filled granaries are at 
 hand for the benefit of his people, so that an occasional famine 
 
 *Cf. Source-Book of the Italian Renaissance, p. 59, et seq. 
 fEnglish Franciscan monk. Taught at University of Paris in 1279. 
 His Summa Collationum was a book of aphorisms.
 
 154 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 may be mitigated by means of the surplus of foregoing years. 
 He shall also take precautions; so that when, to punish us for 
 our sins, God in his wisdom limits the increase of fruits or sends 
 destructive storms upon us, prices shall not rise out of reach 
 through the insatiable avarice of priests or citizens. He shall 
 see that just prices are made, so that the scarcity may be more 
 endurable for the poor ; for there are such as collect and heap 
 together the harvests of several years, and hold them back pur- 
 posely, in order that they may sell these products at advanced 
 prices. People of this kind sometimes bring about an advance 
 in prices merely by their avarice. If your father Philip had 
 not broken this up and forbidden, in years past, that the price 
 of a bushel of wheat should exceed 16 solidi,* the price of the 
 same would have risen to a pound denarii or nearly to two 
 pounds and this merely through the wantoness of avaricious 
 people, who cared not whether poor people suffered hunger or 
 even died of hunger, if they themselves could get rich. I speak 
 from experience. 
 
 Chapter XXIII. To Prevent the exportation of Gold and Silver. 
 A prince shall take precautions, in so far as it is possible 
 without offence toward God, that neither gold nor silver shall 
 be taken out of his territory into foreign lands, unless a complete 
 equivalent therefore is returned. I do not know why it is that 
 other people have contracted the habit of draining the German 
 nation dry, while no gain comes to us from foreign lands. The 
 Roman annates, the spices and fabrics of Venice, the Italian 
 rectorates, the French jugglers and players, the regular orders, 
 their hospitals and settlements carry enormous sums out of our 
 lands. Our people, however, have only one order founded for 
 the Germans, and this has obtained in all France not one 
 cloister, nor a single settlement, nor any kind of income what 
 soever. The French, on the contrary, have in our midst the 
 Antonines.t the Valentinians, the Benedictines and many 
 
 *According to the Carolingian coinage regulations the pound silver 
 was divided into 20 solidi or into 240 denarii. 
 
 t Established 1095. Under Boniface VIII, changed to a congregation 
 of Augustinians ; 1774 united with the order of Malta ; dissolved in the 
 revolutionary period.
 
 SEBASTIAN BRANT. 155 
 
 others ; not to speak of the Cistercians and Praemonstraten- 
 sians. So great is either the simplicity or the generosity of the 
 Germans. 
 
 SEBASTIAN BRANT. 
 
 Sebastian Brant (1458-1521) was born at Strasburg, studied at the uni- 
 versity of Basel, became doctor of civil and canon law, and taught at 
 Basel until 1501, when he returned to his native town. There he held 
 several municipal offices and in 1521 was given charge of an embassy to 
 Ghent by the emperor, Charles V. 
 
 Brant's Narrenschijf, or Ship of Fools (Basel, 1494) was one of the most 
 popular books of the sixteenth century. The work passed through num- 
 erous editions and was translated into many modern languages. Alexander 
 Barclay's Ship of Fooles (1509) is based upon Brant's work, but is so ex- 
 panded and diluted that the vigor of the original is lost. The Narren- 
 schijfhas no purpose, other than that of a satirical presentation of the 
 weaknesses and foibles of society. Along with other classes of society it 
 handles somewhat roughly the shortcomings of the clergy, and in this 
 wise furnished material for the opponents of the church. Brant, how- 
 ever, was thoroughly orthodox, and wrote without polemical motive and 
 without hostility to the religious institutions of his time. 
 
 FROM THE Narrenschiff* 
 
 The foremost rank they've given me, 
 Since I have many useless books, 
 Which I neither read nor understand. 
 
 (i) Of Useless Books. 
 
 That I sit in this ship foremost 
 A special meaning has in truth, 
 And is not done without a cause. 
 For I rely upon my books, 
 Of which I have a great supply, 
 But of their contents know no word, 
 And hold them yet in such respect, 
 That I will keep them from the flies. 
 When people speak of knowledge, I say 
 I have a lot of it at home ; 
 
 *Sebastian Brant's Narrenschiff, herausgegeben von F. Zarnke, 
 Leipzig, 1854.
 
 156 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 And am content with this alone, 
 
 To see a lot of books about. 
 
 King Ptolemy, he so contrived, 
 
 That he had all the books in the world, 
 
 And held them for a treasure great. 
 
 Still he^had not the' law of truth, 
 
 Nor knew well how to use his books. 
 
 So I have many books as well, 
 
 And very few of them peruse. 
 
 Why should I break my head on them, 
 
 And bother myself with lore at all ? 
 
 Who studies much becomes a guy. 
 
 Myself, I'd rather be a man, 
 
 And pay people to learn for me. 
 
 Although I have a clownish mind, 
 
 Yet when I am with learned folk, 
 
 I know how to say "//a " for yes. 
 
 Of German orders I am proud, 
 
 For little Latin do I know. 
 
 I know that vinum stands for wine, 
 
 Cuculus for gawk, stullus for fool, 
 
 That " Domine Doctor " I am called. 
 
 If my ears were not hid for me 
 
 A miller's beast you you'd quickly see. 
 
 Who studies not the proper art, 
 He surely wears the cap and bells, 
 Is led forth on the string of fools. 
 
 (27) Of Useless Studies. 
 
 The students I cannot neglect ; 
 
 They too are taxed with cap and bells, 
 
 And when they put their headgear on 
 
 The point may somewhat backward hang. 
 
 For when they ought to study hard, 
 
 They'd rather go and fool about. 
 
 To youth all learning's trivial. 
 
 Just now they'd rather spend their time
 
 MAXIMILIAN I. 157 
 
 With what is vain and of no use. 
 
 The masters have the selfsame fault, 
 
 In that true learning they despise 
 
 And useless trash alone regard : 
 
 As to whether it's day or night 
 
 Or whether a man a donkey made, 
 
 Or Socrates or Plato walked. 
 
 Such learning now the schools employs. 
 
 Are they not fools and stupid quite 
 
 That go about by day and night, 
 
 Among themselves and other folk ? 
 
 For better learning they've no care. 
 
 Of them it is that Origen 
 
 Speaks, when he says that they are like 
 
 The frogs and grasshoppers that once 
 
 Th' Egyptian land reduced to waste. 
 
 And so the young men get them hence 
 
 While we at Leipzig, Erfurt, Wien, 
 
 Heidelberg, Mainz and Bale hold out. 
 
 But come back home although with shame, 
 
 The money by that time is spent. 
 
 And then they're glad to turn to trade, 
 
 And then one learns to bring in wine, 
 
 And soon turns out a serving man. 
 
 The student cap will get its bells. 
 
 MAXIMILIAN I. 
 
 Maximilian I., emperor of Germany from 1493 to 1519, son of Frederick 
 III., emperor and founder of the Hapsburg power in modern Europe, was 
 born in 1459. * n J 477 Maximilian married Mary of Burgundy, heiress of 
 Charles the Bold, thereby securing to his line the succession to the rich 
 possessions of the house of Burgundy. 
 
 In addition to his patronage of literature and the arts, Maximilian 
 found leisure for literary composition. Among the works attributed to 
 him are the Theuerdank.. a poetical allegory, setting forth the adventures 
 of his courtship, and the Weisskunig, a general record of his life, in prose. 
 Just what part may be ascribed to Maximilian in the preparation of this 
 work is uncertain. It is believed, however, that the emperor furnished 
 the material, and that the literary form, of the Weisskunig at least, was 
 the contribution of his secretary, Treitzsauerwein.
 
 158 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 FROM THE Weisskunig.* 
 How the Queen gave birth to a son. 
 
 When now the time of the child's birth drew near, there was 
 seen, but as yet not clearly, a comet in the sky, and it gave 
 rise to many opinions. The old white king, likewise the exiled 
 prince and all the folk of the entire kingdom cried aloud to 
 God, with great devotion, asking that through his divine grace 
 all the people might have occasion to rejoice in the queen's safe 
 delivery. When any Christian man contemplates the mighty 
 grace which Almighty God conferred upon them both in this 
 world, as for example, the highest spiritual and temporal honor 
 of their coronation at Rome ; and when he thinks as well of 
 their piety and humility, that in their love of God they visited 
 and sought to honor all holy places in the City of Rome and 
 elsewhere ; then he need not doubt that God heard this prayer 
 out of his benign tenderness, for all good things come from 
 God. And on this day and at the hour of the child's birth the 
 selfsame comet appeared much larger than before and gave 
 forth a clear and brilliant light. Although comets, for many 
 reasons, usually make melancholy the heart of him who looks 
 upon them, yet this comet with its glow was pleasing to look 
 upon, so that each heart was moved at the sight of the comet, 
 and thereby its special influence was a sign and revelation of 
 the child's birth. In the midst of this appearance of the comet, 
 the queen, through the divine grace granted and bestowed 
 upon her, in the city called the Neustadt, bore her child with 
 gentle pains, and was in her delivery greatly rejoiced, because 
 the child was a beautiful son. Then out of joy they began to 
 ring the bells and throughout the whole kingdom were lighted 
 countless fires of rejoicing. How great was the joy of the old 
 white king and all the people of his kingdom, over this happy 
 birth. Now when the child was born, the comet ceased at once 
 with its glow, whereby it is to be recognized that the same 
 
 * Der Weiss Kunig ; eine Erzehlung von den Thaten Kaiser Maxi- 
 milian I., von M. Treitzsaurwein auf dessen Angeben zusammengetragen, 
 nebet den von H. Burgmair dazu verfertigten Holtzschnitten. Wien, 
 1775-
 
 MAXIMILIAN I. 159 
 
 comet was a token of the child's future rule and of his won- 
 drous deeds. And the exiled prince recognized that by this 
 comet his counsel was confirmed through the influence of 
 heaven, and he also requested that he might raise the child 
 from the baptismal font, to which office he was called by the 
 old white king, since the prince himself was born of kingly 
 race. One thing will I make known : that when this child 
 came to his years and to his rule, he was most victorious and 
 most warlike, and to look upon his countenance he was most 
 gracious, which indeed is wonderful to see in one who is war- 
 like and of all most warlike ; in this may be recognized the 
 comet's bold and frank appearance, and its gracious aspect, as 
 a token of the future. 
 
 Note, that the king's countenance is likened to this gracious 
 aspect. 
 
 How the young white king learned the black art, 
 
 In this advancement of the young white king, his father, the 
 old white king, took great satisfaction, and his heart beat so 
 high with joy that a terror seized him when he thought that 
 all joys should have their source in the praise and honor of 
 God; and in this manner his spirit was deeply moved to con- 
 sider the future upholding of the Christian faith. How great 
 was his emotion ! He recalled how often in former times, pow- 
 erful kings in their later years were fallen away from the true 
 belief into a new faith, all of which had come about solely 
 through the seduction of the black art. Much is to be written 
 thereof, but as a proof of what I write, this same art is for- 
 bidden in the Christian faith and by the ordinances of imperial 
 law, and exterminated, whereby it must be let alone, for the 
 soul's salvation and for the increase of our faith. Although 
 this art is damning to the soul and an injury to our faith, yet 
 the human spirit is so weak and diseased in its constancy, in 
 its determination to discover hidden things, that this art, whose 
 false basis and unreality is hidden, is so very dear to man that 
 many come thereby into error and despair. Now the young 
 white king often heard speak of this art, and from time to time 
 he chanced to see the very ablest writings, wherein this art is 
 set forth. In the midst of the joy and the contemplation of the
 
 160 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 old white king, as related above, the young white king came 
 to him. Then spake the father to the son: " What think you 
 and how do you regard the black art, which is a damnation to 
 the soul, and a crime and seduction to men ? Are you not dis- 
 posed to learn it?" Thus did the father for the purpose of 
 making evident to him the hidden seduction, and to plant 
 future doubts. The son gave him answer: "St. Paul, that 
 most excellent teacher of the Christian faith, writes and com- 
 mands us that we shall learn all things and experience all 
 things, but avoid the ill and cleave to that which is good. ' ' 
 Thereupon spake the father to the son: " Go hence and take 
 to yourself the most learned man in the black art, and investi- 
 gate it thoroughly; but bear in mind the first commandment of 
 God : Thou shalt believe in one God ; and also St. Paul's 
 teaching, which you have just indicated tome." The young 
 white king sought out an especially learned man in the black 
 art, who began to teach him with uncommon industry, with 
 the idea that this same art should be looked upon by the prince 
 as good and useful and held dear. And when the young white 
 king had studied it for a time, and satisfied himself of its use- 
 lessness, he discovered that the art was contrary to the first 
 commandment of God, which reads: Thou shalt believe in one 
 God; and for the first time he understood St. Paul's teaching, 
 for he who has not experience of it easily believes, and thereby 
 it often comes about that he is led astray. For a while the 
 learned man disputed with the young white king, in order to 
 discover his spirit and his desire, and then he said to him : 
 "This art is an art whereby great lords may increase their 
 power." Then asked the young white king of him, whether 
 there were more gods than one. Thereupon he answtred: 
 " There is but one God." Upon this answer the young white 
 king said: "You have spoken truly, and thereby is the black 
 art vain, and the learning which I have discovered in the same, 
 the seduction of our faith. ' ' From this speech the learned man 
 easily perceived that he was sufficiently instructed in this lore. 
 With how great wisdom had the old white king made the re- 
 flection above related, and how prolific of usefulness was it to 
 the Christian faith; for when the young white king came into
 
 MAXIMILIAN I. l6l 
 
 his years and into his powerful reign, he permitted no unbelief 
 nor heresy to be kindled or spread abroad, which, however, 
 have often obtained the upper hand; and indeed it has hap- 
 pened from time to time that, through the confidence and by 
 permission of inexperienced men, men of evil have been 
 strengthened in their desperate enterprises and have adhered 
 to them, a thing which these kings through their careful ex- 
 perience and their especial wisdom have avoided, to the salva- 
 tion and happiness of their souls and to the maintenance of the 
 Christian religion. 
 
 How the young white king came to the young queen, and how he was 
 
 received. 
 
 When the young white king was on his way to visit the 
 aforesaid young queen, then was this announced to the two 
 queens aforesaid. Thereupon they were filled with great joy 
 and wrote at once to all their retainers, and let them know as 
 well of the approach of the young white king. The retainers 
 tarried not, but came without hindrance to the two queens. 
 Then counsel was taken of them as to how the young white 
 king should be received. Thereupon was written to the young 
 white king, he should come into the city named Ghent, and 
 the two queens, with their retainers, would also come hither; 
 and as soon as this letter had been dispatched to the young 
 white king, the two queens, with their retainers, drew into the 
 said city and there awaited the arrival of the young white king, 
 who, af er a few days, himself came thither; and on the same 
 day that he entered the city there rode toward him, first, the 
 citizens of the city, most elegantly arrayed, then all the retain- 
 ers, princes, bishops, prelates, counts, lords, knights and 
 squires, a great multitude; then the whole clergy, with all the 
 sacred relics, in a procession, and all the people of the city, 
 and received the young king with great honor and high dis- 
 tinction, and with especial joy; and he, too, rode into the city, 
 with great concourse, in costly array and royal honors, and all 
 who saw him felt an especial pleasure in his beautiful youth 
 and upright bearing, and the common folk said, they had never 
 seen a finer youth, and they were filled with amazement, that 
 the old white king, his father, should have sent his son, in the
 
 1 62 SOURCE-BOOK OP THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 beauty of his youth, so far into a foreign land; and the young 
 king was festively entertained at his lodging, which was decor- 
 ated for him in the richest manner. The two queens had pre- 
 pared towards evening a grand banquet, and sent to the young 
 king persons of high degree, to invite him to the banquet, 
 where the two queens would receive him in person; and when 
 he would go to the banquet he dressed and adorned himself 
 with elegant clothes and jewels, and went with his princes, 
 nobles and knights, in royal array, to the banquet. Then 
 night came on and the throng was great, and there were many 
 torches, for each wished to see the young white king. Mean- 
 while the two young queens were alone together in an apart- 
 ment, and conversing together said that they would like to see 
 the young king secretly. Thereupon the old queen, the young 
 queen's mother, disguised herself in strange garments and went 
 secretly and unknown out of the apartment into the hall, where 
 the young white king should come. Now the crowd of people 
 was so great that for a long time the old queen was unable to 
 get past, and was obliged secretly to seek aid, and when finally 
 she came past the people, at that same moment the young white 
 king entered the hall, and when he was pointed out to her at 
 first she would not believe that it was the young white king, 
 for she thought he was too handsome, and that she had never 
 seen a youth so fine, and she tarried to see which of all really 
 was the young white king. And now she saw that all honor 
 was done to this same handsome youth, and moreover that he 
 was escorted by the mighty archbishops and princes, and that 
 this youth could be no other than the young white king. 
 Thereupon the old queen went in haste to her daughter, the 
 young queen, in her chamber, and said from the depths of her 
 heart: "O daughter, no such beautiful youth have I seen as 
 the young white king, and this young king shall be thy lord 
 and consort, and no other. ' ' From these words it is seen that 
 the king of France and his son came to grief with their secret 
 wooing, which I have mentioned before. 
 
 For the young white king was indeed a comely youth, well 
 built in body and bone, and had a sweet and lovely counte- 
 nance and wonderfully beautiful yellow hair ; he was called, on
 
 'DESIDERIUS ERASMUS. 163 
 
 account of his beauty and his fitness, the white king with the 
 gracious countenance. Now when the young white king stood 
 in the middle of the hall, the two queens advanced to him with 
 great elegance and received him with royal honors, with great 
 joy and friendliness. And as soon as the young queen saw the 
 young white king she was pleased with his person, and with 
 this same contentment her heart became inflamed with hon- 
 orable love toward him. In this same hour, with her royal 
 consent, the marriage was confidentially discussed and joyfully 
 determined upon, and thereafter the banquet with great enjoy- 
 ment carried out. How rich in joy was indeed this banquet, 
 where such a royal marriage, between two persons of the 
 greatest worth and beauty, was concluded ! 
 
 DESIDERIUS ERASMUS. 
 
 Desiderius Erasmus (1467-1536), as he called himself according to the 
 literary fashion of the time, changing the name of Gerhard to its Latin 
 and Greek equivalent, was born at Rotterdam, a natural son of Gerhard 
 of Praet. Left an orphan at an early age, he was induced against his in- 
 clination to take monastic vows in 1486, but effected his release from a 
 life which he found distasteful, and went to Paris as secretary to the 
 Bishop of Cambray. A student at the university of Paris, Erasmus' 
 health was broken with the privations undergone, both in Paris and dur- 
 ing the following years of scant existence. To Lord Mountjoy, whom he 
 tutored at Paris, he owed an introduction to English society, and an ac- 
 quaintance with the English scholars, More and Colet. In 1506 he made 
 the journey to Italy, and published from the Aldine press his book of 
 Adages (printed for the first time in 1500). In 1509 Erasmus returned to 
 England, hoping much from the new king, Henry VIII., who as a prince 
 was favorably inclined toward learning. At this time he composed in 
 England the Praise of Folly, best known of Erasmus' works, perhaps be- 
 cause the Reformers found in it such valuable material for their attack 
 upon the Roman church. 
 
 Dissatisfied with England as a place of residence, partly on account of 
 the indifference of the king, and partly because of its remoteness from 
 the great centres of publication, Erasmus returned to the continent in 
 1513, and took up his residence at Basel. Here he lived the greater part 
 of his remaining years, engaged in literary work. The Reformation 
 broke in rudely upon his labors. While sympathizing with Luther's 
 early attempt to check the abuses of the church, Erasmus' interests were 
 not theological. His work and few men worked more strenuously
 
 164 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 was literary. To him all was unwelcome that threatened the repose 
 necessary for the intellectual development of Europe. The Reformers, 
 unable to recognize his position or to sympathize with a condition of in- 
 difference toward theological matters, branded him a moral coward, and 
 traces of this unjust stigma have outlived the period of dogmatic contro- 
 versy and lingered on into modern times. 
 
 Of Erasmus' numerous works the Colloquies is said to have had the 
 greatest immediate circulation. "No book," says Hoefer, "passed 
 through so many editions in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries as 
 the Colloquies of Erasmus. In them the author is found at his best, with 
 all that nicety of observation, that caustic and incisive vein, that purity, 
 that versatility and elegance of style which justify for Erasmus the name 
 of the Voltaire of the sixteenth century." 
 
 For the latest contribution from a scholarly source to the history of 
 Erasmus, cf. Dr. Ephraim Emerton's Desiderius Etasmus, in the 
 " Heroes of the Reformation " series, Putnatns, N. Y., 1899. 
 
 TWO COU.OO.UIES.* 
 
 /. Naufragiutn. 
 
 A. These are dreadful things that you tell. Is that sailing ? 
 God forbid that any such idea should come into my head. 
 
 B. Indeed, what I have related is mere child's play compared 
 with what you are about to hear. 
 
 A. I have heard more than enough of mishaps. I shudder 
 while you narrate them, as though I myself were present at 
 the danger. 
 
 B. Indeed, to me past struggles are pleasing. That night 
 something happened which almost took away the captain's last 
 hope of safety. 
 
 A. What, I pray ? 
 
 B. The moon was bright that night, and one of the sailors 
 was standing on the round-top (for so it was called, I believe) 
 keeping a lookout for land. A globe of fire appeared beside 
 him. It is considered by sailors to be an evil omen if the fire 
 be single, a good omen if it be double. In ancient times these 
 were thought to be Castor and Pollux. 
 
 A. What have they to do with sailors ? One of them was a 
 horseman, the other a boxer. 
 
 *Opera omnia (edidit J. Clericus) I/vgd. Bat., P. van der Aa., 1703-1706.
 
 DESIDERIUS ERASMUS. 165 
 
 B. Well this is the view of the poets. The captain who was 
 sitting at the helm, spoke up. "Mate," said he, (for sailors 
 address each other in this manner, ) " do you see what is beside 
 you ?" "I see ," he replied, " and I hope it may be lucky." 
 By and by the globe of fire descended along the rigging and 
 rolled up to the feet of the captain himself. 
 
 A. Did he perish with fear. 
 
 B. Sailors are accustomed to strange sights. The globe 
 stayed there a while, then rolled along the side of the vessel 
 and disappeared down through the middle of the deck. About 
 noon the storm began to rage with great fury. Have you ever 
 seen the Alps ? 
 
 A. Yes, I have seen them. 
 
 B. Those mountains are mole-hills compared with the waves 
 of the sea. When we were lifted up on the crest of a wave, 
 we might have touched the moon with our fingers. As often 
 as we went down between the billows, we seemed to be going 
 direct to the infernal regions, the earth opening to receive us. 
 
 A. Foolish people, that trust themselves to the sea ! 
 
 B. The sailors struggled in vain against the tempest, and at 
 length the captain, quite pale, came toward us. 
 
 A. That pallor presages some great evil. 
 
 B. ' ' Friends, ' ' says he, ' ' I have lost control of my ship. The 
 winds have conquered me, and nothing remains but to put our 
 trust in God, and for every one to prepare himself for the last 
 extremity. ' ' 
 
 A. O speech truly Scythian! 
 
 B. "But first," says he, "we shall relieve the ship of her 
 cargo. Necessity, a stern mistress, commands this. It is 
 better to save our lives, with the loss of our goods, than to 
 perish along with our goods. ' ' The truth of this was evident 
 to us; and many vessels full of precious wares were thrown into 
 the sea. 
 
 A. This was indeed a loss ! 
 
 B. There was a certain Italian who had been upon an em- 
 bassy to the king of Scotland; he had a box full of silver 
 vessels, rings, cloth and silk garments. 
 
 A. Would he not compound with the sea ?
 
 166 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 B. No; he wished either to perish with his beloved wealth, 
 or to be saved along with it; aud so he refused. 
 
 A. What did the captain say ? 
 
 B. "So far as we are concerned," says he, "you are wel- 
 come to perish with your traps; but it is not right that we 
 should all be endangered for the sake of your box, and rather 
 than that we will throw you headlong into the sea, along with 
 your box." 
 
 A. A speech worthy of a sailor. 
 
 B. So the Italian also made his contribution, with many im- 
 precations upon the powers above and those below, that he had 
 trusted his life to so barbarous an element, A little later the 
 winds, in no wise softened by our offerings, broke the rigging 
 and tore the sails into shreds. 
 
 A Alas ! alas ! 
 
 B. Again the sailor approaches us, 
 
 A With further information ? 
 
 B. He greets us. " Friends, " says he, " It is time that 
 everybody should commend himself to God and prepare for 
 death. ' ' When certain ones who had some knowledge of the sea 
 asked him how many hours he thought he could keep afloat, 
 he said he could not say for certain, but that it would not be 
 above three hours. 
 
 A. This information was more serious than the former. 
 
 B With these words he ordered all ropes to be severed and 
 the mast cut with a saw close to the deck, and let it go by the 
 board together with the yards. 
 
 A. Why was this done ? 
 
 B. Because, since the sails were gone or torn to pieces, it 
 was a burden rather than a help. All our hope was then in 
 the helm. 
 
 A. What were the passengers doing meanwhile ? 
 
 B. There you might have seen a miserable condition of 
 affairs. The sailors, singing " Salve , regina, " implored the 
 Virgin mother, calling her star of the sea, queen of heaven, 
 ruler of the world, harbor of safety, and flattering her with 
 many other titles, which the holy scriptures nowhere attribute 
 to her.
 
 DKSIDERIUS ERASMUS. 1 67 
 
 A. What has she to do with the sea, who never sailed, so far 
 as I know. 
 
 B. Venus formerly had the care of sailors, because she was 
 supposed to have been born of the sea; since she has ceased her 
 care of them, the Virgin mother has been substituted for her, in 
 her maternal, not in her virginal, capacity. 
 
 A. You are joking. 
 
 B. Some fell down upon the decks and worshiped the sea, 
 pouring into the waves whatever oil was at hand, flattering it 
 not otherwise than we used to flatter an angry prince. 
 
 A. What did they say ? 
 
 B. " O, most merciful sea! O, most noble sea! O, most 
 wealthy sea ! Have pity, save us !" Many things of this sort 
 they sang to the deaf sea. 
 
 A. Absurd superstition ? What were the others doing ? 
 
 B. Some were sufficiently occupied with sea-sickness; but 
 most of them offered vows. Among them was a certain Eng- 
 lishman, who promised mountains of gold to our Lady of 
 Walsingham, if only he might touch land alive. Some prom- 
 ised many things to the wood of the cross, which was in such a 
 place; others again to the same in another place. The same 
 was done in the case of the Virgin Mary, who reigns in many 
 places; and they think the vow is of no avail, unless you name 
 the place. 
 
 A. Absurd! as if the saints did not dwell in the heavens. 
 
 B. There were some who promised to be Carthusians. One 
 promised to go to James, who lives at Compostella, with bare 
 hands and feet, his body covered only with an iron coat of mail, 
 begging his food besides. 
 
 A. Did nobody mention Christopher? 
 
 B. I could scarcely refrain from smiling when I heard one 
 with a loud voice, lest, he should not be heard, promise Christo- 
 pher, who is in Paris, at the top of a church, a mountain rather 
 than a statue, a wax candle as big as he himself. While he 
 was bawling this out at the top of his voice, with now and then 
 an additional emphasis, some acquaintance who was standing 
 by touched him on the elbow and advised him, saying, ' ' Hav 
 a care what you promise; for if you sell all your goods at aue-
 
 168 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 tion, you will not be able to pay." Then says he, in a lower 
 tone, lest Christopher should hear: "Hold your tongue, fool; 
 do you think I am in earnest ? When once I have touched 
 land, I will not give him a tallow candle." 
 
 A. O, heavy wit ! I take it he was a Dutchman. 
 
 B. No, but he was a Zealander. 
 
 A. I wonder that nobody thought of Paul the Apostle. He 
 himself sailed, and when the ship was wrecked, leaped ashore; 
 for he learned through misfortune to succor the unfortunate. 
 
 B. There was no mention of Paul. 
 
 A. Did they pray meanwhile? 
 
 B. Earnestly. One sang "Salve! regina" another "Credo 
 in Deum." Some there were who had especial prayers, not 
 unlike magic formulas, against danger. 
 
 A. How religious we are in times of affliction! In times of 
 prosperity neither God nor saints come into our head. What 
 were you doing all this time ? Did you offer vows to none of 
 the saints? 
 
 B. Not one. 
 A. Why not ? 
 
 B Because I do not drive bargains with the saints. For 
 what is it other than a contract according to form ? "I will 
 give this, if you will do that; I will give you a wax candle, if 
 I swim out of this; I will go to Rome, if you will save me." 
 
 A. But you sought the protection of some saint ? 
 
 B. Not even that. 
 
 A. Why not? 
 
 B. Because Heaven is a large place. If I commend myself 
 to some saint, St. Peter for example, who is most likely to hear 
 me first of all, since he stands at the door; before he goes to 
 God and explains my case I shall be already lost. 
 
 A. What did you do, then? 
 
 B. I went immediately to the Father himself, saying: " Our 
 Father who art in Heaven." None of the saints hears sooner 
 than He, nor gives more willingly what is asked. 
 
 A. But in the meanwhile did not your conscience cry out 
 against you? were you not afraid to call him Father whom you 
 have offended with so many transgressions?
 
 DESIDERIUS ERASMUS. 1 69 
 
 B. To tell the truth, my conscience did terrify me a little; 
 but presently I gathered courage, thinking to myself as follows: 
 There is no father so angry with his son, but, if he sees him in 
 danger, in a river or lake, would seize him by the hair and 
 draw him out upon the bank. Amongst them all no one be- 
 haved more quietly than a certain woman who had a baby in 
 her arms, which she was nursing. 
 
 A. What did she do ? 
 
 B. She was the only one who did not cry or weep or promise. 
 Embracing her child, she prayed silently. In the meantime 
 the ship struck now and then, and the captain, fearing lest it 
 should go to pieces, bound it fore and aft with cables. 
 
 A. What a miserable makeshift ! 
 
 B. Meanwhile an aged priest, sixty years old, whose name 
 was Adam, comes foreward. Casting off his clothes even to 
 his shirt and his leather stockings as well, he ordered that we 
 should prepare ourselves in a similar manner for swimming; 
 and standing thus in the middle of the ship he preached to us 
 out of Gerson the five truths concerning the usefulness of con- 
 fession, exhorting us all to prepare ourselves for life or death. 
 There was present also a Dominican. Those who wished con- 
 fessed to these. 
 
 A. What did you do ? 
 
 B. Seeing that confusion reigned everywhere, I confessed 
 silently to God, condemning before him my unrighteousness 
 and imploring his mercy. 
 
 A. Whither would you have gone, if you had died thus ? 
 
 B. I left that to God as judge; nor was I disposed to be my 
 own judge; yet in the meantime I was not without some hope. 
 While these things were going on, the sailor returns to us 
 weeping. "I^et everyone prepare himself," says he, " for the 
 ship will not last us beyond another quarter of an hour. ' ' For 
 it was badly broken, and the sea was rushing in. A little later 
 the sailor informed us that he saw a church tower, and advised 
 us to pray to the saint for aid, whoever might be the patron of 
 that church. All fall upon their knees and pray to the un- 
 known saint. 
 
 A. If you had called him by name perhaps he might have 
 heard you.
 
 170 SOURCE BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE 
 
 B. He was unknown to us. Meanwhile the captain steers 
 the ship, shattered as it was, and leaking at every seam, and 
 evidently ready to fall to pieces, had it not been bound with 
 cables. 
 
 A. A sad condition of affairs. 
 
 B. We came so far in shore that the inhabitants of the place 
 saw our danger; and running in crowds to the beach, they 
 held up their coats and put their hats upon lances, to attract 
 our attention; and threw their arms upward toward the skies, 
 to signify that they were sorry for us. 
 
 A. I am anxious to know what happened. 
 
 B. The sea had already invaded the whole ship, so that we 
 were likely to be no safer in the ship than in the sea. 
 
 A. Then you were obliged to flee to the holy anchor ? 
 
 B. Nay, to the miserable one The sailors bail out the boat 
 and lower it into the sea. All attempt to crowd into it, and 
 the sailors remonstrate vigorously, crying that the boat is not 
 able to hold such a crowd; that each one should lay hold of 
 whatever he could find and take to swimming. There was no 
 opportunity for deliberation. One took an oar, another a boat- 
 hook, another a sink, another a plank; and all took to the 
 waves, each one resting upon his means of salvation. 
 
 A. In the meantime what became of that poor woman, who 
 alone did not cry out? 
 
 B. She came first of all to land. 
 
 A. How was that possible? 
 
 B. We placed her upon a wide board, and lashed her on so 
 that she could not very well fall off. We gave her a paddle in 
 her hand, which she might use instead of an oar, and, wishing 
 her well, we set her adrift, pushing her forward with a pole, so 
 that she might float wide of the ship, from which there was 
 danger. She held her baby with her left hand and paddled 
 with her right. 
 
 A. What a courageous woman ! 
 
 B. When nothing was left, some one pulled down a wooden 
 image of the Virgin Mother, now rotten and hollowed out by 
 the rats, and embracing it, began to swim. 
 
 A. Did the boat arrive safe?
 
 DESIDERIUS ERASMUS. 17 r 
 
 B, They were the first ones to be lost. 
 
 A. How did that happen ? 
 
 B. Before it could get clear of the ship it tipped and was 
 overturned. 
 
 A. How badly managed ! What then ? 
 
 B While watching the others I nearly perished myself. 
 
 A. How so? 
 
 B. Because nothing remained for me to swim upon. 
 
 A. Corks would have been of use there. 
 
 B. Just at this time I would rather have had some cheap cork 
 than a golden candlestick. Finally, as I was looking about, it 
 occurred to me that the stump of the mast would be of use to 
 me; but as I could not get it out alone, I got a companion to 
 help me. We both threw ourselves upon it and so committed 
 ourselves to the sea, I upon the right end, he upon the left. 
 While we were thus tossing about, that priest, the sea chap- 
 lain, threw himself upon the middle, between our shoulders. 
 He was a stout man. We cried out: " Who is this third man? 
 He will cause us all to perish!" He, on the other hand^ 
 mildly replied : "Be of good cheer ; there is room enough. 
 God will be with us ' ' 
 
 A. Why did he take to swimming so late ? 
 
 B. He was to have been with the Dominican in the boat, for 
 all deferred to him in this; but although they had confessed to 
 one another on the ship, yet they had forgotten something, I 
 know not what, and began confessing again at the ship's rail, 
 and one laid his hand upon the other. Meanwhile the boat 
 was lost; for Adam himself told me this. 
 
 A. What became of the Dominican ? 
 
 B. He, the same one told me, implored the saints' help, put 
 off his clothes and took to swimming all naked. 
 
 A. What saints did he invoke ? 
 
 B. Dominic, Thomas, Vincent; but he relied most upon Cath- 
 arine of Sens. 
 
 A. Did not Christ come into his mind ? 
 
 B. This is what the priest told me. 
 
 A. He would have swum better had he not put off his holy 
 cowl; with that off, how could Catharine of Sens recognize 
 him ? But go on about yourself.
 
 172 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 B. While we were tossing about near the ship, which rolled 
 hither and thither at the mercy of the waves, the helm broke 
 the thigh of him who held the left end of our float, and he was 
 knocked off. The priest prayed for his eternal rest, and suc- 
 ceeded to his place, urging me to hold courageously to my end 
 and move my feet actively. In the meanwhile we swallowed 
 a great deal of salt water. Neptune had mixed for us not only 
 a salt bath, but a salt drink; but the priest soon had a remedy 
 for that. 
 
 A. What, I pray. 
 
 B. As often as a wave came toward us, he turned the back 
 of his head to it with his mouth firmly closed. 
 
 A. You say he was a stout old man ? 
 
 B. Swimming thus for some time we had made considerable 
 progress when the priest, who was a man of unusual height, 
 said: "Be of good cheer: I feel bottom." Not having dared 
 to hope for such happiness, I replied: " We are yet too far from 
 shore to hope to find bottom." "No," he said: I feel the 
 ground with my feet." "It is," I rejoined, "some of the 
 boxes, perhaps, which the sea has tumbled thither." " No," 
 said he, " I plainly feel the earth by scratching with my toes." 
 We swam on for some time longer, and he felt bottom again. 
 ' ' You do, ' ' he said, ' ' what seems to you best. I will give you 
 the whole mast and trust myself to the bottom," and at the same 
 time waiting for the waves to flow outward, he went forward 
 as rapidly as he could. When the waves came again upon him, 
 holding firmly to his knees with both hands he met the wave, 
 sinking beneath it as sea-gulls and ducks are accustomed to do: 
 and when the wave again receded he sprang up and ran. See- 
 ing that this succeeded in his case, I did the same. Then some 
 of the strongest of those who stood upon the beach, and those 
 most used to the waves, fortified themselves against the force 
 of the waves with long poles stretched between, so that the 
 outermost held out a pole to the swimmer; and when he had 
 grasped it, the whole line moved shorewards and so he was 
 drawn safely on dry land. Some were saved in this manner. 
 
 A. How many ? 
 
 B. Seven; but of these, two fainted with the heat, when set 
 before the fire.
 
 DESIDERIUS ERASMUS. 173 
 
 A. How many were you in the ship ? 
 
 B. Fifty-eight. 
 
 A. O, cruel sea ! At least it might have been content with 
 the tithes, which suffice for the priests. Did it return so few 
 out of so great a number ? 
 
 B. We were surprisingly well treated by the people, who 
 furnished us with all things with wonderful cheerfulness, lodg- 
 ing, fire, food, clothes, and provisions for our homeward 
 journey. 
 
 A. What people were they ? 
 
 B. Dutch. 
 
 A. No people are more civil, although they are surrounded 
 with savage nations. You will not go to sea again, I take it ? 
 
 B. No, not unless God sees fit to take away my senses. 
 
 A. And as for me, I would rather hear such tales than know 
 them by experience. 
 
 11. Diversoria. 
 
 A. Why do so many people stop over for two or three days 
 at Lyons? As for me, when I start upon a journey I do not 
 rest until I come to my destination. 
 
 B. Indeed, I wonder that any one can be got away from the 
 place. 
 
 A. Why, I pray? 
 
 B. Because that is the place the companions of Ulysses could 
 not have been drawn away from. The Sirens are there. No 
 one is treated better in his own home than there at an inn. 
 
 A. What do they do ? 
 
 B Some woman was always standing near the table to divert 
 the guests with wit and fun. First the woman of the house 
 came to us, greeted us, and bade us to be of good cheer and 
 make the best of what was set before us. Then came the 
 daughter, a fine woman, merry in manner and tongue, so that 
 she might have amused Cato himself. Nor do they talk to 
 their guests as if they were strangers, but as if they were old 
 acquaintances. 
 
 A. Yes, I admit that the French people are very civil. 
 
 B. But since they could not be present all the time, and the 
 business of the house had to be attended to and the other
 
 174 SOURCE-BOOK OP THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 guests greeted, a girl well supplied with jokes attended us dur- 
 ing the whole meal. She was well able to repay all-jesters in 
 their own coin. She kept the stories going until the daughter 
 returned, for the mother was somewhat elderly. 
 
 A. But what sort of fare had you with all this? For the 
 stomach is not filled with stories. 
 
 B. Fine ! Indeed, I wonder that they can entertain guests 
 so cheaply. Then too, after dinner they divert you with pleas- 
 ant conversation, lest you should grow weary. It seemed to 
 me I was at home, not travelling. 
 
 A. How about the sleeping accommodations ? 
 
 B. Eveii there we were attended by girls, laughing, romping 
 and playing; they asked us if we had any soiled clothes, washed 
 them for us and brought them back. What more can I say ? 
 We saw nothing but women and girls, except in the stables; 
 and even there they burst in occasionally. They embrace de- 
 parting guests and send them away with as much affection as 
 if they were all brothers or near relations. 
 
 A. Very likely such manners suit the French; as for me, the 
 customs of Germany please me more. They are more manly. 
 
 B. I never happened to visit Germany; so tell me, I beg of 
 you, in what manner the Germans entertain a guest. 
 
 A. I am not certain that the process is everywhere the same. 
 I will relate what I have seen. Upon your arrival nobody 
 greets you, lest they should seem to court a guest; for they 
 consider that mean and unworthy of the German gravity. 
 When you have shouted yourself hoarse, finally some one puts 
 his head from the window of the stove-room (for they live there 
 up to the middle of the summer), just as a snail pokes its head 
 out of its shell. You have to ask him if you may be enter- 
 tained there. If he does not tell you no, you understand that 
 place will be made for you. To your inquiries, with a wave of 
 his hand, he indicates where the stables are. There you are 
 permitted to take care of your horse as you choose; for no ser- 
 vant lifts a finger. If the tavern is a large one, a servant will 
 show you the stables and a rather inconvenient place for your 
 horse. They keep the better places for those who are to come, 
 especially for the nobility. If you find fault with anything,
 
 DESIDERIUS ERASMUS. 175 
 
 you are told at once that if it does not please you, you are at 
 liberty to hunt another tavern. In the cities it is with diffi- 
 culty that you can get any hay, even a little, and then they 
 sell it almost as dear as oats. When your horse is provided 
 for, you go just as you are to the stove-room, boots, baggage 
 and mud. There is one room for all comers 
 
 B. Among the French they show the guests to sleeping- 
 rooms, where they may change their clothes, bathe and warm 
 themselves, or even take a nap, if they please. 
 
 A. Well, there is no such thing here. In the stove-room 
 you take off your boots and put on slippers. If you like, you 
 change your shirt ; you hang your clothes, wet with rain, 
 against the stove; and you sit by it yourself, in order to get 
 dry. There is water at hand if you care to wash your hands, 
 but it is generally so clean that you have to seek more water to 
 wash off that ablution. 
 
 B. I cannot refrain from praising men who are so little soft- 
 ened with the elegancies of living. 
 
 A. Even if you arrive the fourth hour after noon you cannot 
 get your supper before the ninth, and sometimes the tenth. 
 
 B. Why is that ? 
 
 A. They serve nothing until they see all the guests assem- 
 bled, iu order that the same effort may serve for all. 
 
 B. They have an eye to labor saving. 
 
 A. You are right. And thus very often eighty or ninety 
 persons are assembled in the same stove-room, footmen, horse- 
 men, tradesmen, sailors, coachmen, farmers, boys, women, 
 healthy people and sick people. 
 
 B. That is in truth a community of living. 
 
 A. One is combing his head, another wiping the perspiration 
 from his face, another cleaning his winter shoes or boots, an- 
 other reeks of garlic. What more could you desire ? Here is 
 no less confusion of tongues and of persons than there was once 
 in the tower of Babel. But if ihey see a foreigner, who shows 
 some evidence of distinction in his dress, they are all interested 
 in him, and stare at him as if he were some animal from Africa. 
 Even after they are at the table they turn their heads to get a 
 look, and neglect their meals rather than lose sight of him.
 
 176 SOURCE-BOOK OP THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 B. At Rome, Paris and Venice no one wonders at anything. 
 
 A. Meanwhile you may not call for anything. When the 
 evening is far advanced and no more guests are expected, an 
 old servant appears, with gray beard, cropped head, a savage 
 look and shabby clothes. 
 
 B. It was necessary that such should be cup-bearers to the 
 Roman Cardinals. 
 
 A. He casts his eye about and silently reckons how many 
 there are in the stove-room. The more there are present the 
 more violently the stove is heated, although the weather may 
 be uncomfortably warm outside. This is the certain indication 
 of hospitality, that everybody should be dripping with sweat. 
 If anyo ^e who is not used to this steaming, should open a 
 chink of a window, lest he be stifled, immediately he hears: 
 "Shut it! 1 ' If you reply: "I cannot bear it!" you hear: 
 "Then look out for another tavern !" 
 
 B. It seems to me there is nothing more dangerous than for 
 so many persons to breathe the same air, especially when the 
 pores are open, and then dine and stay there several hours. 
 Not to speak of the odor of garlic and bad breaths. There are 
 many, too, who are affected with secret diseases, and every 
 distemper is to a certain degree infectious. Certainly many 
 have the Spanish, or as some call it, the French evil, although 
 it is common enough to all nations. I think there is not much 
 less danger from these than from lepers. Just think, too, how 
 great danger there is from the plague! 
 
 A. Oh, they are sturdy fellows. They laugh at these things. 
 
 B. But at the same time they are brave at the expense of 
 many. 
 
 A. Well, what can you do about it ? They are accustomed 
 to it, and it is a sign of a constant mind not to depart from es- 
 tablished customs. 
 
 B. Twenty-five years ago nothing was more common among 
 the people of Brabant than public baths; now there is hardly 
 one to be found, for the new ailment has taught us to avoid 
 them. 
 
 A. But listen to the rest. The bearded Ganymede returns 
 and spreads with linen cloths as many tables as he considers
 
 ERASMUS. 
 
 necessary for the number of guests. But heavens and earth ! 
 how far from fine are the cloths. You would say they were 
 sail-cloths taken down from the yard arms of a ship. He has 
 reckoned on eight guests to each table. Those who know the 
 custom of the country now sit down, each one where he pleases; 
 for no distinction is made between a poor man and a rich man, 
 between a master and a servant. 
 
 B. That is the old equality which tyranny has driven out of 
 existence. Thus, I believe, Christ lived with his disciples. 
 
 A. Well, after all are seated, the grim Ganj'mede comes out 
 and counts over his company once more. By and by he re> 
 turns and sets before each guest a wooden dish and a spoon of 
 the same kind of silver; then a glass and a little piece of bread. 
 Each one polishes up his utensils in a leisurely way, while the 
 porridge is cooking. And thus they sit not uncommonly for*" 
 upwards of an hour. 
 
 B. Does no guest call for food in the meantime? 
 
 A. No one who is acquainted with the temper of the country. 
 At length wine is served good L,ord, how far from being taste- 
 less ! Those who water their wine ought to drink no other 
 kind, it is so thin and sharp. But if any guest seeks to obtain 
 some other kind of wine, offering to pay extra for it, at first 
 they dissemble, but with an expression as if they wished to 
 murder you. If you insist upon it they answer that a great 
 many counts and margraves have lodged there and none of 
 them has complained of the quality of the wine; if it does not 
 suit you, why then, look out for another tavern, .for they look 
 upon their noblemen as the only men of importance, and ex- 
 hibit their coats of arms everywhere. Already, then, the 
 guests have a crust to throw to their barking stomachs. By 
 and by the dishes come on in great array. The first usually 
 consists of pieces of bread soaked in meat-broth, or, if it be fish- 
 day, in a broth of herbs. After this comes another kind of 
 broth, then some kind of warmed-up meat or salt fish. Again 
 the porridge is brought on, then some more substantial food, 
 until, when the stomach is well tamed, they serve up roast 
 meat or boiled fish, which is not to be despised. But here 
 they are sparing, and take the dishes away quickly. In this
 
 178 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 way they diversify the entertainment, like play-actors who mix 
 choruses with their scenes, taking care that the last act shall 
 be the best. 
 
 B. This is indeed the mark of a good poet. 
 
 A. Moreover, it would be an unpardonable offense if anybody 
 in the meantime should say: "Take away this dish; nobody 
 cares for it." You must sit there through the prescribed time, 
 which they measure, I suppose, with an hour-glass. At last, 
 the bearded fellow, or the inn-keeper himself, who differs very 
 little from the servants in his dress, comes in and asks if there 
 is anything wanted. By and by some better wine is brought 
 on. They admire most him who drinks most; but although 
 he is the greater consumer he pays no more than he who drinks 
 least. 
 
 B. A curious people, indeed! 
 
 A. The result is that sometimes there are those who consume 
 twice the value in wine of what they pay for the whole meal. 
 But before I end my account of this entertainment, it is won- 
 derful what a noise and confusion of voices arises, when all have 
 begun to grow warm with drink. It is unnecessary to say that 
 the riot is universal. So-called jesters thrust themselves in 
 everywhere, and although there is no kind of human beings 
 more despicable, yet you would scarcely believe how the Ger- 
 
 .mans are pleased with them. They sing and prate, shout, dance 
 and thump, so that the stove seems ready to fall. No one can 
 
 '<hear another speak. But it seems to please them, and you are 
 
 .obliged to sit there, whether you will or not, until late into the 
 
 .night. 
 
 A. Now, do finally finish the entertainment; for I too am 
 worn out with the length of it. 
 
 B. Very well. When at last the cheese, which hardly pleases 
 <them unless rotten and full of worms, has been taken away, the 
 
 bearded fellow conies forth, bearing a trencher in which are 
 drawn with chalk some circles and semi-circles, and lays it upon 
 the table, so silent, meanwhile, and sad, that you would say he 
 was some Charon. Then they who comprehend the design lay 
 down their money, then another and still another, until the 
 ^trencher is filled. Then having observed who has contributed,
 
 DESIDERIUS ERASMUS. 179 
 
 he reckons it up silently; and if nothing is wanting he nods 
 with his head. 
 
 B. What if there should be something over? 
 
 A. Perhaps he would return it. As a matter of fact, this 
 sometimes happens. 
 
 B. Does nobody ever cry out against the reckoning as unjust ? 
 
 A. Nobody who is prudent. For he would hear at once : 
 " What sort of a fellow are you ? You are paying no more than 
 the others!" 
 
 B. This is certainly a frank kind of people you are telling 
 about. 
 
 A. And if anybody, weary with his journey, asks to go to 
 bed soon after supper, he is ordered to wait until the rest also 
 go to bed. 
 
 B. I seem to see a Platonic city. 
 
 A. Then each is shown to his rest, and it is truly nothing 
 more than a bed-chamber ; for there is nothing there but a bed, 
 and nothing else that you can use or steal. 
 
 B. Is there cleanliness ? 
 
 A. Just as at dinner ; linen washed six months ago, perhaps. 
 
 B. In the mean time what had become of the horses ? 
 
 A. They were treated according to the same method as the 
 men. 
 
 B. But do you get the same accommodations everywhere ? 
 
 A. Sometimes more courteous, sometimes harsher than I 
 have told you ; but on the whole it is as I have said. 
 
 B. How would you like me to tell you how guests are treated 
 in that part of Italy which is called L,ombardy, or in Spain, or 
 in England and in Wales ? For the English have assimilated 
 in part the French and in part the German customs, being a 
 mixture of these two nations. The Welsh boast that they are 
 the original English. 
 
 A. I should like you to tell me, for I never had occasion to 
 see them. 
 
 B. At present I have not time, for the sailor told me to 
 meet him at the third hour, or I should be left behind , and he 
 has my baggage. Some other time we shall have an oppor- 
 tunity of chatting to our heart's content.
 
 180 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 ULRICH VON HUTTEN. 
 
 Ulrich von Hutten (1488 1523) was born in the Castle of Steckelberg, 
 in Franconia, of the knightly class, and was destined, on account of his 
 slight stature and delicate health, for the church. He broke through 
 the parental plans, however, and gave himself to a life of literary effort. 
 Von Hutten's career was full of adventure and disorder, and lacked pur- 
 pose, until his association with ithe Reformers turned his ardent ener- 
 gies into a distinct channel. With all the impetuosity of his race he took 
 up the cudgels against the papacy. Although co-operating with Luther, 
 von Hutten's interests were never doctrinal, but economic and political. 
 He looked forward to a united Germany, in which the emperor, with the 
 free knights at his back, should sweep away the territorial barriers to his 
 power, and rid the land of the Italian yoke as well. Although he contri- 
 buted much to the advancement of the Lutheran movement in its early 
 and critical stage, yet it was well for him and for the Reformers that he 
 passed away before the movement came to be defined. He would have 
 had little sympathy with its doctrinal tendencies, or with that alliance 
 with the decentralizing forces in the empire, which alone assured its 
 success. 
 
 INSPICIENTES.* 
 
 (Sol, traversing the heavens in company with Phaeton, his son, halting 
 finished the uphill journey, employs his leisure in discussing with his 
 young companion the manners and customs of the Germans, over whose 
 land his chariot is now passing. Beneath him is Augsburg, where the 
 diet of 1518 has just been assembled, whither Caietano, legate of Pope 
 Leo X. , has been sent for the purpose of adjusting a trifling controversy 
 which has lately broken out at Wittenberg. The habitual, drunkenness 
 of the Germans has just been mentioned with regret}. 
 
 Sol. This fault is inborn with them, as deceit with the Ital- 
 ians, thievery with the Spaniards, pride with the French, and 
 other vices with other peoples. 
 
 Phaeton. If indeed they must have a fault, I should rather 
 they would have this one than those you have just mentioned. 
 I hope, however, that time, which mends all human faults, will 
 remove this as well. But let us turn our attention again to the 
 Reichstag and the Pope's legate, for he (just look, father!) is 
 moved to anger and heated with rage. Now he is shouting 
 
 * ( The On-lookers.} Ulrichi Hutteni equitis Germani opera. Ed. E. 
 Bocking, Vol. IV. Lips. 1860.
 
 ULRICH VON HUTTBN. l8l 
 
 out something to us from his place in the procession; and I 
 really believe that he is angry at us; for he is looking this way. 
 
 Sol. Yes, he is enraged at me. Listen, then, to what the 
 little fellow says, as with wrinkled brow and haughty air he 
 threatens me. 
 
 Caietan. Here, you ! At my merest suggestion, not to speak 
 of my command, you ought to shine clearer and brighter than 
 you have been doing! 
 
 Sol. What's that you say, legate ? What's that you say ? Is 
 this the way you talk to me ? 
 
 Caietan. To you! As though you did not know you were 
 guilty of a great crime! 
 
 Sol. In truth I do not. Tell me then, what evil thing have 
 I done? 
 
 Caietan. I'll tell you then. So you are coming out a little, 
 you rascal? You are shedding your rays upon the world? 
 You who ought, upon my slightest hint (let alone my com- 
 mand) to shine clearer and brighter than you do- 
 
 Sol. I don't see yet, what evil I have done. 
 
 Caietan. You don't see? You who for ten whole days have 
 shed no beam of your brightness; you who have obstinately 
 wrapped yourself in clouds, as though you begrudged the 
 world your light. 
 
 Sol. That is the fault of the astrologers and star-gazers, if it 
 is anybody's fault, for they with their prognostications have 
 arranged that I should not shine during this time. 
 
 Caietan. But you should have considered what would be 
 agreeable to a legate of the pope rather than what would please 
 the star-gazers. Don't you know what I promised you, when 
 I left Italy, if you did not warm up the German lands, which 
 .are so unseasonably cold, and make them quite summer-like 
 for me, so that I should have no need to wish myself back in 
 Italy ? 
 
 Sol. I paid no attention to your orders; for it has never been 
 my opinion that mortal man could command the sun. 
 
 Caietan. It hasn't been your opinion? Perhaps you are not 
 aware that a Roman bishop (who has in this instance endowed 
 me with all his powers) has the power to bind and loose 
 whate'er he will, in heaven and on earth?
 
 1 82 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 Sol. I have heard of it, but I did not believe that what he 
 claimed was true, for I have never known a mortal man to 
 change anything up here. 
 
 Caietan. What? You do not believe it? Perverted Chris- 
 tian that you are, they ought to put you under the ban and 
 hand you over to the devil for a heretic. 
 
 Sol. Would you cast me out of heaven and give me over to 
 the devil, and, so to speak, blot the sun out of the skies? 
 
 Caietan. Indeed I will do it, if you do not quickly confess to 
 one of my secretaries and seek absolution from me. 
 
 Sol. When I have confessed, what will you do with me then ? 
 
 Caietan. I shall lay a penalty upon you, that you may 
 hunger with fastings, or perform some difficult task, or tire 
 yourself with pilgrimages, or give alms, or contribute some- 
 thing toward the Turkish war, or give money for an indul- 
 gence, wherewith the cathedral of St. Peter, which now is 
 fallen into ruins at Rome, may be rebuilt; or if you wish to 
 save your money, that you be scourged with rods for your sins. 
 
 Sol. That is rather severe. What will you do with me after 
 that? 
 
 Caietan. Then I will absolve you and make you clean. 
 
 Sol. Thus, as the proverb runs, you will brighten up the 
 sun? 
 
 Caietan. Yes, I will do that, if it please me, by virtue of the 
 powers which the tenth Leo has conferred upon me. 
 
 Sol. What trickery do I hear! Do you mean to say, that 
 any one, even amongst mortals, is silly enough to believe you 
 have this power? Not to speak of the sun, that has oversight 
 upon all. You had better go and take a dose of hellebore; for 
 it seems to me you are losing your mind. 
 
 Caietan. "Losing my mind!" You are de facto under the 
 ban ; for you have spoken disrespectfully to the Pope's legate, 
 whereby you have fallen into great and intolerable damnation. 
 Therefore will I shortly proclaim you publicly and with all the 
 pomp of a great assembly under the ban, because you have 
 angered me. 
 
 Phaeton. Father, I should scorn this arrogance. What may 
 a wretched mortal do against immortal creatures ?
 
 ULRICH VON HUTTEN. 183 
 
 Sol. I>t us rather treat him with contempt. He is indeed 
 to be pitied, for he has gone mad through illness. 
 
 Phaeton, What sort of illness ? 
 
 Sol. He is sick with greed. Since the matter which he has 
 in hand in Germany will not come his way, he has fallen into 
 a rage and lost his mind in consequence. But I am disposed 
 to chaff him further. What say you, holy father ? Would you 
 condemn me unheard and guiltless ? 
 
 Phaeton. Just as I have said. It is not customary to permit 
 all those to have a hearing, who have been condemned by the 
 Pope and his legates. 
 
 Sol. That would be wrong, however, if anybody but you 
 should do it. But be gracious, I beseech you, and forgive me 
 my sins just this once. 
 
 Caieian. Now you are talking properly; for whoever will not 
 be damned, must sue for grace. Wherefore I command you, 
 to look out for me, wherever I may be ; and now, so long as I 
 remain in Germany, to make good weather, and by virtue of 
 your heat to banish that cold which tortures me yet even in the 
 month of July. 
 
 Sol. Why don't you put the cold under the ban ? 
 
 Caietan. That is worth thinking of ; but you attend to that 
 which I command. 
 
 Sol. I should have done this before, but I thought that you 
 were engaged in some secret undertaking which you did not 
 wish these ordinary German people to see. Wherefore I feared 
 that if I should shine brightly, and display these secrets of yours 
 to the eyes of the people, your affairs might miscarry. 
 
 Caietan. How could you show my secret affairs to others, 
 when you do not know them yourself ? 
 
 Sol. I don't know them? Do you think I don't know that 
 your present wish is to prevent Charles from being chosen 
 Roman King in accordance with the desires of his subjects? 
 That you have many other things under way, in which, if the 
 Germans knew, they would no longer assist you, but would 
 hate you with a deadly hatred. 
 
 Caietan. I^et them hate me, for they must fear me too. I 
 have indeed not wished to have you disclose such things. 
 Moreover, if you do it, you are under the ban.
 
 1 84 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 Sol. What a tyrant you are, to be sure. 
 
 Caietan. Furthermore, I command you that you shall direct 
 your arrow and shoot pestilence and sudden death amongst 
 .the Germans, in order that many benefices and spiritual fiefs 
 -.may become vacant, that pensions may accrue and money flow 
 to Rome, and something of all this shall be mine. For it is 
 now a long time since clerics have been dying frequently 
 enough in Germany. Do you hear what I tell you ? 
 
 Sol. Perfectly. 
 
 Caietan. But first of all shoot at the bishops, that the pallia 
 may be bought. Then hit the provosts and the wealthy pre- 
 lates, in order that the Pope's new creatures may have where- 
 'with to live ; for they must be considered each according to his 
 jrank, in order that they may want nothing. 
 
 Sol. In order that I may bring about a pestilence it will be 
 necessary to bring on clouds, to drop a mist upon the earth and 
 darken the atmosphere ; wherefore I fear that this bad weather 
 will displease you. 
 
 Caietan. Well, I prefer that the pestilence should take place, 
 so that the benefices may be vacant. So far as the atmosphere 
 is concerned, darken it as little as you may ; but if you cannot 
 avoid it, do what is best and most useful. 
 
 Phaeton. O miserable rascal ! Now for the first time I per- 
 -ceive where the shoe pinches, what pleases and displeases him, 
 "what makes him sad, what joyful ! I,et the stream flow to his 
 -desire, and he can endure all kinds of air, cold and bad weather. 
 I will address him. I/isten, wretched man. A shepherd should 
 pasture his sheep, not murder them. 
 
 Caietan. What say you, church-thief? What say you, 
 wicked driver? You, whom I shall crush and crunch in a 
 moment with my curse. Will you seek to hinder my affairs ! 
 
 Phaeton. Indeed, I certainly shall, if I am able. For why 
 do you seek to kill those from whom you are forcing money in 
 every way without this means ? 
 
 Caietan. You accursed one, you malefactor, you condemned, 
 a son of Satan, how dare you yelp against me? Is it wrong 
 that a shepherd should shear his sheep ? 
 
 Phaeton. That he should shear them is not wrong; for the
 
 LETTERS OF OBSCURE MEN. 185 
 
 good shepherds do that as well ; but they do not kill and flay 
 them. Tell that to your Pope Leo, and say to him as well, 
 that if he does not send henceforth more temperate legates into 
 Germany, he will some day see a conspiracy of the sheep 
 against an unjust, harsh and blood-thirsty shepherd, and they 
 will perhaps do a deed that is both right and merited. Already 
 indeed they sing and talk about you, and it is my opinion that 
 they will no longer tolerate you, not even if you should send 
 wagons full of excommunications against them across the 
 mountains. 
 
 Caietan. You are letting out a thing that should not be talked 
 about. Wherefore be you excommunicated! I lay this pun- 
 ishment upon you for the discourteous, thoughtless talk which 
 you have addressed to me. 
 
 Phaeton. Then I leave you, an object of derision to the Ger- 
 mans, whom you are in the habit of plundering; and may they 
 drive you hence with ridicule and abuse, even handle you 
 roughly, and so use you, that you may be an example to pos- 
 terity. Scorn be upon you! Thus I punish you. 
 
 Sol. Cease with your scurrility; it is time to guide our car 
 down the slope and make way for the evening star. Let him 
 lie, cheat, steal, rob and plunder at his own risk. 
 
 Phaeton. The devil fly away with him! Come, then, I will 
 prick up the steeds and get us hence. 
 Jacta est alea. 
 
 LETTERS OF OBSCURE MEN.. 
 
 Johannes Pfefferkorn, a converted Jew of Cologne, desiring to give evi- 
 dence of his zeal for the Christian faith, secured from the emperor Maxi- 
 milian I. an order which called for the suppression and destruction of all 
 rabbinical writings, as hostile to Christianity. It was the belief of Ger- 
 man humanists that Pfefferkorn was nothing more than the instrument 
 of the Dominicans at Cologne, who sought in this manner to counteract 
 the growing interest in the study of Hebrew. The archbishop of Mainz 
 suspended the execution of the order until the matter could be more 
 thoroughly investigated. Opinions regarding the value of the Hebrew 
 writings were requested from several universities, from Jacob von Hoch- 
 straten, papal inquisitor of Cologne and from Johann Reuchlin. Of 
 
 *Epistolae obscurorum virorum Ed. Bucking, Leipzig, 1864, pasfim<
 
 1 86 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 these, Reuchlin alone went deeply into the subject. His report 
 favorable to the Hebrew writings as a whole, excepting certain ones 
 which dealt in witchcraft or were abusive of Christian doctrine. These 
 he considered worthy of extinction. In general, however, he was un- 
 favorable to this method of combatting error, and suggested the founda- 
 tion in each university of a chair of Hebrew, for the better understanding 
 of these works. Other opinions were unfavorable, and thus Reuchlin 
 stood alone as the champion of Hebrew lore and the defender, in thi 
 particular, of the claims of humanism. 
 
 Pfefferkorn continued to be the instrument of the Cologne party. His 
 Handspiegel, which he sold, with his wife's help, at the great Frankfort 
 fair of 1511, was a violent attack upon Reuchlin, who replied in the 
 Augenspiegel, which in turn elicited a Brandspeigel from his detractor. 
 The controversy was seasoned on both sides with the violent abuse of the 
 time. The faculty of Cologne condemned the Augenspiegz.1 as heretical 
 in 1513. The University of Paris followed in 1514. Reuchlin was cited 
 before the tribunal of the inquisition, and although his case was trans- 
 ferred to the curia, his book was publicly burned. A commission ap- 
 pointed by Leo X. sat at Speir and declared Reuchlin free of heresy, 
 adjudging the costs to Hochstraten, whereupon the inquisitor proceeded 
 to Rome, well supplied with funds, and secured a reversal of the decis- 
 sion. A protest of Reuchlin suspended execution, and the matter drifted 
 on in the curia without result. 
 
 But the case, if silenced in the ecclesiastical courts, was taken up before 
 the bar of public opinion. Reuchlin, feeling the need of public rehabili- 
 tation, published in 1514 a book containing a selection of letters of sym- 
 pathy addressed to him by men of note in the world of humanism. This 
 was the Clarorum virorum epistolae etc. The title proved a source of in- 
 spiration for certain waggish scholars, humanists, and partisans of 
 Reuchlin, whose identity evenat this time is imperfectly known. In 1515 
 appeared at Hegenau the first series of letters, known as the Epistolae 
 virorum obscurorunt. The letters are addressed for the most part to 
 Ortuin Gratius, a distinguished member of the faculty of Cologne, a man 
 of high attainments and of ability as an author. The writers of the let- 
 ters are supposed to be clergymen, at Rome and elsewhere, who seek or 
 desire to impart in formation regarding the Reuchlin affair, or who appeal 
 to Gratius to settle some point of dispute. The general effort of the let- 
 ters is to expose the ignorance and baseness of the clergy and to throw 
 ridicule upon the rank and file of the Cologne party. It is a part of the 
 internal protest against the bigotry and shortcomings of the clergy, a 
 protest that became schismatic only under the lead of Luther. The 
 letters are supposed to be the work of half a dozen men ; bnt among them 
 the most prominent are Crotus Rubeanus (1480-1540) and Ulrich von 
 Hutten.
 
 LETTERS OF OBSCURE MEN. 187 
 
 MASTER JOHANNKS PEUJKEX PRESENTS HIS GREETING TO MASTER 
 ORTUIN GRATIUS. 
 
 Friendly greeting and endless service, most worthy Master I. 
 Since, as Aristotle says in the Categories, it is not wholly use- 
 less in certain cases to give way to doubt, I will confess that a 
 certain thing is lying heavily on my conscience. Not long ago 
 I was at Frankfort fair, and, while walking along the street to- 
 ward the market with a bachelor, we met two men who, to all 
 appearances, were quite respectable ; they wore black cloaks and 
 great hoods with tassels hanging down behind. God is my 
 witness that I believed they were two masters, and I greeted 
 them, therefore, with reverence. Then the bachelor slapped 
 me on the back and said : " For the love of God, what are you 
 doing? They are Jews, and you have taken off your hat to 
 them ! " At this such a fright seized me as if I had seen the 
 devil, and I answered: "Sir Baccalaureus, God have mercy 
 upon me. I have done it in ignorance ; so what do you think; 
 is that a grievous sin ?" Then at first he said : "According to 
 my view it is a mortal sin, since it comes under the head of 
 idolatry, and therefore violates the first of the ten command- 
 ments, which says, ' I believe in one God ;' because, if any one 
 honors a Jew or a heathen as if he were a Christian, he acts 
 against Christendom, and puts himself in the position of a Jew 
 or heathen, and then the Jews and heathen say : ' See how we 
 are progressing, since the Christians honor us ; for if we were 
 not progressing, surely they would not honor us ; and in this 
 way they are strengthened in their evil ways, despise the 
 Christian faith and refuse baptism." Upon this I answered : 
 " That is very true, if the thing be done knowingly, but I have 
 done it unknowingly, and ignorance excuses sin ; for had I 
 known that they were Jews, and then had shown them respect, 
 then I should have deserved the gallows, because that would be 
 a heresy. But neither by word nor deed God knows had I 
 any knowledge whatsoever, for I believed they were two mas- 
 ters." Then he answered: It is nevertheless a sin," and re- 
 lated the following: " I too went once through a church, where a 
 Jew, made of wood, with a hammer in his hand, stood before
 
 1 88 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 our Saviour. I believed, however, that it was St Peter, and 
 that he had the key in his hand ; so I bent ray knee and took 
 off my cap. Then for the first time I saw that it was a Jew, 
 and this made me very sad and repentant. But at confession, 
 which I made in the Dominican convent, my father confessor 
 told me that it was a mortal sin, since you must be on your 
 guard. He would not have been able to give me absolution if 
 he had not had episcopal powers, for it was a case reserved to 
 the bishop ; he also added that if I had done it intentionally, it 
 would have been a case for the pope. So I was absolved be- 
 cause he had episcopal powers. And, really, I believe that if 
 you would keep your conscience clear, you must confess to the 
 officer of the consistory. Ignorance cannot excuse your sin, 
 for you should have taken care. The Jews have always a yel- 
 low ring on the front of their cloaks, which you certainly ought 
 to have seen, for I saw it ; so it is gross ignorance on your part, 
 and cannot effect forgiveness of sins." Thus reasoned in my 
 case this bachelor. But, since you are a deeply-read theologian, 
 I want to ask you earnestly and humbly that you will solve the 
 above question for me, and write me whether it is a question 
 here of a mortal or venial sin ; whether it is a simple case, or 
 an episcopal, or a papal reserved case. Also write me whether, 
 according to your view, the citizens of Frankfort do right that 
 they permit, in this wise, Jews to go about in the garb of our 
 masters. It seems to me that it is not right, and likely to 
 arouse great bitterness, that there should be no distinction be- 
 tween the Jews and our masters ; also, it is a mockery of the 
 sacred theology, and the most excellent Emperor and lord ought 
 not to permit that a Jew, who is at the best only a dog and an 
 enemy of Christ, should go about like a doctor of the sacred 
 theology. I also send you a composition of Master Bernhard 
 Plumilegus (in common language, Federleser), which he has 
 sent to me from Wittenberg. You know him, for he was your 
 fellow scholar at Deventer. He told me that you had jolly 
 times together : he is a good fellow and cannot praise you 
 enough. Then Farewell, in the Lord's name. Given at 
 Leipzig.
 
 LETTERS OF OBSCURE MEN. 189 
 
 NICHOLAS CAPRIMUI.GIUS, BACCALAUREUS, TO MASTER ORTUIN GRATIUS. 
 
 Many greetings, with deep respect to your excellency, as is. 
 my duty in writing to your Mastership. Most worthy Master, 
 you must know that there is a most important question, in re- 
 gard to which I desire and beseech a decision from your Mas- 
 tership. There is here a certain Greek who, when he writes 
 Greek, always puts accents over the words. Recently I had 
 occasion to say : " Master Ortuin, from De venter, also dealt 
 with Greek grammar, and understood it quite as well as this, 
 man, and he never wrote the accents, and I know that he 
 understood what he was doing quite as well as this man, and 
 could have excelled the Greek if he had desired," But the 
 others would not believe me, and my comrades and colleagues 
 besought me to write your lordship that you might instruct me 
 as to how it ought to be, whether you ought to put the accents 
 there or not. If not, then we will make it so hot for the Greek 
 that he will feel it, and we will bring it about that he shall have 
 few listeners. I remember to have seen, when I was with you 
 in Cologne at the house of Heinrich Quentel, where you were 
 proof-reader and had to correct Greek, that you drew your pen 
 through all accents that stood above the letters, with these 
 words: "What is this foolishness ?" And so it occurred to. 
 me that you had some reason for this, otherwise you would not 
 have done it. You are a marvelous man, and God has im- 
 parted to you the great grace to know something of everything 
 knowable. Therefore, you must give thanks to God the Lord, 
 to the blessed Virgin and to all God's saints in your poetry. 
 Take it not evil of me that I trouble your excellence with ques- 
 tions of this nature, since I do it for my instruction. Farewell.. 
 Leipzig. 
 
 MASTER JOHANNES HIPP TO MASTER ORTUIN GRATIUS, GREETING. 
 
 " Rejoice in the Lord, O ye just : praise becometh the up- 
 right" (Psalms xxxii. n). In order that you may not say in. 
 anger, " What does he want with this quotation ?" you must 
 hasten to read a piece of joyful news, which will wonderfullj' 
 rejoice your excellence and which I will briefly relate. There 
 was here a poet, by name Johannes Sommerfeld ; he was very
 
 1 90 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 arrogant, looked down upon masters of arts and made little of 
 them in his lectures, saying that they were ignorant, that one 
 poet was worth ten masters, and that in processions it was 
 proper that poets should have precedence over masters and 
 licentiates. He lectured on Pliny and other authors, and ex- 
 pressed himself to the effect that the masters of art were not 
 masters of the seven liberal arts, but rather of the seven deadly 
 sins ; that they stood upon no good foundation, since they were 
 not learned in poetics, but knew only Petrus Hispanus and the 
 Parva logicalia. He had many listeners, and among them noble 
 bursars, and he said there was nothing in the Scotists and the 
 Thoniists, and made sport of the holy teachers. The masters 
 waited for convenient opportunity to avenge themselves, with 
 the help of God, and it was the divine will that he held a dis 
 course wherein he scored masters, doctors, licentiates and 
 bachelors, praised his own branch and spoke slightingly of the 
 holy theology. In this manner he aroused great anger on the 
 part of the gentlemen of the faculty. The masters and doctors 
 took counsel and said : ' ' What shall we do ? This man is be- 
 having in a shocking manner ; if we let him go on in this way 
 the world will believe he is more learned than we. L,et not 
 these upstarts come and say they are of more importance than 
 their elders, and in this way bring shame and ridicule upon 
 our university." Then said Master Andreas Delitzsch, who, 
 moreover, is a good poet, that it seemed to him that Sommer- 
 feld was, in respect to the university, somewhat like the fifth 
 wheel to a wagon, because he stood in the way of the other 
 faculties, by whose aid the academic youth might be suitably 
 prepared for graduation. The other masters swore that this 
 was so, and the result was that they came to the conclusion 
 that this poet should be expelled, or, at least, shut out, even if 
 thereby they should draw upon themselves his enmity. They 
 summoned him before the rector, and posted the summons on 
 the church doors ; he appeared with counsel, demanded the 
 privilege of defending himself, and was accompanied with other 
 friends, who stood by him. The masters demanded that these 
 should retire, otherwise they would be forsworn if they ap- 
 peared against the university. Indeed, the masters showed
 
 LETTERS OF OBSCURE MEN. 1 91 
 
 themselves full of courage in this struggle ; they remained 
 firm and vowed that iu the interest of justice they would spare 
 no one. Certain jurists and courtiers plead for him. To these 
 the masters replied that it was not possible ; they had their 
 statutes, and according to these statutes he must be dismissed. 
 What was remarkable is, that the prince himself (Duke George) 
 interceded for him. It did no good, however, for they said to 
 the Duke that it was his duty to uphold the statutes of the uni- 
 versity, for the statutes are to the university what the binding 
 is to a book ; were there no binding, then the leaves would fall 
 apart, and were there no statutes there would be no order in the 
 university ; dissension would reign amongst its members and 
 result in complete chaos. Therefore, the prince must look out 
 for the best interests of the university, as his father had done 
 before him. In this wise the prince allowed himself to be per- 
 suaded, and declared he could not stand out against the uni- 
 versity, and that it was better for one to be dismissed than that 
 the whole university should suffer. The masters were much 
 pleased with this, and said: " My lord Duke, God be thanked 
 for your wise decision . ' ' Then the rector caused an order to be 
 posted upon the church doors, to the effect that Sommerfeld 
 was retired for ten years. His auditors, however, expressed 
 themselves variously in the matter, and said that the members 
 of the council had done wrong toward Sommerfeld; but these 
 gentlemen replied in turn that they did not care a penny's 
 worth. Certain bursars expressed themselves to the effect that 
 Sommerfeld would revenge himself for the insult and would 
 summon the university before the Roman curia. Then the 
 masters laughed and said: "Nonsense; what would the fellow 
 accomplish ?" And now that great harmony now reigns in the 
 university, and Master Delitzsch lectures on the humanities; 
 and also the master from Rothenburg, who has written a book 
 quite three times as large as Virgil's complete works. He has 
 gotten together much of value in this book in defence of our 
 holy mother church and in praise of the saints; he has recom- 
 mended especially our university, both the sacred theology and 
 the humanistic faculty, and he blames those worldly and heathen 
 poets. The masters also say that his poems are as good as the
 
 IQ2 SOURCE-BOOK OP THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 poems of Virgil, and are without errors ; for he perfectly un- 
 derstands the art of writing verse and has been a good versifier 
 for the past twenty years. Wherefore, the gentlemen of the 
 council gave him permission to lecture on this book instead of 
 on Terence, for it is more valuable than Terence and inculcates 
 good Christian doctrine, and does not deal with harlots and 
 scalawags, like Terence. You must spread this news in your 
 university, and perhaps it will happen to Busch as it has hap-* 
 pened to Sommerfeld. When are you going to send me your 
 book against Reuchlin ? You often mention it, but nothing 
 has come to me yet. You have written me you would be sure 
 to send it, but you have not done so. May God forgive you, 
 since you do not love me as I love you, for you are to me as my 
 own heart. But send it to me, for " I have greatly desired to 
 eat this Paschal lamb with you " that is to say, to read this 
 book. Also write me the news, and compose an essay or a few 
 verses to my honor, if I be worth the trouble. Fare you well 
 in Christ the I/ord our God, from everlasting unto everlasting! 
 Amen. 
 
 BROTHER SIMON WURST, DOCTOR OF SACRED THEOLOGY, TO MASTER 
 ORTUIN GRATIUS, GREETING. 
 
 Since the defence of Johannes Pfefferkorn "against the 
 calumnies, etc.," which he composed in L,atin has been received 
 here, we have had something new every day. One says this, 
 another that ; one is for him, another for Reuchlin; one defends, 
 another condemns him; it is a desperate struggle, and they are 
 angry enough to come to blows. If I should relate to you all 
 the feuds that have arisen out of this book, the period of an 
 Olympiad would not suffice, so I will merely make a few re- 
 marks by the way. The majority, and for the most part the 
 worldly masters, the presbyters and brethren of the Minorites 
 assert that Pfefferkorn could not possibly be the author of fie 
 book, for he has never learned a word of Latin. I replied that 
 objection had no force, although it has been urged against 
 many prominent men to this very day, but unjustly; for Jo- 
 hannes Pfefferkorn. who always carries pen and ink with him, 
 could write down what he hears, whether it be in public lee-.
 
 LETTERS OF OBSCURE MEN. 193 
 
 tures, or in private assemblies, or when students or brethren 
 from the Dominican order come to his house, or when he goes 
 to the bath. Holy Lord, how many sermons must he have 
 heard during twelve years ! How many admonitions ! How 
 many quotations from the holy fathers ! These he might re- 
 tain in his memory, or he might communicate them to his wife, 
 or write them on the wall, or enter them in his diary. In the 
 same way I called attention briefly to the fact that Johannes 
 Pfefferkorn says of himself not with boasting that he can 
 apply to any theme, be it good or evil, everything that is con 
 tained in the Bible, or in the Holy Scriptures, either in Hebrew 
 or in German; and he knows by heart all the evangels that are 
 expounded the whole year through, and can say them off to a 
 letter, a thing which those jurists and poets cannot do. More- 
 over, he has a son, Lorenz by name, a really talented young 
 man, who is pale as a ghost from nothing but study; and in- 
 deed, I wonder that his father allows him to pursue his studies 
 with those devilish poets. This son collects for his father sen- 
 tences from the orators and poets upon every possible subject r 
 as well those which he himself uses as those used by his teachers,, 
 and he also knows how to cite his Hugh. And thus Johannes 1 
 Pfefferkorn has come to know much by means of this talented' 
 youth, and what he, as an unlearned man, is not able to ac- 
 c jmplish of himself, his son does for him. Therefore, woe to- 
 all those who have spread abroad the false report that he did ; 
 not himself write his books, but that the doctors and masters- 
 in Cologne are the true authors ! Johannes Reuchlin has rea- 
 son to blush and to sigh to eternity for having said that Jo- 
 hannes Pfefferkorn did not himself compose his ' ' Hand'spiegel, ' ' 
 whereby it has been contended amongst learned men that three 
 men furnished him with the authorities which he cited. Where- 
 upon a certain one said: " Who are those men ?" I answered: 
 " I do not know. I believe, however, that they are the same 
 three men who appeared to Abraham, as we read in the first 
 book of Moses." And when I had spoken they laughed at me- 
 and treated me as if I were a simpleton. I wish the devil 
 would strike them with a plague, as is written in the book of 
 Job, which we are now reading at table in our monastery. Say,.
 
 194 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 then, to Johannes Pfefferkorn, he must have patience, for I 
 hope that God will work a miracle; and greet him in my name. 
 Also greet for me his wife, since you know her well, but secretly. 
 Farewell. Written in haste and without much reflection, at 
 Antwerp. 
 
 MASTER BERTHOtD HACKERI.ING TO MASTER ORTUIN GRATIUS. 
 
 Brotherly love in the place of greeting, honored sir ! When 
 I left you I promised that I would keep you informed of all 
 news, and let you know how I am getting along. Know, then, 
 that I have been two months in the city of Rome and have as 
 yet secured no patron. An assessor of the Roman curia was 
 disposed to take me. I was quite delighted, and said: "It is 
 well, sir, but will your magnificence kindly tell me what I shall 
 have to do." He answered that I would be an hostler, and my 
 duty would be to take care of a mule, to feed and water it, curry 
 and rub it down, and have it in readiness when he wished to 
 ride forth, with bridle, saddle and everything. Then I must 
 run beside the mule to the court-room and back home again. 
 I told him that such work was not for me; that I was a master 
 of the liberal arts in Cologne, and could do nothing of the sort. 
 He answered: " Well, if you don't want to do it, its your own 
 loss." And so I believe I will go back home again. I cer- 
 tainly will not curry a mule or clean out stables. I had rather 
 the devil would fly away with his mule, stable and all ! And I 
 believe, too, that it would be against the statutes of our uni- 
 versity; for a master must conduct himself like a master. And 
 it would be a great disgrace to the university if a Cologne mas- 
 ter should do such a thing. For the honor of the university 
 I shall return home. And, anyway, I do not like Rome; the 
 people in the chancellery and in the curia are so haughty; you 
 would not believe it. One of them said to me yesterday, he 
 would spit upon Cologne masters. I told him I hoped he might 
 have a chance to spit on the gallows. Then he said he too was 
 a master, that is to say a master of the curia, and that a master 
 of the curia stood high above a master of the liberal arts from 
 Germany. I answered: "Impossible;" and said, moreover, 
 " You mean to say you are as good as I, when you have passed
 
 LETTERS OF OBSCURE MEN. 195 
 
 no examination, as I have, in which five masters have tested 
 me thoroughly ? You are a master made with a seal." Upon 
 this he began to dispute with me and said: "What is a mas- 
 ter ?" I answered: " A person of proved ability, regularly pro- 
 moted and graduated in the seven liberal arts, after he has 
 passed the master's examination; who has the right to wear a 
 gold ring, and a'silken band on his gown, and who bears him- 
 self toward his pupils as a king toward his subjects. And 
 magister is used in four senses: In one sense it is derived from 
 magis and ter, because a master knows three times as much as 
 an ordinary person. In the second sense from magis and terreo, 
 because a master excites terror when his pupils look upon him. 
 In the third sense from magis and theron (that is, status), be- 
 cause the master in his position must be higher than his pupils. 
 In the fourth sense from magis and sedere, because the master 
 must sit far higher than any one of his pupils." Then he 
 asked me: " Who is your authority ?" I answered that I had 
 read it in the Vade mecum. At once he was disposed to blame 
 the book, and said that it was no reliable source. I answered: 
 ' ' You discredit those ancients, and yet you do not know any 
 better. I have never heard any one in Cologne discredit this 
 book. Are you not ashamed of yourself?' ' And in great anger 
 I left him. And once more I tell you that I am disposed to re- 
 turn to Germany, for there the masters are gentlemen, and 
 rightly so. This I can show from the gospels, for Christ called 
 Himself "Master" and not "Doctor" when He said, "Ye 
 call me L,ord and Master, and ye do well, for such am I. ' ' But 
 I cannot write further, for I have no more paper, and it is far 
 to the Catnpo Fiore. Farewell ! Written at the Roman curia. 
 
 MASTER CONRADUS UNCKEBUNCK TO MASTER ORTUIN GRATIUS, MANY 
 
 GREETINGS. 
 
 " A mouth have they and speak not; eyes have they and see 
 not; ears have they and hear not," says the Psalmist. These 
 words may serve as introduction and as text for what I am 
 about to say. Master Ortuin has a mouth and speaks not; not 
 even so much as to say to a servant of the curia on his way to 
 Rome; " Give my regards to Conrad Unckebunck." Eyes has
 
 196 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 he also and sees not; for I have written him many letters and 
 he has not answered me, as if he read them not, or merely 
 glanced at them. In the third place he has ears and hears not: 
 for I have asked several friends to greet him when they came 
 where he was; but he has heard none of my greetings; for he 
 has not answered them. In this you clearly do wrong, for I 
 am fond of you and you ought to be fond of me in return; but 
 you are not, for you do not write me. I should be so glad if 
 you would write me, for when I read your letters my inmost 
 heart rejoices. I have heard, however, that you have few 
 hearers, and that your complaint is that Busch and Csesarius 
 have drawn the scholars away from you; and yet they do not 
 understand how to expound the poets allegorically, as you do, 
 nor how to quote the holy writ. I believe the devil is in those 
 poets. They are the ruin of all universities. I heard a Leip- 
 zig master, who has been a master for thirty-six years, say that 
 in his younger days that university was in a flourishing con- 
 dition, because there was no poet for twenty miles round about. 
 And he also said that the students diligently prepared their 
 lessons, as well the general as the professional, and it was reck- 
 oned a great disgrace if a student went through the streets 
 without his Petrus Hispanus or the Parva logicalia under his 
 arm; and if they were students of grammar they carried the 
 Partes of Alexander, or the Vade mecum, or the Exercitium 
 puerorum, or the Opus -minus, or the Dicta of Johannes Sinthen. 
 Moreover, in the schools they gave attention and held the 
 masters of arts in honor, and when they saw a master they were 
 as frightened as if they had seen the devil. And he said that 
 the bachelor's degree was conferred four times a year, and that 
 on each occasion sixty, or at least fifty, degrees were given. At 
 that time the university was flourishing, if any one passed in 
 half the subjects of a year's course he received the bachelor's 
 degree, and if he passed in half the subjects for three years, a 
 masters's degree; the result was that their parents were satis- 
 fied and willing to spend their money, for they saw that their 
 sons were attaining to honors. But now students wished to hear 
 Virgil and Pliny and other new fangled authors, and when they 
 have listened for five years, even then they are not graduated;
 
 LETTERS OF OBSCURE MEN. 197 
 
 and when they go back home their parents ask: " What are 
 you ?" and they reply that they are nothing, but that they have 
 studied poetry. But their parents do not know what that is; 
 .and when they see that they are not grammarians, they are dis- 
 satisfied with the university and regret having spent their 
 money. And they say to others later on " Do not send your 
 boys to the university, because they study nothing, but hang 
 about the streets by night, and the money is wasted which is 
 given for study." And this master told me further, that in his 
 time there were quite two thousand students at Leipzig and as 
 many at Erfurt, and at Vienna four thousand and as many at 
 Cologne, and so on at the other universities. But now at all 
 universities together there are not as many students as formerly 
 at one or two. The Leipzig masters bewail the lack of stud- 
 ents, for the poets have done them this injury. When parents 
 send their sons to the bursaries and colleges they are unwilling 
 to remain there, but go to the poets and study worthless stuff. 
 He told me also that he himself formerly had forty pupils at 
 Leipzig, and when he went to church, or to market, or to stroll 
 in the Rosen garten, they marched along behind him, It was 
 then a serious offense to study poetry; and when any one ac- 
 knowledged in the confessional that he had secretly heard a 
 bachelor expound Virgil, the priest imposed a severe penalty 
 upon him, causing him to fast every Friday or to repeat each 
 day seven penitential psalms. And he swore to me upon his 
 conscience that a candidate for the master's degree had been 
 turned down because one of the examiners had once seen him, 
 on a holiday, reading Terence. If such conditions obtained 
 nowadays in the universities, I should not be slaving here in 
 the curia. But what can we do at the universities? There is 
 nothing to be made. The bursars are no longer willing to stay 
 : in the bursaries or under the masters, and among twenty stud- 
 ents scarcely one has any intention of studying for a degree; but 
 all wish to study the humanities. And when a master lectures, 
 he has no hearers; but the poets have at their lectures an in- 
 credible number of hearers. Thus, all the universities of Ger- 
 many are losing; and we must pray to God that the poets may 
 -die, for " it is better that one should die," etc.; that is to say,
 
 198 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 that the poets, of whom there are only a few in each university ,. 
 should die, rather than that so many universities should perish. 
 Write me now, or I will complain loudly of your negligence. 
 Farewell. Written at Rome. 
 
 JOHANNES KALB TO MASTER ORTUIN GRATIUS. 
 
 A friendly greeting, honorable sir and venerable master. It 
 surprises me greatly that you are always pestering me with 
 your everlasting demand: " Write me some news." You are 
 always eager to learn the news, but I have other things to do. 
 I cannot bother about novelties; as it is, I am obliged to run 
 hither and thither and solicit in order to get a favorable deci- 
 sion and acquire that benefice. But if you will be content, I 
 will write you once, so that in the future you may let me rest 
 with your news. You have no doubt heard that the pope has 
 a great animal, called Elephant, and that he holds it in great 
 honor and loves it much. Now you must know that this ani- 
 mal is dead. When it was taken sick the pope was in great 
 distress, and summoned several physicians and said to them : 
 " If it is possible, cure Elephant for me." Then they did their 
 best; made a careful diagnosis and administered a purge that 
 cost five hundred golden florins, but it was in vain, for the ani- 
 mal died. The pope grieved much for Elephant. They say 
 he gave a thousand ducats for Elephant; for it was a wonderful 
 animal, and had a long snout of prodigious size. When it be- 
 held the pope it knelt before him and cried with a terrible voice, 
 " bar ! bar ! bar !" I believe there was no other animal of the 
 kind in the world. They say, also, that the king of France and 
 King Charles have concluded a peace for many years with 
 mutual pledges. Many, however, are of the opinion that the 
 peace was made with reservations and will not last long. I do 
 not know what the facts really are, and do not care much; for 
 when I come back to Germany I shall go to my pastorate and 
 enjoy life. I have there many geese, chickens and ducks, and I 
 can keep five or six cows, which will give me milk, so that I 
 can make cheese and butter, I want to have a cook who un- 
 derstands such work. She must be an elderly woman; for if 
 she were young, she would be a temptation to the flesh, and I
 
 JOHANNES BUTZBACH. 199 
 
 might sin. She must also know how to spin, for I will buy her 
 flax. And I will also keep two or three pigs and fatten them, 
 so that I shall have plenty of pork; for above all things I will 
 supply my house with an abundance of material for the kitchen. 
 Once in a while I will butcher an ox, sell half to the peasants- 
 and smoke the rest. Back of the house I have a garden, where 
 I shall plant garlic, onions and parsley, and I shall also have 
 cabbage, turnips and other things. In the winter I shall sit 
 in my room and study, so that I may preach to the peasants 
 out of the Sermones parati or the Disdpuli, and also out of the 
 Bible, and in this wise I shall be well fixed for preaching. And 
 in summer I shall go fishing, or work in the garden, and take 
 no heed of wars; for I shall live for myself, read my prayers 
 and say mass, and have no care for those worldly affairs which 
 bring destruction to the soul. Farewell. Written at the 
 Roman curia. 
 
 JOHANNES BUTZBACH* 
 
 Johannes Butzbach, 1478-1526, is to be reckoned among the conserva- 
 tive humanists of the sixteenth century. The struggles of his earlier 
 career, related in part below, give evidence of his high appreciation of 
 the value of learning. This sentiment he never lost, and during the 
 years of his administration of the affairs of the abbey of Laach, from 1507 
 to his death, his constant effort was to infuse into the life of his com- 
 munity a zeal for study and intellectual improvement. His literary ac- 
 tivity centered upon the much debated question as to whether the read- 
 ing of classical authors was conducive or detrimental to Christian morals. 
 Butzbach, true to the traditions of Deventer, affirmed their utility, re- 
 garding their use as part of the preparation for the completer understand- 
 ing of the holy scriptures, whose true significance might only be inter- 
 preted by men of universal culture. Replying to the objection, so often 
 urged, that classical writings contained much that was contrary to Chris- 
 tian ethics, Butzbach founded his argument upon the saying of St. Basil, 
 that the literary worker, like the bee, should learn to appropriate only 
 the wholesome nectar and to reject the poisonous juices of the flowers 
 amidst which he labored. 
 
 *The following selections are from the Hodoporicon or L,ittle Book of 
 Wandering. The sole manuscript of this autobiographical work of Butz- 
 bach is in possession of the library of the University of Bonn.
 
 200 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 Book i. Chapter 8. 
 
 In the earlier chapters Butzbach relates the story of his infancy and 
 primary education. His career in the school of his native town was 
 brought to an untimely close by repeated acts of truancy, resulting in a 
 cruel chastisement at the hands of the master. About this time a neigh- 
 bor's son, himself a wandering student, happened to be visiting at home, 
 and offered to take the young Johannes under his protection and make a 
 scholar of him. The parents, who resented Johannes 1 cruel treatment at 
 the village master's hands, consented, and /ohannes set forth with a slen- 
 der store of money and a large equipment of blessings and hope. 
 
 Robbed of my parents and homeless, a living image of grief 
 and sorrow, sobbing and crying aloud ceaselessly, I followed 
 with hesitating steps the student striding on before. If I failed 
 at any time to come to his bidding, he became ever freer with 
 his harsh words and bitter reproaches as the way lengthened 
 that seperated us from home. In this way he wounded still 
 more my lacerated spirit. Indeed, he was by nature of un- 
 usual harshness; and the less cause he had to fear my escape, 
 on account of the growing distance from home and my increas- 
 ing ignorance of the way, the more he sought to hold me in 
 check with fear and at the same time to spur me on with 
 threats. After a march of two good miles, which indeed was 
 no trifle, as they say, especially as in this instance they sepa- 
 rated two creatures inspired with mutual love, we came from 
 Miltenberg at nightfall to the village of Kiilsheim, already men- 
 tioned. Wearily I followed the student into the best inn that 
 the place afforded. 
 
 Chapter o. 
 
 As we entered the door of the inn, the landlord came forward 
 to meet us, and very prudently inquired from what country we 
 were come, whither we were bound and what might be our 
 wish. The student gave him little satisfaction, but asked him 
 if he could accommodate us. To this the landlord replied: "If 
 your money is good, and you are good drinkers, you will be 
 welcome guests." The student rejoined: "The money is all 
 right. Just have the table prepared and an abundance to eat 
 and drink set forth." "You talk well," replied the landlord,
 
 JOHANNES BUTZBACH. 2OI 
 
 "and I will do with pleasure what you ask. I wish, however, 
 that there were more of you; for. hoping that guests would ar- 
 rive, I have prepared a more than usually sumptuous meal for 
 this evening." When the student heard this he exclaimed: 
 " That is a piece of good fortune, that you have prepared such 
 abundant refreshment. I have here several relatives, with 
 whom I shall be glad to pass a merry evening once more before 
 my departure ; and since they are in service and not well-to-do, 
 I will pay the whole reckoning, and you may rest easy on that 
 score." " A bargain !" cried the landlord. " I will have them 
 summoned at once." 
 
 The guests did not keep us waiting, but set themselves to the 
 table and showed themselves valiant trenchermen. The student 
 took no heed of what might become of his poor little companion. 
 When the landlord inquired: " Where is the young fellow that 
 came with you?" the student looked about him and replied; 
 " I think he must have gone to sleep there behind the stove, 
 tired out with the journey. Let him sleep and rest out. Sleep 
 will do him more good than food." 
 
 Chapter 10. 
 
 I was not asleep, however, as he said; but I dared not ex- 
 press the feelings his words aroused. During the day, occupied 
 with preparations for the journey, I had eaten very little, nor 
 had I desired to eat. Now I was hungry, but I dared not come 
 to the table without an invitation from the student. At the 
 same time the gnawing in my stomach and the pangs of hunger 
 let me neither sleep nor rest. I pretended to sleep, however, 
 and surrendered myself patiently to niy fate, picturing to my- 
 self my wretched and abandoned condition. When the meal 
 was over, the student paid the reckoning for all the guests out 
 of my money, just as though it had been his own. What could 
 I say ? What had I the courage to do or think under the cir- 
 cumstances ? He regarded me as something delivered over to 
 him, sold to him, indeed, or as some estray that he had picked 
 up and made his property. 
 
 Early in the morning we got under way and came to the 
 town of Bishofsheim, two miles distant. There we took a bite
 
 202 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 and wandered on our way to Windsheim, an imperial city. As 
 we entered the town I was lost in admiration of the massive 
 walls, the houses high as the heavens, and the churches and 
 towers, the like of which I had never seen in our native town 
 or elsewhere. 
 
 On the following day we journeyed further and came to the 
 city of Longenzenn. Here we were affectionately received by 
 a citizen of the town, a weaver, who not long before had 
 worked for several years with my father. By him we were en- 
 tertained and otherwise hospitably treated. We conveyed to 
 him the heartfelt greetings of our parents, as they had urgently 
 requested. He consoled me for the separation from my parents- 
 as if I had been his own child, and succeeded in quieting my 
 grief. He never tired of cheering my saddened spirit with 
 friendly conversation; nor did he cease to sooth my wounded 
 heart with gentle words, and cleverly cited as an example the 
 fact that he, and my father as well, and many other persons, 
 both of the worldly and of the spiritual order, of whom I knew, 
 had been obliged to endure much in foreign countries, in order 
 to learn something. The next morning, refreshed and consoled, 
 he set me upon my way, once more urgently commending me 
 to the student's care. Thence I wandered on with my little 
 pack, along the hard and weary and unknown way, trotting 
 ever along behind the student, to Nuremberg, a famous seat of 
 trade and industry. 
 
 Chapter //. 
 
 When at last I saw from the distance the towers and the 
 blue smoke of Nuremberg, it almost seemed to me that I was 
 looking, not at a single city, but at a whole world. I thought 
 we had only a mile to go; but when we inquired of some people 
 whom we met on the road how far it was, they replied that it 
 was still three miles. It was not so much the distance as our 
 impatient desire to reach the city, whose image lay before us on 
 the horizon, that made the way so unwelcome. In order to 
 while away the time, the student related some incidents tend- 
 ing to exalt his individual prowess. A song or a story gener- 
 ally causes the wanderer to -forget the tedium of the way.
 
 JOHANNES BUTZBACH. 203 
 
 When toward evening we finally approached the city, we halted 
 a little while under the walls, to prepare us for our entrance 
 into the town. The student sought to spoil my expectations 
 with his witticisms: " Since you have never been here before,'* 
 he said among other things, "it will be necessary to sew up 
 your mouth." When the tears rose in my eyes at this remark, 
 he added: " Now follow me close behind and do not keep look- 
 ing to this side and to that; and do not gape at the house-tops 
 with open mouth. And look out that I do not have to wait for 
 you ever now and then in the street, on account of your ever- 
 lasting slowness, or when we come to the inn you will get a 
 good thrashing." 
 
 So I slunk into the city all of a tremble, exhausted with the 
 effort of keeping up with my companion. With very tired and 
 bruised feet I followed the student through many streets paved 
 with sharp stones, while from all sides crowds of school boys 
 fell upon me. Because I gave no answer to their shout: " Are 
 you a student?" they held their hands to their foreheads, 
 stretched out like asses' ears, and followed me in this manner 
 all the way to the inn. When they learned, however, that we 
 intended to stop in the city, they ceased from further persecu- 
 tions and began extolling with fulsome praises their school 
 above all other schools in the land. 
 
 (Here follow various adventures of travel). 
 Chapter 16. 
 
 When we arrived at a village, he sent me on to beg, and 
 waited for me at the further end of the place. If I came back 
 with empty hands, he beat me furiously and cried: " Aha ! by 
 Heavens, I will teach you to beg yet !" If, however, I had 
 succeeded in getting something choice, he devoured it at once,, 
 and I got only what remained. So it went on the whole time 
 that I stayed with him. Indeed, he was so suspicious that he 
 often forced me to rinse my mouth with water and spit it out,, 
 that he might see if I had perhaps appropriated something good 
 from my begging; for it often happened that kindly women,, 
 moved by my modesty and my delicate youth, took me from the 
 street into their houses, and when they had listened to the
 
 204 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 story of my misery and of my sad parting from my parents, 
 they were moved with pity and gave me as rich refreshment as 
 their own children enjoyed. This dissatisfied the student 
 greatly, on account of his envious nature, and as often as it 
 came to his knowledge that such a piece of fortune had hap- 
 pened to me in his absence, he fell upon me with fist and stick. 
 
 Chapter 77. 
 
 He compelled me to beg through places so foul and muddy, 
 that I was obliged to wade up to my ankles, sometimes up to 
 my knees in mud, and like one who treads dough, could go 
 neither forward nor backward. Sometimes I was attacked so 
 savagely by watch-dogs that I believe, if the inhabitants had not 
 come to my rescue, I should have been torn to pieces. The 
 student himself had a great dislike for begging and did not 
 practice it, recognizing that he would be laughed at by the 
 peasant people as a great, lazy rascal, and he did not care to soil 
 himself with the mud, which he knew was very deep in these 
 places during the rainy weather. Moreover, in order not to be 
 bothered by the dogs, it was his habit to go around the villages 
 through the fields and meadows, a thing which he could not 
 permit me to do, by reason of my begging. This custom he 
 adopted on the other side of Nuremberg, and held rigidly to it 
 until we came nearly to the town of Kaaden in Bohemia, and 
 afterwards during the whole of the remaining time that I was 
 with him on the journey. 
 
 In Kaaden we were invited by the rector of the school to take 
 up our residence, and received one room for us both in the 
 bursary. Shortly thereafter came two wandering students from 
 Vienna with their schiitzen, and were shown into quarters with 
 us during the day, or at least what was left of the day, after 
 the public lesson, the chorus and the begging. I stayed in our 
 cell, but during the night we young schutzen, as many as there 
 were of us, used to remain in the common room, on account of 
 the cold, and sleep on a wooden platform over the stove. Once 
 I fell off the platform, and although I did quite as much injury 
 to my head as to the stove, nevertheless I was thought to de- 
 serve a severe censure on account of the damage I was guilty of.
 
 JOHANNES BUTZBACH. 205 
 
 Chapter 24.. 
 
 ( After further adventures in Bohemia they came to Eger, where they 
 secured positions in the houses of certain wealthy citizens, acting as tutors 
 and companions to the sons of these citizens, and receiving board and 
 lodging in return). 
 
 The student was overjoyed at his unexpected good fortune. 
 My own, however, which seemed to him even better, aroused 
 his envy and anger. " It is not becoming, ' ' he said ' ' that a 
 schiitze like you should be so quickly promoted among strangers, 
 and see better times than I myself;" and since he had no longer 
 any need, on account of his new position, of my services in beg- 
 ging, he handed me over to two other big students, for whom 
 I was to forage during the winter. I complained of this to the 
 lad who had been entrusted to me, and he told his parents, 
 whereupon they advised me to come home with their son im- 
 mediately after school and let the others go. After I had done 
 this a few times, against the commands of the student, he 
 caught me one day as we were coming from school and to- 
 gether with his companions dragged me to their quarters, where 
 they tore the clothes from my body, beat me for a long time 
 with rods upon my naked skin, and then left me tied in the 
 room in the severe cold until the next day. Next morning he 
 asked me if I was disposed to attend to my duties with the 
 students, and I made haste to answer that I was. Then he un- 
 bound me, turned me over to his companions with threats and 
 curses, and went his way to his dwelling. 
 
 Chapter 25. 
 
 Thus was my lad obliged to go to school alone that morning. 
 When he learned what had happened to me, he hastened to ac- 
 quaint his parents with the facts. The following evening, 
 when we had returned from school, I related to them, at their 
 request, all that had taken place, and they were much moved 
 with compassion for me. They ordered me to remain in the 
 house, to await whatever might occur. The student, however, 
 when he became aware, both from complaints of his fellow- 
 students, to whom he had sold me, and from my absence as well, 
 of what had transpired, fell into a great rage, and came the fol-
 
 206 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 lowing morning to our house, together with a great company 
 of students and schutzen. They succeeded in making their way 
 up to the upper story, where we were, when the father op- 
 posed them with weapons in his hands, let drive at them pro- 
 miscuously, and drove them out of the house and court-yard, 
 calling after them that they should not presume again to enter 
 there. 
 
 But alas for me ! After this occurrence I knew not which 
 way to turn. I had the courage neither to go to school nor 
 even to run an errand out of doors, because my students sent 
 me word that they would tear me to pieces, if they could catch 
 me anywhere. Out of fear I gave up school, fled secretly from 
 the city and betook me to the baths.* There I served the 
 guests at an inn until the new year, when I was kidnaped by 
 a Bohemian noble. 
 
 Thus was I forced, through the cruelty of my student, to give 
 up school and the study of the sciences, since. I could no longer 
 endure his godless treatment of me; I, who had been so urg- 
 ently recommended to him by my parents. Neither of us has 
 met the other face to face since that time, nor have I ever 
 learned what became of him. At the baths, however, I came 
 across two schutzen, who formerly had shared my room in the 
 bursa at Kaaden, and they related that their students had been 
 hanged for theft, committed at some place or other. Then the 
 thought came to me, that something of the kind might have 
 happened to mine. If this ever came to pass at a later time 
 which indeed I should not wish to happen at least it was not 
 necessary that he should have degenerated, for his father came 
 to the gallows at home on account of theft. In the meantime 
 I have heard, that after my departure he came once into the 
 neighborhood of our native place, but did not enter the town, 
 both on account of his shame, because his father had been 
 hanged, and because he had lost me. His friends, to whom he 
 contrived to send word secretly, went out to him, and with 
 them my people, who had learned of his coming. When he 
 was unable to answer their pressing inquiries as to where he 
 
 *Carlsbad.
 
 JOHANNES BUTZBACH. 207 
 
 had left me, and became involved in even greater contradictions, 
 he took the first opportunity of getting away from them, and 
 from that day to this he has never shown himself at our home. 
 Behold, you have before you all the misery to which I was 
 exposed from my seventh to my twelfth year under the school- 
 master's rod, and you have seen what fidelity that wretched 
 student, after all the careful recommendations of my parents, 
 exhibited toward me in the midst of strangers. May the al- 
 mighty God forgive him for that which he has done. Amen. 
 
 ( The second Book of Butzbach's narrative contains an account of his 
 adventures among the heretics of Bohemia, during which his school ex- 
 periences were wholly interrupted. He succeeded finally in returning 
 home, where he found opportunity of resuming his studies under more 
 favorable conditions. 
 
 Book III. Chapter 8. 
 
 While occupied with the duties and exercises of a lay 
 brother,* my inclination toward the higher functions of the 
 brethren grew apace, and I deeply bewailed my misfortune, 
 that I had been obliged to give up my studies. This did not 
 escape the attention of the younger brethren, who had but re- 
 cently come from the schools, and they secretly advised me to 
 betake myself to Deventer. There was in our convent an elderly 
 monk, Peter Schlarp by name, a very diligent and learned man, 
 who gave me a letter of introduction to the rector of the high 
 school at Deventer, Alexander Hegius. 
 
 Fortified with this letter I set out, although the abbot inter- 
 posed some objections, and expressed himself as having no con- 
 fidence in my success. In the preliminary examinations I was 
 unable to answer the questions put to me, but because they 
 were so astonished at the good and correct Latin of my letter 
 of introduction I was put into the seventh grade, where I set 
 out to master the rudiments of grammar, along with the little 
 boys. But through want, hunger and cold I came into such 
 distress that I was obliged again to give up the studies I had 
 
 * Butzbach had been accepted as lay brother in the monastery of St. 
 John the Baptist at Johannisberp.
 
 208 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 undertaken. With a few comrades, upon whose advice I acted ^ 
 
 I left the place. Two noble lords, Johann G , who after wards 
 
 died of the pest, and his brother Frederick, who is still living, 
 interceded for me, and I was taken back into the cloister, al- 
 though previous to this I had laid aside the garb and entered 
 the cloister of Eberbach, unmindful of the commands of the 
 abbot to return. This cloister is said to have been founded by 
 St. Bernard at the time when he was in that region as imperial 
 legate. Thus I received a second time the habit of the order, 
 and a further departure, or a continuation of my studies, was 
 no more to be thought of. 
 
 In a quiet way I had about reconciled myself to remaining 
 here forever, when it happened one day that I had occasion to 
 accompany the abbot to Frankfort. Here we encountered my 
 mother. She had heard that I was already a " Lollard, " had 
 sought me in the cloister and had followed us with a heart full 
 of sorrow. The whole day she interceded with the abbot, pray* 
 ing that she might be permitted to send me once more to school. 
 But the abbot was not to be moved with the most urgent en^ 
 treaty. When my mother saw that she could accomplish noth- 
 ing in this way, she gave me money secretly and made me 
 promise that upon our return I should leave the cloister, even 
 against the abbot's will. 
 
 Chapter g. 
 
 We returned to our cloister. I had not the courage to beg for 
 permission to go forth. Already I was thoroughly reconciled 
 to remaining in my humble condition. Then it happened that 
 the abbot, disturbed in his heart by the woman's entreaty, came 
 of his own accord to me. He spoke to me kindly, and said that 
 I might undertake that which according to my knowledge and 
 conscience seemed the better thing to do. All abashed at his 
 graciousness, I confessed my fervent love for the sciences, and 
 the desire, which had always animated my soul, to attain to. 
 the higher grades of the order. 
 
 Then the abbot said: "Go hence in the name of the I^ord 
 and remain ever steadfast in thy good resolve. Thy mother's 
 wish shall be fulfilled. Go with zeal and endurance to thy
 
 JOHANNES BUTZBACH. 2Og 
 
 studies and complete them; then come hither and the order 
 will be open to thee." 
 
 So for the third time I left the cloister and betook myself to 
 my native town. I was a welcome guest with all my acquaint- 
 ances; and when the people heard that I was going once more 
 to school, there were certain masters who applauded my resolve 
 and wished me luck. Others, on the contrary, thought I was 
 too oM and laughed at me. But my father expressed no little 
 joy at the prospect, and gave me at once the money for the 
 journey. Five guilders he gave me. Moreover he knew that 
 my mother had still a very beautiful piece of money, which she 
 had received from Hillig when he became engaged to her, and 
 he urgently demanded I should have that too. But my mother 
 was unwilling to give it up, and it tended, without my father's 
 knowledge, to give me another guilder in its place. Thereupon 
 a serious quarrel ensued between them, the result of which was 
 that my mother was soundly beaten and her hair severely 
 pulled. When I saw that, I threw down my pack and the rest 
 of my money, and with my brothers and sisters rushed to my' 
 mother's aid, against my father. I succeeded in dragging her 
 from under his feet. Weeping bitterly, I left the house, and 
 reg'stered with myself a vow that after such occurrences, I 
 would never again set foot in any school, nor would I even go 
 back to the cloister. Meanwhile my father's anger had sub- 
 sided, and when he came back once more to his senses, unable 
 to endure the stings of conscience, he ran through the village 
 in search of me. When at last he found me, he begged me in the 
 agony of his spirit, not to abandon my design. I might for- 
 give him his offence, since he had done wrong through his 
 effort to further my plans. I should be reconciled and go on 
 with my undertaking, which had given him so much pleasure. 
 Thereupon he handed me the guilder obtained with so many 
 blows, and I accepted it for the sake of peace, meaning secretly 
 to return it to my mother at a later opportunity, when she ac- 
 companied me to the boat. 
 
 Finally, I tore myself away. Our boat sailed down the Main 
 and onwards down the Rhine. We changed masters both at 
 Mainz and Cologne. Unusually favorable winds filled our sails,
 
 210 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 and after nine days we landed at Deventer. Again I was ex- 
 amined by the rector, and put into the eighth grade. There I 
 sat beside six other grown-up schoolmates, who in conse- 
 quence of an insurrection had taken to study through fear; be- 
 cause a few days before our arrival a mob of seven thousand 
 insurgents, who held a city in siege, had been overwhelmed by 
 the Bishop of Maestricht and the Duke of Gueldres. A hun- 
 dred of them had been condemned to death. These were exe- 
 cuted on the day of my arrival and on the two days preceding, 
 and I saw them still lying on the wheels. Of these schoolmates 
 just mentioned, who entered upon their studies more out of 
 fear than from any thirst for knowledge, only a few were stead- 
 fast. For the most part they were too slow of understanding 
 and made no progress, while I strove night and day by diligent 
 application to acquire a better degree of information. 
 
 Chapter 10. 
 
 It was not long before my classmates were dismissed. One 
 of them, however, sat for four years in the same grade and 
 scarcely learned to read, notwithstanding he dwelt with the 
 teacher of his class, and had gone to considerable expense; but 
 with no result. For my part, I had been in the eighth grade 
 but a short time when I was permitted to pass over the seventh 
 and to enter the sixth grade, and from this I came at Easter 
 into the fifth. At that time I secured a place with the Brethren 
 in the relief house, where only those from the fifth grade up- 
 ward were received, and then only on condition that they in- 
 tended to become monks. Moreover I was free to visit the 
 house of a canon in the town, who was also provost at Ziitphen, 
 when I was in need; for before my entrance into the brother- 
 hood house, while I dwelt in the city at the house of a very 
 pious maiden lady, I had the opportunity, on several occasions, 
 to be of service to the canon, by lending a helping hand to his 
 sewing-people,* and on one occasion to the chief of his house- 
 hold. In addition to this I had made several other acquaint- 
 
 * After his return from Bohemia, Butzbach had been apprenticed to a 
 tailor.
 
 JOHANNES BTJTZBACH. 21 1 
 
 ances, who were favorably disposed toward me, and in time of 
 need and suffering gave me much aid and comfort. 
 
 During this time I had to struggle against many and various 
 difficulties in the way of ill-health and sickness; so that at 
 times, in spite of all my eagerness for knowledge, I was half 
 persuaded to give up the attempt. It seemed to me that never 
 before, up to this time, had I been obliged to contend with such 
 an insalubrious climate and such a raw atmosphere as in this 
 place, whereby I was persecuted day by day with all kinds of 
 torments and sickness, so continuously that I began to think 
 seriously of hanging my studies on the nail and takicg up again 
 my old trade, if only to get away from this region and from its 
 inhabitants. Now it was burning fevers, now tumorous affec- 
 tions, which threatened my life. Next came the quinsy, com- 
 plicated with a swelling of the larynx; then the itch, and indeed 
 in so horrible a form that my whole skin was stiff from it. In 
 addition to this I often suffered from boils on various portions 
 of my body. Then too I had a swelling of the feet, and often 
 for considerable periods a swelling of the thigh. Finally I got 
 help from a woman who possessed a knowledge of the art of 
 healing. With an iron instrument she cut out the swelling 
 from my thigh, which she called a "rose." I was almost 
 crazed with the pain of the operation. Moreover I lived in 
 constant fear lest some misfortune, of which they at home were 
 also fearful, should overtake me. Almost never did I feel my- 
 self secure, and when, as it often happens, the outbreak of a 
 war was apprehended, I feared lest I should be obliged to re- 
 turn home before the completion of my studies, still ignorant of 
 the sciences, an object of ridicule to those who were of the 
 opinion I would derive no benefit from my studies, and who, 
 when I went seriously about it, looked upon me as insane. 
 Moreover, it was daily rumored that the pest was at hand. At 
 the outbreak of the pest or of war it was the custom to send 
 scholars out of the town. Furthermore, I suffered much from 
 an itching malady, called " fig- warts," which covered the body 
 like the bark of an oak tree. Moreover, I was constantly 
 pestered with many other untoward conditions, with which the 
 enemy, with divine permission, overwhelmed me, in order to
 
 212 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 bring me from my undertaking, if such were possible. Strength- 
 ened, however, with the instructions of the pious Brethren of 
 the Common Life, who interested themselves in the affairs of 
 scholars with so much affection and with so much success; for- 
 tified also with the consolations of pious people, I overcame, 
 thank God, all these tribulations with patience, and put to 
 shame the treacherous enemy with all his machinations. 
 
 Chapter //. 
 
 Now that all these sufferings have been lived down, I dwell 
 upon them in my thoughts with much pleasure, becaus I be- 
 lieve that they were all sent me for the purification and ad- 
 vancement of my s ul. Five times, however, it happened, that 
 at the instigation of others I was on the point of giving up my 
 studies and returning home. It even went so far at oi;e time- 
 it was a year after my arrival and I was then Quintanus that 
 one morning I made my preparations to depart in company with 
 certain comrades. Suddenly, on the evening of the same day, 
 the swelling of my feet and the abscess, of which I have spoken, 
 attacked me. A journey under the circumstances was out of the 
 question. I remained and was promoted to the fourth grade. 
 Now I thank God for this dispensation. Had I departed at 
 that time no one wou'd have been able ever to induce me to re- 
 turn to so much misery. 
 
 Two reasons in particular ma}' be adduced, which determined 
 me to hold out and bound me fast to the sciences: my father's 
 desire, while he was still living; and the prophecy, if I may 
 call it so, of certain persons, that I should some time become a 
 priest. The former was expressed at home; the latter at 
 Johannisberg, while I was there as lay brother and cloister 
 tailor; for on a certain occasion, while I was sitting at my woik 
 and engaged in confidential discourse vith an elderly and in- 
 valid father, for whose care and service I was dai y responsib'e; 
 and while I was telling him how greatly to ni}' sorrow I had 
 been obliged, as a lad, to give up my studies while, as I say, 
 I was telling my story and lamenting that nothing had c^tne 
 out of my earlier studies and my desire to become a priesl, a 
 certain piece of round bread, which we call the host, and which
 
 JOHA.NNBS BUTZBACH. 213 
 
 I had fastened to the wall over against my work-table, out of 
 devotional feeling and from a desire to guard against the temp- 
 tatio s to which the vigorous period of youth is especially sub- 
 ject, and also to have a remembrance of the sufferings of our 
 Lord always before my eyes, this piece of bread, I say, to our 
 great amazement, detached itself from the wall and fell to the 
 floor. As the old man, who with shaking head sat behind the 
 stove, perctived this, he stood up, in spite of the senile weak- 
 ness which weighed so heavily upon him, and in a loud voice 
 exclaimed: " See, Brother Johannes ! This is without doubt a 
 sign to thee of thy future priesthood ! Thou shalt no longer 
 doubt; but of a truth believe, that, when thou givest thyself 
 again to study, this thing which has just happened shall have 
 the meaning I have ascribed to it." 
 
 He also foretold the day and the hour of his death, and even 
 after he was dead the brethren called him back to life, to make 
 his confession. 
 
 His word I never forgot. A year passed before I again gave 
 myself to study, and with my parents' help returned to school, 
 and with God's grace and with the help of the blessed Virgin 
 Mary, within four years according to the prophecy I became 
 monk and priest. Now may this benefaction of God redound 
 to the salvation of my soul, unworthy that I am, and the souls 
 of my people, and to the glory of God ! That is my most 
 urgent wish. 
 
 Chapter 12. 
 
 The same was once said to my mother by a priest, a very 
 worthy man and pastor in the town of Aschaffenburg, where 
 once upon a time he brought me a chasuble to be repaired and 
 heard the deep sigh I uttered to God, as I tried it on and said: 
 " Would that I too could be a priest." Furthermore, my con- 
 tinuance at study was largely due to my late father's desire, 
 who, living and dying, had expressed this as his especial wish. 
 For this reason, during his life, be sent me to school, and on 
 his deathbed he impressed this strongly upon my mother's 
 mind. After his death, when I had given up the tailor's trade 
 and was taking counsel with our friends, in reference to going
 
 214 SOURCE-BOOK OP THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 back to school, the following occurred: One morning, as my 
 brother Kuiiz and I arose and were dressing, my father's spirit, 
 just as he was in life, appeared in front of our room, remained 
 standing a little time in the open doorway, and looked at me in 
 an appealing wa)', as though he would say to me that I should 
 carry out my plan, which had been for so long his dearest wish 
 without fear of hesitation. More than anything else was this 
 occurrence a spur to my zeal and it impelled me to persevere in 
 iny studies. If, indeed, I had been in some respects too little 
 obedient to my father in his lifetime, now I desired to make 
 amends, since he so earnestly desired that I should be a priest. 
 God grant that now, when I am one, it may contribute to the 
 repose of his soul ! 
 
 After this digression I shall now take up the thread of my 
 narrative, and I wish to occupy some little space with the praise 
 of Deventer itself, where I endured all the privations which I 
 have mentioned. 
 
 The people are wonderfully kind toward the poor, to an ex- 
 tent which I have observed nowhere else; and pious withal and 
 much attached to religion. At the same time the town, by 
 reason of its extensive trade with countries across the sea and 
 with Holland and Zealand, is extraordinarily wealthy. May I 
 be set down as a falsifier, if I have not known a citizen of the 
 place, a great benefactor toward me aud toward other poor peo- 
 ple, who gave his daughter, upon the occasion of her marriage, 
 a dowry of seventeen thousand guilders in hard cash. This 
 same citizen's wife was also a very upright woman and won- 
 derfully charitable toward the poor and toward strangers. No 
 day passed that 5he did not invite some six or seven needy 
 clergymen to her well-furnished table, not to speak of the alms 
 which she was constantly giving to other poor men at her door. 
 The kindness which this estimable woman showed me at the 
 time of my sickness and need was truly remarkable, whether 
 it be in the way of food, clothing and money, or with her cheer- 
 ing conversation. She and her family truly deserve to be rich, 
 for they are not, as is the case with so many rich people, proud 
 or miserly, nor do they place their trust upon the volume of 
 their riches, but, gentle, generous and pitiful toward the prayers
 
 JOHANNES BUTZBAGH. 215 
 
 of the poor, they set their hopes upon God. And this noble 
 city has many more such God-fearing people. 
 
 In addition to this it possesses an excellent constitution and 
 a well-regulated government. Alexander Hegius, formerly di- 
 rector of the high school at Deventer, has sung the praises of 
 the city in the following brief verses, which are moreover his 
 latest composition: 
 
 " Of the piety of Deventer 
 Through the town the rumor goes. 
 I esteem it worth the riches 
 Which there everywhere abound. 
 There the peasant is protected, 
 And the robber feels the law. 
 There each man receives what bounty, 
 Horse or foot, to him is due. 
 Ever full may stand the treasure, 
 Never touched by faction's hand. 
 Thus we pray, both youth and elder, 
 Night and day for native land. 
 
 As its patron saint the city reverences the holy confessor 
 Leivin, once a monk of our order, and a pupil of St. Willibrod. 
 In his honor was built a beautiful church, wherein his bones, 
 together with those of certain other saints, as for example St. 
 Margaret, whose remains were brought from Rome, and St. 
 Rathbod, bishop of Maestricht, and many others, have been 
 decently laid to rest in a costly chest. The holy Leivin came 
 from England, and was the first who won this land to the 
 Christian faith. He dwelt on the Yssel, a tributary of the 
 Rhine, and even at the present day his house is shown by peo- 
 ple dwelling in that neighborhood; although in truth, its ap- 
 pearance has much changed. 
 
 Besides the markets which are held at Deventer at various 
 times of the year, the city has another advantage, whereby it 
 has become famous, and rightfully so, far and wide, beyond all 
 other cities of this region. This is due to its Latin school, re- 
 nowned for a long time past, which, under the supervision of 
 men of culture and ability, for a long time enjoyed great pros- 
 perity on account of its cultivation of the humanities. After
 
 2l6 SOURCE- BOOK OP THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 the death of Alexander Hegius, of whom I have spoken above, 
 .a man of the profoundest learning, versed in three languages, 
 ;and withal a philosopher and poet, who died in the 5 T ear of our 
 Lord 1498, the first year of my student life in Deventer since 
 that time (with sorrow I chronicle the fact), the school has de- 
 clined greatly, as reports from there inform me. 
 
 That was indeed a man worthy of all praise, as in fact he has 
 been so deservedly extolled, both living and since his death, by 
 many distinguished men. Like a brilliant light he shone above 
 the people through his uprightness, his comprehensive knowl- 
 edge and his great gifts, superior to all his learned contem- 
 poraries. His former pupil, the illustrious Desiderius Erasmus, 
 in his Adages, pays high tribute to the great teacher. The ac- 
 complished Rudolph Agricola, in his time rector of the Uni- 
 versity of Heidelberg, and Johann von Dalberg, the cultured 
 bishop of Worms, celebrated his brilliant gifts.* 
 
 Chapter /j. 
 
 The school at Deventer has been of great value to the re- 
 formed orders, insomuch as it has supplied them with many 
 educated and scholarly men. So long as the school preserved 
 its merited reputation, by means of good, thorough instruction 
 and fundamental erudition, its graduates were everywhere 
 eagerly sought. At that time you might see the better-pre- 
 pared scholars and those best grounded in the humanities 
 streaming into the orders at Deventer and at Zwoll; and they 
 were superior material to that which I now find in the first and 
 second classes; although at present they read, it is true, a better 
 selection of authors ia the schools than formerly. For I have 
 heard it remarked, that outside of the Parables of Alanus, the 
 Morals and the Ethics of Cato, the Fables of ^Esop and a few 
 writers of this type, for whom they have very little respect at 
 present, it was seldom that anything else was read. On the 
 other hand, a strong effort was made to broaden the studet t's 
 mind by means of an inflexible industry, which yielded not to 
 the greatest difficulties. Now, however, when all secondary 
 
 * Here follow selections from the poems of eminent humanists, written 
 in honor of Hegius.
 
 JOHANNES BUTZBACH. 2iy 
 
 schools, even the least important, are filled with the various 
 admirable works of old and new classical writers, both prose 
 and poetry, the ardor is nevertheless weakened, and students 
 for the most part apply themselves to their work like the donkey 
 to his lyre, as the Greeks say, 6v f n Ps x^-wy- All-devouring 
 time permits nothing to endure. Hence the phenomenon that 
 the orders began to decline as the school approached its down- 
 ward path. Still, since the reformation of the orders, which is 
 not yet a hundred years old in any cloister, they say that many 
 men of intellect have been sent forth from this school, who 
 have been received and provided for in the various cloisters of 
 this section of Germany. 
 
 But it is time to return to my previous narrative. I must 
 close with what I have already said of Deventer; moreover, 
 these things are well known to those who have devoted them 
 selves to the various branches of learning, and have laid the 
 foundations of a wider culture. Many such with joy I chron- 
 icle the fact share with me here the holy service and bear the 
 yoke of the Lord. Some have returned to the w r orld's turmoil. 
 But this digression, into v\hich my love and my enthusiasm for 
 the times gone by have led me, has been more extensive than 
 I intended. Let us finally resume the course of our narrative. 
 
 Chapter 14, 
 
 I remained a half-year in the fifth class, under the guidance 
 of an excellent man, Master Gottfried, a Baccalaureus of both 
 laws and Master of Arts. After an examination I rose to the 
 fourth class, where I passed a year under the industrious and 
 well-instructed Master Johann von Venray, and with his per- 
 mission, although I hardly deserved it, I came into the third 
 class. This dass was at that time under the charge of Master 
 Bartholomew of Cologne, an unusually industrious and learned 
 man. His waitings, as well in prose as in verse, are admired 
 by the greatest scholars and most highly praised ; for he is a 
 man of fine, broad mind, and of wonderful eloquence, and 
 withal distinguished in many branches of knowledge. It 
 seemed very strange to everybody that a man of his ability, 
 versed in all departments of science, should keep to his studies,
 
 2l8 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 like a perfect ignoramus, with tireless industry deep into the 
 night. He was fond of industrious pupils and very cheerfully 
 did for them what they desired; wherefore the energetic and 
 zealous pupils, so far as I know, regarded him with so much 
 love that, after they had devoted themselves to philosophic 
 studies for several years in succession under so good a master 
 and reader, and finally came to go away, they could hardly 
 tear themselves from him. Although he indeed deserved it, 
 yet he had never been honored by any university with the 
 master's degree. For this reason he is at the present day a 
 thorn in the side of many blockheads, who are proud of their 
 empty titles, and his works have been criticised and unfavor- 
 ably regarded as mere school exercises. In the meantime, as 
 a true and genuine philosopher, he concerns himself not at all 
 with such people, whose science consists merely in an empty 
 title and certain externals, like a camel decked in purple. It 
 is indeed better to possess the reality of knowledge than an 
 empty name. What is a name without the thing itself? Of 
 what avail are titles without ability ? What avails an honor 
 without the capacity ? A characterization without the fact ? 
 Nowadays when any one, even without industry, has gone 
 through his period of study, whether he knows anything of the 
 essentials or not, it is an easy thing for him, by means of a 
 present, to acquire the bachelor's degree, or the dignity of 
 master or doctor. Our teacher Bartholomew for his part held 
 to the ideas of the ancients; he despised every modern usage, 
 and valued an earnest career of study more than empty splen- 
 dor. A cultured spirit was to him more than a brow bedecked. 
 What value has the red beretta, when within the spirit is 
 shrouded in the darkness of ignorance ? In any case knowl- 
 edge without the title is more to be valued than the mere title, 
 in which so many rejoice, without the knowledge. But of this 
 I have more to say elsewhere. 
 
 When, as I have already remarked, I came to this highly 
 cultivated philosopher in the third class, I made up my mind 
 to remain until Easter, when I would go home and thence, 
 with my parents' permission, back to Johannesberg in the 
 Rheingau, whence I had gone forth, at my mother's urgent
 
 JOHANNES BUTZBACH. 219 
 
 request, and upon the encouragement of the brethren, to my 
 studies. I wished to see whether I might assume the higher 
 garb of our order, instead of that humbler garment, which I 
 had put aside, and be received into the circle of the fathers. 
 Scarcely had I been six weeks in the class, however, when it 
 happened that the worthy father steward of the island of Nied- 
 erwerth near Coblenz came to Deventer. Besides the other 
 business with which he was commissioned, he had been re- 
 quested by our distinguished lord, the Abbot of I,aach, to bring 
 with him several scholars, who were willing to serve the Lord 
 in that cloister, of which he had been already ten years the 
 head, under his secure guidance, in the monkish garb, accord- 
 ing to the rule. When he had presented his letters, addressed 
 to the rector, he also expressed his solicitude concerning this 
 matter in the house of the Brethren. Moreover in other towns 
 of this region, where his business took him, he made careful 
 inquiries in schools, bursaries and brotherhood houses, as well 
 as with private citizens; seeking young clerks, so-called, en- 
 dowed with a sufficient knowledge of the sciences, and disposed 
 to leave their further study for the sake of God's service, in 
 order to devote themselves to the life of the cloister and to the 
 investigation of holy writ. Something like three weeks elapsed, 
 and as yet he had found no one who wished to accept his offer. 
 Returning to Deventer, he considered it advisable to seek" the 
 cooperation of the rector, Master Ostendorp, who, as an elo- 
 quent and learned man, had succeeded the aforesaid Alexander 
 in the government of the school. Master Ostendorp came at 
 once to the third and fourth classes, and sought with eloquent 
 words, such as stood to his command, to awaken enthusiasm 
 among the scholars for the monastic life. First he spoke in 
 praise of the Benedictines, then he spoke in terms of highest 
 approbation of the abbey of Laach, as well as of the merit of its 
 abbot. But all effort seemed in vain, so far as the scholars 
 were concerned, for the lectures had already begun, and the 
 auditors were inscribed with their new instructors. In many 
 cases the lessons of the new classes had been begun, and the 
 honoraria already discharged to the new instructors for the 
 semester, and it was thought shameful and unbecoming to de-
 
 220 SOURCE-BOOK OP THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 mand these back from the rector and from the professors. 
 Moreover, each one had already made his provision for food 
 and lodging, and did not care to let these things go. Further- 
 more, it was an unsuitable time for traveling; a very great cold 
 prevailed, which frightened every one from the project. 
 (Butzbach, however after much deliberation, accepted the offer and 
 made the tedious winter journey up the Rhine to Laac/i t of which 
 abbey he eventually became the head.) 
 
 THOMAS PLATTER.* 
 
 Thomas Platter, 1499-1582, affords another example of the strong 
 general impulse toward intellectual advancement which characterizes the 
 eve of the Protestant Reformation in Germany. Born in Switzerland, in 
 the canton of Wallis, Platter obtained the rudiments of his education at 
 Schlettstadt, in the upper P hine country. Successively rope-maker, proof- 
 reader, publisher and finally chosen rector of the city school of Zurich, 
 Platter, like Butzbach, ever displayed an ardor in the pursuit of learning, 
 which no obstacles nor temporary interruptions of his course of study 
 were able to extinguish. Led away in childhood upon a course of men- 
 dicancy and thievery, he came unscathed through these adverse ex- 
 periences, retaining only an inflexible desire for that culture of which 
 his wanderings had afforded so meagre a foretaste. A follower of the 
 Zurich reformer, Platter took an active part in the struggles of the 
 Zwinglian party, became one of the leaders in Swiss Protestant life, and 
 died full of years and honors. 
 
 THE BACCHANTENSCHUTZ. 
 
 When they would no longer let me herd the goats I went to 
 a fanner who had married one of my cousins, a miserly and ill- 
 tempered man. I had to herd his cows, for in most places in 
 Wallis there were no common c^w-herds; and whoever had no 
 mountain pasture, whither he might conduct his cattle in sum- 
 mer, kept a herder for them, who pastured them on his em- 
 ployer's property. After I had been there for a while my 
 cousin Fransy came, and wished to take me to my cousin, 
 Master Antoni Platter, in order that I might learn my letters, 
 as they say, when they put anyone in school. This cousin 
 Antoni was no longer stationed at Grenchen, but at the church 
 of St. Nicholas, in the village they call Gassen. When the 
 
 * Thomas nnd Felix Platter, bearbeitet von H. Boos. Leipzig, 1878.
 
 THOMAS PLATTER. 221 
 
 farmer, who was called Antscho (that is Antoni) an der Hab- 
 zucht, heard my cousin's intention, lie was much dissatisfied. 
 He said I would learn nothing; and putting the index finger 
 of his right hand into the palm of his left, he added: " He will 
 no more learn than I can poke my finger through my palm." 
 I saw and heard this. Then my cousin replied: "But who 
 can say ? God has not denied him gifts. He might become an 
 excellent priest." So she took me to the master. I was, I 
 think, about nine or nine and a half years old. At first it was 
 very unpleasant for me, because the master was a high-tem- 
 pered man, and I an awkward peasant lad. He beat me sav- 
 agely, seized me often by the ears and drew me from the 
 hearth, so that I shrieked like a goat with the knife at his 
 throat, and the neighbors often cried out against him, that he 
 would murder me. 
 
 I did not stay long with him. About this time there came 
 along another cousin, who had been away to school in Ulm and 
 Munich and Bavaria. He was a Summermatter, son of my old 
 grandfather's son. This student was named Paulus Summer- 
 matter. When my relatives spoke to him of me, he promised 
 to take me with him and put me to school in Germany. As I 
 learned of this I fell upon my knees and prayed to God the Al- 
 mighty, that he would deliver me from the parson, who had 
 taught me just nothing at all, but had beat me sore; for all I 
 had learned was to sing the Salve for eggs, along with other 
 pupils, who were also at the parson's, in the village. One time 
 we thought we would perform a mass; so the other youngsters 
 sent me into the church for a candle, which I stuck all lighted 
 into my sleeve and burned me, so that I bear the mark of it to 
 this day. 
 
 When the time came for Paulus to set out again upon his 
 wanderings, I was to join him at Stalden. Near Stalden is a 
 house called "The Muhlbach." There dwelt a man, called 
 Simon zu der Summermatter, my mother's brother, who was 
 supposed to be my guardian. He gave me a golden florin, 
 which I carried in my hand all the way to Stalden, and often 
 on the way I looked to see if I still had it; and there I gave it 
 over to Paulus, and thus we went forth from home.
 
 222 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 I had to beg now for myself and also to provide for my 
 bacchant, Paulus; and on account of my simpleness and rustic 
 speech people gave me freely. When at evening we crossed the 
 Orimsel mountain and came to an inn, I saw there for the first 
 time an earthenware stove. The moon was shining on the tiles 
 of the stove and I thought it was a great calf, for I saw only 
 two tiles, and these I took for its eyes. Next morning I saw 
 some geese, which I had never seen before, and when they 
 hissed at me I thought it was the devil, and that he would eat 
 me up; and I fled screaming. At Lucerne I saw tiled roofs for 
 the first time, and I marvelled at the red roofs. We came thence 
 to Zurich, where Paulus waited for certain companions, who 
 were to journey with us toward Meissen. In the meantime I 
 went begging and completely provided Paulus' support, for 
 whenever I entered an inn the people were pleased to hear me 
 speak the dialect of Wallis and willingly gave to me. At that 
 time there was a certain man in Zurich, who came from Wallis 
 stock, an eccentric man, Karle by name, who was generally 
 thought to be an exorcist; for he knew at all times what was 
 going on here and there. He was well known to the Cardinal. 
 This Karle came to me (for we had taken lodgings at a certain 
 house), and said that if I would let him give me a certain num- 
 ber of stripes on my bare back, he would give me a Zurich piece 
 of six. I allowed myself to be persuaded, and he seized me 
 fast, laid me across a chair and lashed me well. When I was 
 done smarting he begged of me I should lend him the money 
 back again; he wished to sup with a lady, and was in need of a 
 piece of six to pay the bill. I gave him the money, and never 
 saw it again. 
 
 After we had waited from eight to nine weeks for our com- 
 panions, we set out for Meissen. For me it was a long journey, 
 for I was not accustomed to go so far, and moreover I had to 
 look out for our subsistence on the way. We set out then, 
 eight or nine of us together, three little schutzen, the rest big 
 bacchanten, as they were called, among whom I was the smallest 
 and the youngest schiitze of all. When I did not travel briskly 
 enough, my cousin Paulus who walked behind, pricked up my 
 paces with a switch or a stick, laid upon my bare legs; for I 
 had no hose and my shoes were worn out.
 
 THOMAS PLATTER. 223 
 
 I can recollect no longer all that happened to us on the 
 way; but some things I remember. While all sorts of things 
 were being discussed as we marched along, the bacchanten re- 
 marked to each other that it was the custom in Meissen and 
 Silesia to permit scholars to steal geese and ducks and other 
 things to eat, and that nothing would be done to them, unless 
 they allowed themselves to be taken by the one to whom the 
 property belonged. One day, not far from a village we saw a 
 great flock of geese, unaccompanied by the goose-herd (for each 
 village has its especial goose-herd), who was quite a distance 
 away in company with the cow-herd. Thereupon I asked of 
 my companions, the schiitzen : " When shall we be in Meissen, 
 where I may kill geese?" They said: "We are there now." 
 Then I took a stone, threw at a goose and hit it on the leg. 
 The other geese flew away; the lame one, however, could not 
 follow. Then I took another stone and hit it on the head, so 
 that it fell ; for I had learned the art of throwing stones while 
 I was herding goats, so that no herder of my age could surpass 
 me ; and I could blow the herder's, horn and leap with poles, 
 for I had exercised these arts among my fellow herders. Then 
 I ran up to the goose, seized it by the neck, stuck it under my 
 coat and went on through the village. But the goose-herd 
 came running after me and cried : ' ' The boy has stolen one of 
 my geese !" I and my fellow schulzen with me took to our 
 heels, and the goose's feet were sticking out from under my 
 jacket. The peasants came on with spears, which they knew 
 how to throw, and followed closely upon us. When I saw that 
 I could not escape with the goose, I let it drop. Beyond the 
 village I sprang aside from the road into the bushes, but two of 
 my companions, who kept to the road, were overhauled by the 
 peasants. They fell upon their knees and begged for mercy, 
 saying they had done them no harm ; and when the peasants 
 saw that none of them had let the goose drop, they went back 
 into the village, taking the goose with them. When I saw, 
 however, how they pursued my companions, I was in deep dis- 
 tress. I said to myself : " Good heavens, I surely think I have 
 not said my prayers to-day !" For I had been taught to say 
 my prayers every morning. When the peasants returned to
 
 224 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 the village they found our baechanten at the inn ; for they had 
 gone on ahead, and we were following. The peasants were of 
 the opinion that they should pay for the goose ; it was a matter 
 of two pence. I do not know whether they paid or not, but 
 when they came back to us, they laughed and asked us how we 
 had fared. I tried to excuse myself on the ground that it was 
 the custom of the country ; but they said, the time for that had 
 not yet come. 
 
 On another occasion a murderer came upon us in a wood, 
 eleven miles this side of Nuremberg, when we happened to be 
 all together. He sought to trifle \\ith our bacchantcii, in order 
 to detain us until his companions came together. We had with 
 us that time an honest fellow, by name Antoni Schallbetter 
 from Visperzehenden in Wallis, who feared no four or five, as 
 he had often shown in Nuremberg and Munich, and in many 
 other places. He threatened the murderer, ordering him to 
 get out of the way ; and he did so. It was so late, however, 
 that we could only reach the nearest village. There were two 
 inns, but few houses besides. When we entered one of the 
 inns, the murderer was there before us, and still others, with- 
 out doubt his companions. We would not stay there, and went 
 to the other inn, but they came thither also. At supper time 
 the people of the house were so busy that they would give us 
 little fellows nothing to eat, for we never sat at table with our 
 baccliaiitcn. Nor would they give us any bed, but we must lie 
 in the stables. When, however, they were conducting the big 
 fellows to bed, Antoni said to the host: " Host, it seems to me 
 you have rather unusual guests, and that you yourself are not 
 much better. I tell you, landlord, you had better put us where 
 we shall be safe, or we will kick up such a row for you, that 
 your house will not be big enough to hold it." For the rascals 
 made every effort to engage our fellows in a game of chess, a 
 thing which I had never heard of before. Then they were 
 shown to bed, and I, with the other fellows, were sent to lie 
 supperless in the stables. There came in the night certain 
 ones, the host himself with them very likely, to the chamber 
 door, and sought to open it. Now Antoni had set a screw 
 against the lock upon the inner side and rolled the bed against
 
 THOMAS PLATTER. 225 
 
 the door and made a light ; for he always carried candles and 
 flint and steel with him ; and quickly he wakened his compan- 
 ions. When the rascals heard this, they went away. Next 
 morning we found neither host nor servant. This is the story 
 they told to us boys. We were all rejoiced that nothing had 
 happened to us in the stable. After we had gone a good mile 
 we met with people, who, when they heard where we had 
 passed the night, expressed their surprise that we had not all 
 been murdered, for the entire village has the reputation of being 
 a murderers' den. 
 
 About a quarter of a mile this side of Naumburg our big fel- 
 lows remained behind in a village ; for when they wished to 
 feast, they sent us on ahead. There were five of us Then 
 rode eight men out of the open country upon us with cross- 
 bows spanned, and demanded money, and turned their bolts 
 upon us ; for as yet no one bore firearms on horseback. Then 
 one of them said : " Give us money !" One of us, who was 
 pretty well grown, replied : "We have no money ; we are poor 
 scholars." A second time he cried : " Give us money !" But 
 our companion said : ' ' We have no money, and will give you 
 no money, nor do we owe you any." Then the horseman 
 drew his sword, and aimed a blow at his head, so that he severed 
 the cord that held his pack. Our comrade was called Johannes 
 von Schalen, and was from the village of Visp. Then they 
 rode away into the wood, but we set on for Naumburg. Soon 
 our bacchanten came along ; they had not seen the rascals. We 
 have often at other times been in danger from horsemen and 
 murderers, both in the forest of Thuringia, in Franconia and in 
 Poland. 
 
 At Naumburg we remained several weeks. We schiitzen 
 went into the city. Some, who could sing, went singing, but I 
 went begging. We attended no school, and the others would 
 not suffer this, but threatened to force us to go to school. The 
 school-master also ordered our bacchanten to go to school, or 
 they would be arrested. Antoni sent him word to come ahead; 
 and since there were several Swiss there, they let us know what 
 day they were coming, so that we should not be taken una- 
 wares.
 
 226 SOURCE- BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 Then we little schiitzen carried stones up to the roof, while 
 Antoni and others held the doors. When the school-master 
 came with his whole following of schiitzen and bacchanten, we 
 youngsters threw stones upon them, so that they gave way. 
 Thereupon we learned that we had been complained of before 
 the city authorities. We had a neighbor who was about to give 
 his daughter a husband. He had a pen full of fat geese, of 
 which we took three by night and retired to another quarter of 
 the town. It was a suburb, but without walls, as indeed was 
 the place where we had formerly been. There the Swiss joined 
 us, and they feasted together. Then our fellows went to Halle 
 in Saxony, and we entered the school at St. Ulrich's. 
 
 There, however, our bacchanten used us so shamefully that 
 several of us conspired with my cousin Paulus, with the inten- 
 tion of running away from the bacchanten. In this manner we 
 came to Dresden ; but there were no good schools there, and 
 our sleeping-rooms were so full of vermin, that at night we 
 could hear them crawling under us in the straw. 
 
 Again we got under way and came to Breslau. On the way 
 we suffered much from hunger, so that often we had nothing 
 to eat but raw onions with salt, often for several days only 
 roasted acorns, wild apples and pears. Many a night we lay 
 under the open sky, when no one would suffer us to enter his 
 house, however politely we begged for lodging ; sometimes 
 they set the dogs upon us. In Breslau, however, everything 
 was abundant ; so cheap, indeed, that the poor scholars overate 
 and often fell into serious illness. At first we went to the school 
 in the cathedral of the Holy Cross. When, however, we learned 
 that there were some Swiss in the upper parish of St. Elizabeth, 
 we went thither. There were two from Bremgarten, two from 
 Mellingen and others, and many Swabians as well ; there was 
 no distinction made between Swabians and Swiss. We ad- 
 dressed each other as compatriots and protected each other. 
 
 The city of Breslau has seven parishes, and each parish has 
 a separate school. No scholar is permitted to sing in another 
 parish than his own, or they cry Ad idem ! ad idem ! and the 
 schiitzen rush together and fight fiercely. There are said to 
 have been several thousand bacchanten and schiitzen in the city
 
 THOMAS PLATTER. 227 
 
 at one time, all of whom were supported with alms ; some had 
 been there from twenty to thirty years and even longer, and 
 they had their schiitzen, who begged for them. I have often of 
 an evening carried five or six loads to my bacchanten at the 
 school were they dwelt. People gave very willingly to me, be- 
 cause I was small and a Swiss ; for they were very fond of the 
 Swiss. There was great sympathy for the Swiss, because at 
 this time they had fared ill in the battle of Milan,* wherefore 
 it was the custom to say "The Swiss have lost their good 
 luck ;" for previously it was the belief that they were well nigh 
 insuperable. 
 
 One day at the market-place I met two gentlemen or squires, 
 and later on I learned that one of these was named Benzenauer 
 and the other Fugger. As they were walking by I begged for 
 alms, as was the custom with the poor scholars. The Fugger 
 said to me, "Whence come you," and when he heard that I 
 was Swiss, he spoke aside with Benzenauer and then said to me: 
 " If you are really Swiss, I will adopt you and sign the papers 
 before the authorities here in Breslau ; but you must bind your- 
 self to remain with me all your life long, and to attend me 
 wherever I may be." I replied: "I have been entrusted to 
 the care of a certain person from home, and I will speak to him 
 about it." When, however, I mentioned the matter to my 
 cousin Paulus, he said : "I have brought you from home and 
 it is my intention to turn you over again to your people ; what 
 they tell you to do, that you can do. " So I declined the Fug- 
 ger' s offer, but as often as I went to his house his people did 
 not permit me to come away empty-handed. 
 
 There I remained a long time. One winter I was sick three 
 times, so that I had to be taken to the hospital. The scholars 
 have their special hospital and their own physician. The city 
 gives sixteen heller a week for each scholar, and this answers 
 very nicely. They have good care and good beds too, but 
 there are so many insects that I preferred to lie in the common 
 room, or, as many did, on the stove. The scholars and bac- 
 chanten, indeed the ordinary men, in many cases are so full ol 
 
 * Marignano, September, 1515.
 
 228 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 vermin that it is beyond belief. Many a time, especially in 
 summer time, I went out to the Oder, which flows by the city, 
 washed my shirt and hung it up on a bush to dry ; meanwhile 
 I picked the vermin from my coat, dug a hole in the ground, 
 threw a handful of lice into it, covered them up with earth and 
 set a cross upon the place. In the winter the schiitzen lay upon 
 the stove in the school ; the bacchanten, however, slept in their 
 cells, of which there were several hundred at St. Elizabeth ; in 
 summer, however, when the weather was warm, we slept in the 
 churchyard, collecting the grass, which in summer they spread 
 in front of the houses in the fine streets on Sunday. This we 
 carried to the churchyard, heaped it together in a corner, and 
 there we lay like pigs in straw ; but when it rained, we ran into 
 the school, and during the thunder-showers we sang responses 
 and other offices with the chanter almost the whole night 
 through. Once in a while after supper in summer we went beg- 
 ging in the beer-houses. The drunken Polacks gave us so 
 much beer that I often unwittingly became drunk, so that I 
 could not get back to school, although I was only a stone's 
 throw away. On the whole there was enough to eat in Breslau, 
 but not much studying. 
 
 In the school at St. Elizabeth nine bachelors lectured at the 
 same time in one room ; of Greek there was no trace anywhere 
 in that part of the country ; moreover, no one had any printed 
 books, except the teacher, who had a printed Terence. What- 
 ever was presented had to be dictated in the first place, then 
 analyzed, then construed, and at length expounded; so that 
 the bacchanten had loads of trash to carry when they went home. 
 
 Thence eight of us went on to Dresden. We suffered greatly 
 from hunger on the way. One day we determined to divide 
 our forces ; certain ones should go after geese, others after 
 turnips and .onions; one should bring a pot, and we little ones 
 were to go to the town of Neumarkt, which lay not far away 
 upon our road, and procure bread and salt. At evening we 
 were to come together outside the town, and cook whatever we 
 had collected. About a rifle-shot distance from the town was 
 a spring, where we intended to spend the night. When the 
 people in the town saw the fire, however, they came out, but
 
 THOMAS PLATTER. 22Q 
 
 did not find us there ; we took to our heels behind a ridge of 
 ground toward a pond in the woods. The big fellows piled up 
 bushes and made a hut ; some of us plucked the geese, of which 
 we had two, while others prepared the turnips for the pot, and 
 put therein the heads and feet and entrails of the geese ; still 
 others made two wooden spits and began to roast the geese, 
 and as soon as they were a little reddened with the heat we 
 took them from the spit and ate them ; and the turnips as well. 
 In the night we heard a noise ; near-by was a fish-pond ; dur- 
 ing the day the water had been drained off, and the fish were 
 leaping in the mud. We gathered up the fish, as many as we 
 could carry in a shirt fastened to a staff, and went hence to a 
 village. There we gave one fish to a peasant, on condition that 
 he should cook the others in beer for us. 
 
 When finally we came to Dresden, the schoolmaster and our 
 bacchanten sent some of us boys forth to look about for geese. 
 We agreed that I should throw at the geese, while the others 
 were to get them and carry them away. After we had found 
 a flock of geese, and they had caught sight of us, they flew 
 away ; then I threw a little club which I had with me up under 
 them as they flew, and struck one of them, so that it fell to the 
 ground. But my companions saw the goose-herd and dared 
 not run for it, although they had considerable the start of the 
 herder. Then the other geese flew down and surrounded the 
 wounded goose and gabbled as though they were speaking to 
 it ; and it stood up again and went away with the others. I 
 was vexed with my comrades, that they had not carried out 
 their promises ; but we did better after that, for we brought 
 home two geese. These the bacchanten ate with the schoolmaster 
 at a farewell feast. Thence we set out for Nuremberg and 
 further on to Munich. 
 
 On the way, not far from Dresden, it happened that I went 
 begging into a village and came up to a peasant's house. The 
 peasant asked me who I was ; and when he heard that I was 
 a Swiss, he asked if I had not comrades who were also Swiss. 
 I said : " My comrades are waiting for me outside the village." 
 Then he answered : ' ' Tell them to come !' ' He prepared a good 
 meal for us and gave us plenty of beer. When we were quite
 
 230 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 comfortable and the peasant with us, he said to his mother, who 
 lay on the bed in the common room ; ' ' Mother, I have heard 
 you say, you wanted very much to see a Swiss before you died; 
 now here you see several of them ; for I have invited them on 
 your account." Then the mother raised herself, thanked her 
 son for the guests and said : "I have heard so many good 
 things said about Swiss, that I was very anxious to see one. It 
 seems to me I shall now die that much easier ; therefore, make 
 merry !" and she lay down again. We thanked the peasant 
 and departed. 
 
 As we came near Munich it was too late to see the city, so we 
 had to spend the night in the lazaretto. When on the follow- 
 ing morning we came to the city gate, they would not admit 
 us ; we had, however, an acquaintance in the city, whom we 
 gave as reference. My cousin Paulus, who had been in Munich 
 before, was permitted to look this man up, with whom he had 
 lodged on the occasion of his former visit. He came and went 
 security for us, and then they let us in. Paulus and I went to 
 the house of a soap-boiler, named Hans Schrall, who had taken 
 his master's degree at Vienna, but was an enemy to priestcraft. 
 He had married a beautiful girl, with whom he came, many 
 years later, to Basel, where he worked at his trade ; and many 
 people here know him. I helped this master boil soap more 
 than I went to school ; went with him to the villages, buying 
 ashes. Paulus, however, went to school in the parish of Our 
 Lady and so did I, but rarely, merely because I had to sing for 
 bread through the streets and support my bacchant, Paulus. 
 The woman of the house was very fond of me ; she had an old, 
 blind, black dog, and it was my task to feed him, make his bed 
 and lead him into the court. She always said : " Tommy, take 
 the best care of my doggy ; you won't be any the worse for 
 it. ' ' When we had been there a time, Paulus began to get too 
 friendly with the maid. This the master would not permit. 
 Then Paulus determined that we should go home, for we had 
 not been at home in five years. So homeward we turned to- 
 ward Wallis. My friends there could scarcely understand me; 
 they said : ' ' Our Tommy speaks so strangely that scarcely 
 anybody can understand him;" for I was young then, and had
 
 THOMAS PLATTER. 23! 
 
 learned a little of the speech of every place where I had stopped 
 a while. In the meanwhile my mother had taken another hus- 
 band, for Heinzman am Grund was dead ; at the end of her 
 period of mourning she had married Thomas am Garstern. On 
 this account I could not be with her much, but spent most of 
 my time with my cousins, especially with my cousin Simon 
 Summermatter and my cousin Fransy. 
 
 A little later we set out again and came to Ulm. Paulus 
 took still another boy with him, named Hildebrand Kalbermat- 
 ter, a parson's son ; he too was very young. They gave him 
 some cloth, such as was made in the country, enough for a coat. 
 When we came to Ulm, Paulus had me go about with the 
 cloth and solicit the money for making it up. In this way I 
 got a good deal of money, for I was an expert at flattery and 
 begging, and for this reason the bacchanten had used me for this 
 purpose from the beginning, and would not let me go to school, 
 nor even learn to read. There at Ulm I seldom went to school, 
 and at first when I ought to have been going, I went 
 about with the cloth, and suffered greatly from hunger ; for 
 everything that I obtained I brought home to the bacchanten. 
 I dared not eat a morsel, for I feared a beating. Paulus had 
 associated with him another bacchant, Achatius by name, a 
 Mainzer by birth. My comrade and I had to support them 
 with begging, but Hildebrand ate almost everything. There- 
 fore they used to follow him through the streets, in order to 
 catch him eating, or they made him rinse his mouth with water 
 and spit it out into a dish, so that they could see if he had eaten 
 anything. Then they threw him upon a bed, placed a pillow 
 upon his head, so that he could not cry out, and they beat him, 
 these two bacchanten, until they could beat him no longer. 
 Wherefore I was afraid and brought everything home. Often 
 they had so much bread that it moulded ; then they cut off the 
 mouldy part and gave it to us to eat. I have often suffered 
 severely from hunger, and from cold as well, for I had to go 
 about in the darkness until midnight and sing for bread. 
 
 I must not forget to relate that there was a kind widow liv- 
 ing at Ulm, who had two unmarried daughters and one son, 
 Paulus Reling, who was also unmarried. Often in winter the
 
 232 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 widow wrapped my feet in a warm piece of fur, which she put 
 behind the stove, so that she could warm my feet when I came. 
 She gave me then a dish of porridge and sent me home. I have 
 been so hungry that I have driven the dogs from bones and 
 gnawed at them, and I have sought and eaten out of the 
 garbage. 
 
 Thence we went again to Munich. There I was obliged 
 again to beg for money to make up the cloth, which, however, 
 was not mine. A year later we returned to Ulm, with the in- 
 tention of turning again toward home. I brought the cloth 
 back with me, and begged again for the price of making. I 
 distinctly remember that certain persons said to me : ' ' Good 
 heavens, is that coat not made yet ? I guess you are playing 
 us a trick." So we went away. I know not what became of 
 the cloth, or whether the coat has been made or not. We came 
 home, however, and went again to Munich. 
 
 On the Sunday of our arrival the bacchanten found lodgings, 
 but we three little schiitzen were not so fortunate. Toward 
 night we sought to go into the enclosure, that is to say the 
 corn-market, in order to lie upon the sacks. Several women 
 were sitting there near the salt-house, and asked where we 
 were going. When they learned that we had no lodgings and 
 that we were Swiss, one of them, a butcher woman, said to her 
 maid : ' ' Set the pot with what soup and meat is left over the 
 fire. They must stop with me to-night, for I am fond of the 
 Swiss. I once served at a tavern in Innsbruck, when the Em- 
 peror Maximilian was holding his court there. The Swiss had 
 much to do with him at that time. They were so kind to me 
 that I shall be fond of them so long as I live." She gave us 
 enough to eat and to drink, and lodged us well. Next morn- 
 ing she said to us : "If one of you wishes to stay with me, I 
 will give him his lodgings and his meat and drink." We were 
 all willing, and asked which one she wanted ; and as she looked 
 us over, I seemed to her a little livelier than the others. So 
 she took me, and I had nothing to do but hand her her beer, 
 bring hides and meat from the shambles, and now and then ac- 
 company her to the field ; but besides this I had to support my 
 bacchant. That displeased the woman and she said to me :
 
 THOMAS PLATTER. 233 
 
 " Good heavens, let that bacchant go, and stick to me! You 
 do not need to beg. ' ' For a week I went neither to my bacchant 
 nor to school. Then came my bacchant and knocked at the 
 door of the butcher- woman's house. She said to me : "Your 
 bacchant is there. Say that you are sick ;" and she let him in. 
 She said to him : " You are a pretty gentlemen, in truth ; and 
 you want to see, do you, what Thomas is doing ? Well he has 
 been sick, and is so still." Then he said: "I am sorry, 
 youngster. When you can go out again, come to me." Some 
 time after I went one Sunday to vespers, and after vespers he 
 said to me : " Here, you schutze, you don't mean to come to 
 me ! I will give you a good drubbing." I made up my mind, 
 however, that he should not beat me any more, and I concluded 
 to run away. On Monday I said to the butcher- woman ; ' 'I think 
 I will go to school and then go and wash my shirt. ' ' I dared 
 not say what I had in mind, for I feared that she might talk me 
 out of it. I set out for Munich with a heavy heart, partly be- 
 cause I was running away from my cousin, with whom I had 
 travelled so far, but who was so harsh and merciless with me. 
 Then too, I was sorry to leave the butcher- woman, who had 
 been so kind toward me. I crossed the river Isar ; for I feared 
 if I went to Switzerland, that Paulus would follow me. He had 
 often threatened me and others, that if any one should run 
 away from him, he would pursue him, and when he caught him 
 he would break every bone in his body. 
 
 Across the Isar is a hill. There I sat down, gazed at the city 
 and wept softly to myself, that I had no longer any one to take 
 me up. My intention was to go toward Salzburg or toward 
 Vienna in Austria. While I sat there a peasant came along 
 with a wagon, carrying salt to Munich. He was already drunk, 
 although the sun had just risen. I begged of him to let me 
 ride, and he let me go with him, until he unhitched to feed. 
 While this was going on I begged in the village ; and not far 
 beyond the village I waited for him and, while waiting, fell 
 asleep. When I awoke, I wept bitterly, for I thought the 
 peasant had gone along, and I grieved as though I had lost a 
 father ; but soon he came along, now thoroughly befuddled. 
 He told me to mount again and asked me where I wanted to
 
 234 SOURCE-BOOK OF THE GERMAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 go. I said : " To Salzburg ;" and when evening came he left 
 the highway and said: "Jump down : there is the road to 
 Salzburg." We had travelled eight miles during the day. 
 
 I came to a village, and when I arose the next morning such 
 a frost had fallen that it was like snow, and I had no shoes, 
 only tattered stockings ; no cap, only a jacket without folds. 
 In this guise I went on to Passau, and from there it was my 
 intention to go to Vienna by the Danube. When I came to 
 Passau they would not let me in Then I determined to go to 
 Switzerland, and asked the watchman at the city gate which 
 was the nearest way. He said: "Byway of Munich;" but 
 when I replied : " I do not wish to go by the way of Munich . 
 I had rather make a circuit of ten miles or even further, ' ' he 
 pointed out the way by Freisingen. There is a high school, 
 and there I found Swiss, who asked me whence I came. But 
 only two or three days passed before Paulus came with a hal- 
 berd. The schiitze said to me: " Your bacchant from Munich 
 is here looking for you." Upon this I ran forth from the city 
 gate, as though he were upon my heels, and made for Ulm. 
 
 I went to my saddler's wife, who formerly had warmed my 
 feet in the rug. She took me into her house, and let me tend 
 the turnips in the field. This I did, and went no more to 
 school. Some weeks later a certain one, who had been Paulus' 
 comrade, came to me and said : "Your cousin Paulus is here 
 and looking for you." He had followed me for eighteen miles, 
 because he had indeed lost a good thing in me. I had supported 
 him for years. When I heard this, although it was night, I ran 
 out through the city gate toward Constance, but grieved to 
 myself, for it hurt me sore that I must leave my dear mistress. 
 When I was nearly at Morsburg I ran across a stone-mason 
 from Thurgau. We met a young peasant, and the stone-mason 
 said to me ; ' ' We must get some money out of this peasant. ' ' 
 To him he said . " Here, peasant, hand out your money, or the 
 devil fly away with you !" The peasant was frightened and I 
 was sore afraid, and wished I was somewhere else. The 
 peasant began to pull out his purse, but the stone-mason said : 
 " That's all ! I was just joking with you." 
 
 Thus I came across the lake to Constance. As I was crossing
 
 THOMAS PLATTER. 235 
 
 the bridge I saw some Swiss peasants in their white jackets, 
 and O L/ord, how glad I was ! I thought I was in the king- 
 dom of Heaven. I came to Zurich, and found there some big 
 bacchanten from Wallis. I offered to beg for them on condition 
 that they should teach me ; and they did so, as the others had 
 done. At that time the Cardinal von Sitten was in Zurich, 
 seeking to enroll citizens of Zurich to accompany him to the 
 Pope's dominions; but it had rather to do with Milan, as the 
 sequel proved some months later. Paulus sent his schutze, 
 Hildebrand, from Munich, to tell me I should come back to 
 him ; that he would forgive me. I did not care to do so, and 
 remained in Zurich, but not to study.
 
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