No More Learning

And,
although he was, at this time, much too young to comprehend the full
force of the orator's reasoning, he was so struck with the charms of his
style, that he considered him the only true model in prose composition.

His father, who was himself something of a scholar, was pleased and
astonished at this early proof of his good taste; he applauded his
classical studies, and encouraged him to persevere in them; but, very
soon, he imagined that he had cause to repent of his commendations.
Classical learning was, in that age, regarded as a mere solitary
accomplishment, and the law was the only road that led to honours and
preferment. Petracco was, therefore, desirous to turn into that channel
the brilliant qualities of his son; and for this purpose he sent him, at
the age of fifteen, to the university of Montpelier. Petrarch remained
there for four years, and attended lectures on law from some of the
most famous professors of the science. But his prepossession for Cicero
prevented him from much frequenting the dry and dusty walks of
jurisprudence. In his epistle to posterity, he endeavours to justify
this repugnance by other motives. He represents the abuses, the
chicanery, and mercenary practices of the law, as inconsistent with
every principle of candour and honesty.

When Petracco observed that his son made no great progress in his legal
studies at Montpelier, he removed him, in 1323, to Bologna, celebrated
for the study of the canon and civil law, probably imagining that the
superior fame of the latter place might attract him to love the law. To
Bologna Petrarch was accompanied by his brother Gherardo, and by his
inseparable friend, young Guido Settimo.

But neither the abilities of the several professors in that celebrated
academy, nor the strongest exhortations of his father, were sufficient
to conquer the deeply-rooted aversion which our poet had conceived for
the law. Accordingly, Petracco hastened to Bologna, that he might
endeavour to check his son's indulgence in literature, which
disconcerted his favourite designs. Petrarch, guessing at the motive of
his arrival, hid the copies of Cicero, Virgil, and some other authors,
which composed his small library, and to purchase which he had deprived
himself of almost the necessaries of life. His father, however, soon
discovered the place of their concealment, and threw them into the fire.
Petrarch exhibited as much agony as if he had been himself the martyr of
his father's resentment. Petracco was so much affected by his son's
tears, that he rescued from the flames Cicero and Virgil, and,
presenting them to Petrarch, he said, "Virgil will console you for the
loss of your other MSS. , and Cicero will prepare you for the study of
the law. "

It is by no means wonderful that a mind like Petrarch's could but ill
relish the glosses of the Code and the commentaries on the Decretals.

At Bologna, however, he met with an accomplished literary man and no
inelegant poet in one of the professors, who, if he failed in persuading
Petrarch to make the law his profession, certainly quickened his relish
and ambition for poetry. This man was Cino da Pistoia, who is esteemed
by Italians as the most tender and harmonious lyric poet in the native
language anterior to Petrarch.

During his residence at Bologna, Petrarch made an excursion as far as
Venice, a city that struck him with enthusiastic admiration. In one of
his letters he calls it "_orbem alterum_. " Whilst Italy was harassed, he
says, on all sides by continual dissensions, like the sea in a storm,
Venice alone appeared like a safe harbour, which overlooked the tempest
without feeling its commotion. The resolute and independent spirit of
that republic made an indelible impression on Petrarch's heart. The
young poet, perhaps, at this time little imagined that Venice was to be
the last scene of his triumphant eloquence.

Soon after his return from Venice to Bologna, he received the melancholy
intelligence of the death of his mother, in the thirty-eighth year of
her age. Her age is known by a copy of verses which Petrarch wrote upon
her death, the verses being the same in number as the years of her life.
She had lived humble and retired, and had devoted herself to the good of
her family; virtuous amidst the prevalence of corrupted manners, and,
though a beautiful woman, untainted by the breath of calumny. Petrarch
has repaid her maternal affection by preserving her memory from
oblivion. Petracco did not long survive the death of this excellent
woman. According to the judgment of our poet, his father was a man of
strong character and understanding. Banished from his native country,
and engaged in providing for his family, he was prevented by the
scantiness of his fortune, and the cares of his situation, from rising
to that eminence which he might have otherwise attained. But his
admiration of Cicero, in an age when that author was universally
neglected, was a proof of his superior mind.

Petrarch quitted Bologna upon the death of his father, and returned to
Avignon, with his brother Gherardo, to collect the shattered remains of
their father's property. Upon their arrival, they found their domestic
affairs in a state of great disorder, as the executors of Petracco's
will had betrayed the trust reposed in them, and had seized most of the
effects of which they could dispose. Under these circumstances, Petrarch
was most anxious for a MS. of Cicero, which his father had highly
prized. "The guardians," he writes, "eager to appropriate what they
esteemed the more valuable effects, had fortunately left this MS. as a
thing of no value. " Thus he owed to their ignorance this treatise, which
he considered the richest portion of the inheritance left him by his
father.

But, that inheritance being small, and not sufficient for the
maintenance of the two brothers, they were obliged to think of some
profession for their subsistence; they therefore entered the church; and
Avignon was the place, of all others, where preferment was most easily
obtained. John XXII. had fixed his residence entirely in that city since
October, 1316, and had appropriated to himself the nomination to all the
vacant benefices. The pretence for this appropriation was to prevent
simony--in others, not in his Holiness--as the sale of benefices was
carried by him to an enormous height. At every promotion to a bishopric,
he removed other bishops; and, by the meanest impositions, soon amassed
prodigious wealth. Scandalous emoluments, also, which arose from the
sale of indulgences, were enlarged, if not invented, under his papacy,
and every method of acquiring riches was justified which could
contribute to feed his avarice. By these sordid means, he collected such
sums, that, according to Villani, he left behind him, _in the sacred
treasury_, twenty-five millions of florins, a treasure which Voltaire
remarks is hardly credible.

The luxury and corruption which reigned in the Roman court at Avignon
are fully displayed in some letters of Petrarch's, without either date
or address. The partizans of that court, it is true, accuse him of
prejudice and exaggeration. He painted, as they allege, the popes and
cardinals in the gloomiest colouring. His letters contain the blackest
catalogue of crimes that ever disgraced humanity.

Petrarch was twenty-two years of age when he settled at Avignon, a scene
of licentiousness and profligacy. The luxury of the cardinals, and the
pomp and riches of the papal court, were displayed in an extravagant
profusion of feasts and ceremonies, which attracted to Avignon women of
all ranks, among whom intrigue and gallantry were generally
countenanced. Petrarch was by nature of a warm temperament, with vivid
and susceptible passions, and strongly attached to the fair sex. We must
not therefore be surprised if, with these dispositions, and in such a
dissolute city, he was betrayed into some excesses. But these were the
result of his complexion, and not of deliberate profligacy. He alludes
to this subject in his Epistle to Posterity, with every appearance of
truth and candour.

From his own confession, Petrarch seems to have been somewhat vain of
his personal appearance during his youth, a venial foible, from which
neither the handsome nor the homely, nor the wise nor the foolish, are
exempt. It is amusing to find our own Milton betraying this weakness, in
spite of all the surrounding strength of his character. In answering one
of his slanderers, who had called him pale and cadaverous, the author of
Paradise Lost appeals to all who knew him whether his complexion was not
so fresh and blooming as to make him appear ten years younger than he
really was.

Petrarch, when young, was so strikingly handsome, that he was frequently
pointed at and admired as he passed along, for his features were manly,
well-formed, and expressive, and his carriage was graceful and
distinguished. He was sprightly in conversation, and his voice was
uncommonly musical. His complexion was between brown and fair, and his
eyes were bright and animated. His countenance was a faithful index of
his heart.

He endeavoured to temper the warmth of his constitution by the
regularity of his living and the plainness of his diet. He indulged
little in either wine or sleep, and fed chiefly on fruits and
vegetables.

In his early days he was nice and neat in his dress, even to a degree of
affectation, which, in later life, he ridiculed when writing to his
brother Gherardo. "Do you remember," he says, "how much care we
employed in the lure of dressing our persons; when we traversed the
streets, with what attention did we not avoid every breath of wind which
might discompose our hair; and with what caution did we not prevent the
least speck of dirt from soiling our garments! "

This vanity, however, lasted only during his youthful days. And even
then neither attention to his personal appearance, nor his attachment to
the fair sex, nor his attendance upon the great, could induce Petrarch
to neglect his own mental improvement, for, amidst all these
occupations, he found leisure for application, and devoted himself to
the cultivation of his favourite pursuits of literature.

Inclined by nature to moral philosophy, he was guided by the reading of
Cicero and Seneca to that profound knowledge of the human heart, of the
duties of others and of our own duties, which shows itself in all his
writings. Gifted with a mind full of enthusiasm for poetry, he learned
from Virgil elegance and dignity in versification. But he had still
higher advantages from the perusal of Livy. The magnanimous actions of
Roman heroes so much excited the soul of Petrarch, that he thought the
men of his own age light and contemptible.

His first compositions were in Latin: many motives, however, induced him
to compose in the vulgar tongue, as Italian was then called, which,
though improved by Dante, was still, in many respects, harsh and
inelegant, and much in want of new beauties. Petrarch wrote for the
living, and for that portion of the living who were least of all to be
fascinated by the language of the dead. Latin might be all very well for
inscriptions on mausoleums, but it was not suited for the ears of beauty
and the bowers of love. The Italian language acquired, under his
cultivation, increased elegance and richness, so that the harmony of his
style has contributed to its beauty. He did not, however, attach himself
solely to Italian, but composed much in Latin, which he reserved for
graver, or, as he considered, more important subjects. His compositions
in Latin are--Africa, an epic poem; his Bucolics, containing twelve
eclogues; and three books of epistles.

Petrarch's greatest obstacles to improvement arose from the scarcity of
authors whom he wished to consult--for the manuscripts of the writers of
the Augustan age were, at that time, so uncommon, that many could not be
procured, and many more of them could not be purchased under the most
extravagant price. This scarcity of books had checked the dawning light
of literature. The zeal of our poet, however, surmounted all these
obstacles, for he was indefatigable in collecting and copying many of
the choicest manuscripts; and posterity is indebted to him for the
possession of many valuable writings, which were in danger of being lost
through the carelessness or ignorance of the possessors.

Petrarch could not but perceive the superiority of his own understanding
and the brilliancy of his abilities. The modest humility which knows not
its own worth is not wont to show itself in minds much above mediocrity;
and to elevated geniuses this virtue is a stranger. Petrarch from his
youthful age had an internal assurance that he should prove worthy of
estimation and honours. Nevertheless, as he advanced in the field of
science, he saw the prospect increase, Alps over Alps, and seemed to be
lost amidst the immensity of objects before him. Hence the anticipation
of immeasurable labours occasionally damped his application. But from
this depression of spirits he was much relieved by the encouragement of
John of Florence, one of the secretaries of the Pope, a man of learning
and probity. He soon distinguished the extraordinary abilities of
Petrarch; he directed him in his studies, and cheered up his ambition.
Petrarch returned his affection with unbounded confidence. He entrusted
him with all his foibles, his disgusts, and his uneasinesses. He says
that he never conversed with him without finding himself more calm and
composed, and more animated for study.

The superior sagacity of our poet, together with his pleasing manners,
and his increasing reputation for knowledge, ensured to him the most
flattering prospects of success. His conversation was courted by men of
rank, and his acquaintance was sought by men of learning. It was at this
time, 1326, that his merit procured him the friendship and patronage of
James Colonna, who belonged to one of the most ancient and illustrious
families of Italy.

"About the twenty-second year of my life," Petrarch writes to one of his
friends, "I became acquainted with James Colonna. He had seen me whilst
I resided at Bologna, and was prepossessed, as he was pleased to say,
with my appearance. Upon his arrival at Avignon, he again saw me, when,
having inquired minutely into the state of my affairs, he admitted me to
his friendship. I cannot sufficiently describe the cheerfulness of his
temper, his social disposition, his moderation in prosperity, his
constancy in adversity. I speak not from report, but from my own
experience. He was endowed with a persuasive and forcible eloquence. His
conversation and letters displayed the amiableness of his sincere
character. He gained the first place in my affections, which he ever
afterwards retained. "

Such is the portrait which our poet gives of James Colonna. A faithful
and wise friend is among the most precious gifts of fortune; but, as
friendships cannot wholly feed our affections, the heart of Petrarch, at
this ardent age, was destined to be swayed by still tenderer feelings.
He had nearly finished his twenty-third year without having ever
seriously known the passion of love. In that year he first saw Laura.
Concerning this lady, at one time, when no life of Petrarch had been yet
written that was not crude and inaccurate, his biographers launched
into the wildest speculations. One author considered her as an
allegorical being; another discovered her to be a type of the Virgin
Mary; another thought her an allegory of poetry and repentance. Some
denied her even allegorical existence, and deemed her a mere phantom
beauty, with which the poet had fallen in love, like Pygmalion with the
work of his own creation. All these caprices about Laura's history have
been long since dissipated, though the principal facts respecting her
were never distinctly verified, till De Sade, her own descendant, wrote
his memoirs of the Life of Petrarch.

Petrarch himself relates that in 1327, exactly at the first hour of the
6th of April, he first beheld Laura in the church of St. Clara of
Avignon,[A] where neither the sacredness of the place, nor the solemnity
of the day, could prevent him from being smitten for life with human
love. In that fatal hour he saw a lady, a little younger than himself[B]
in a green mantle sprinkled with violets, on which her golden hair fell
plaited in tresses. She was distinguished from all others by her proud
and delicate carriage. The impression which she made on his heart was
sudden, yet it was never effaced.

Laura, descended from a family of ancient and noble extraction, was the
daughter of Audibert de Noves, a Provencal nobleman, by his wife
Esmessenda. She was born at Avignon, probably in 1308. She had a
considerable fortune, and was married in 1325 to Hugh de Sade. The
particulars of her life are little known, as Petrarch has left few
traces of them in his letters; and it was still less likely that he
should enter upon her personal history in his sonnets, which, as they
were principally addressed to herself, made it unnecessary for him to
inform her of what she already knew.

While many writers have erred in considering Petrarch's attachment as
visionary, others, who have allowed the reality of his passion, have
been mistaken in their opinion of its object. They allege that Petrarch
was a happy lover, and that his mistress was accustomed to meet him at
Vaucluse, and make him a full compensation for his fondness. No one at
all acquainted with the life and writings of Petrarch will need to be
told that this is an absurd fiction. Laura, a married woman, who bore
ten children to a rather morose husband, could not have gone to meet him
at Vaucluse without the most flagrant scandal. It is evident from his
writings that she repudiated his passion whenever it threatened to
exceed the limits of virtuous friendship. On one occasion, when he
seemed to presume too far upon her favour, she said to him with
severity, "I am not what you take me for. " If his love had been
successful, he would have said less about it.

Of the two persons in this love affair, I am more inclined to pity Laura
than Petrarch. Independently of her personal charms, I cannot conceive
Laura otherwise than as a kind-hearted, loveable woman, who could not
well be supposed to be totally indifferent to the devotion of the most
famous and fascinating man of his age. On the other hand, what was the
penalty that she would have paid if she had encouraged his addresses as
far as he would have carried them? Her disgrace, a stigma left on her
family, and the loss of all that character which upholds a woman in her
own estimation and in that of the world. I would not go so far as to say
that she did not at times betray an anxiety to retain him under the
spell of her fascination, as, for instance, when she is said to have
cast her eyes to the ground in sadness when he announced his intention
to leave Avignon; but still I should like to hear her own explanation
before I condemned her. And, after all, she was only anxious for the
continuance of attentions, respecting which she had made a fixed
understanding that they should not exceed the bounds of innocence.

We have no distinct account how her husband regarded the homage of
Petrarch to his wife--whether it flattered his vanity, or moved his
wrath. As tradition gives him no very good character for temper, the
latter supposition is the more probable. Every morning that he went out
he might hear from some kind friend the praises of a new sonnet which
Petrarch had written on his wife; and, when he came back to dinner, of
course his good humour was not improved by the intelligence. He was in
the habit of scolding her till she wept; he married seven months after
her death, and, from all that is known of him, appears to have been a
bad husband. I suspect that Laura paid dearly for her poet's idolatry.

No incidents of Petrarch's life have been transmitted to us for the
first year or two after his attachment to Laura commenced. He seems to
have continued at Avignon, prosecuting his studies and feeding his
passion.

James Colonna, his friend and patron, was promoted in 1328 to the
bishopric of Lombes in Gascony; and in the year 1330 he went from
Avignon to take possession of his diocese, and invited Petrarch to
accompany him to his residence. No invitation could be more acceptable
to our poet: they set out at the end of March, 1330. In order to reach
Lombes, it was necessary to cross the whole of Languedoc, and to pass
through Montpelier, Narbonne, and Toulouse. Petrarch already knew
Montpelier, where he had, or ought to have, studied the law for four
years.

Full of enthusiasm for Rome, Petrarch was rejoiced to find at Narbonne
the city which had been the first Roman colony planted among the Gauls.
This colony had been formed entirely of Roman citizens, and, in order to
reconcile them to their exile, the city was built like a little image of
Rome. It had its capital, its baths, arches, and fountains; all which
works were worthy of the Roman name. In passing through Narbonne,
Petrarch discovered a number of ancient monuments and inscriptions.

Our travellers thence proceeded to Toulouse, where they passed several
days. This city, which was known even before the foundation of Rome, is
called, in some ancient Roman acts, "Roma Garumnae. " It was famous in the
classical ages for cultivating literature. After the fall of the Roman
empire, the successive incursions of the Visigoths, the Saracens, and
the Normans, for a long time silenced the Muses at Toulouse; but they
returned to their favourite haunt after ages of barbarism had passed
away. De Sade says, that what is termed Provencal poetry was much more
cultivated by the Languedocians than by the Provencals, properly so
called. The city of Toulouse was considered as the principal seat of
this earliest modern poetry, which was carried to perfection in the
twelfth and thirteenth centuries, under the patronage of the Counts of
Toulouse, particularly Raimond V. , and his son, Raimond VI. Petrarch
speaks with high praise of those poets in his Triumphs of Love. It has
been alleged that he owed them this mark of his regard for their having
been so useful to him in his Italian poetry; and Nostradamus even
accuses him of having stolen much from them. But Tassoni, who understood
the Provencal poets better than Nostradamus, defends him successfully
from this absurd accusation.

Although Provencal poetry was a little on its decline since the days of
the Dukes of Aquitaine and the Counts of Toulouse, it was still held in
honour; and, when Petrarch arrived, the Floral games had been
established at Toulouse during six years. [C]

Ere long, however, our travellers found less agreeable objects of
curiosity, that formed a sad contrast with the chivalric manners, the
floral games, and the gay poetry of southern France. Bishop Colonna and
Petrarch had intended to remain for some time at Toulouse; but their
sojourn was abridged by their horror at a tragic event[D] in the
principal monastery of the place. There lived in that monastery a young
monk, named Augustin, who was expert in music, and accompanied the
psalmody of the religious brothers with beautiful touches on the organ.
The superior of the convent, relaxing its discipline, permitted Augustin
frequently to mix with the world, in order to teach music, and to
improve himself in the art. The young monk was in the habit of
familiarly visiting the house of a respectable citizen: he was
frequently in the society of his daughter, and, by the express
encouragement of her father, undertook to exercise her in the practice
of music. Another young man, who was in love with the girl, grew jealous
of the monk, who was allowed to converse so familiarly with her, whilst
he, her lay admirer, could only have stolen glimpses of her as she
passed to church or to public spectacles. He set about the ruin of his
supposed rival with cunning atrocity; and, finding that the young woman
was infirm in health, suborned a physician, as worthless as himself, to
declare that she was pregnant. Her credulous father, without inquiring
whether the intelligence was true or false, went to the superior of the
convent, and accused Augustin, who, though thunderstruck at the
accusation, denied it firmly, and defended himself intrepidly. But the
superior was deaf to his plea of innocence, and ordered him to be shut
up in his cell, that he might await his punishment. Thither the poor
young man was conducted, and threw himself on his bed in a state of
horror.

The superior and the elders among the friars thought it a meet fate for
the accused that he should be buried alive in a subterranean dungeon,
after receiving the terrific sentence of "_Vade in pace_. " At the end of
several days the victim dashed out his brains against the walls of his
sepulchre. Bishop Colonna, who, it would appear, had no power to oppose
this hideous transaction, when he was informed of it, determined to
leave the place immediately; and Petrarch in his indignation exclaimed--

"Heu! fuge crudeles terras, fuge littus avarum. "--VIRG.

On the 26th of May, 1330, the Bishop of Lombes and Petrarch quitted
Toulouse, and arrived at the mansion of the diocese. Lombes--in Latin,
Lombarium--lies at the foot of the Pyrenees, only eight leagues from
Toulouse. It is small and ill-built, and offers no allurement to the
curiosity of the traveller. Till lately it had been a simple abbey of
the Augustine monks. The whole of the clergy of the little city, singing
psalms, issued out of Lombes to meet their new pastor, who, under a rich
canopy, was conducted to the principal church, and there, in his
episcopal robes, blessed the people, and delivered an eloquent
discourse. Petrarch beheld with admiration the dignified behaviour of
the youthful prelate. James Colonna, though accustomed to the wealth and
luxury of Rome, came to the Pyrenean rocks with a pleased countenance.
"His aspect," says Petrarch, "made it seem as if Italy had been
transported into Gascony. " Nothing is more beautiful than the patient
endurance of our destiny; yet there are many priests who would suffer
translation to a well-paid, though mountainous bishopric, with patience
and piety.

The vicinity of the Pyrenees renders the climate of Lombes very severe;
and the character and conversation of the inhabitants were scarcely more
genial than their climate. But Petrarch found in the bishop's abode
friends who consoled him in this exile among the Lombesians. Two young
and familiar inmates of the Bishop's house attracted and returned his
attachment. The first of these was Lello di Stefani, a youth of a noble
and ancient family in Rome, long attached to the Colonnas. Lello's
gifted understanding was improved by study; so Petrarch tells us; and he
could have been no ordinary man whom our accomplished poet so highly
valued. In his youth he had quitted his studies for the profession of
arms; but the return of peace restored him to his literary pursuits.
Such was the attachment between Petrarch and Lello, that Petrarch gave
him the name of Laelius, the most attached companion of Scipio. The other
friend to whom Petrarch attached himself in the house of James Colonna
was a young German, extremely accomplished in music. De Sade says that
his name was Louis, without mentioning his cognomen. He was a native of
Ham, near Bois le Duc, on the left bank of the Rhine between Brabant and
Holland. Petrarch, with his Italian prejudices, regarded him as a
barbarian by birth; but he was so fascinated by his serene temper and
strong judgment, that he singled him out to be the chief of all his
friends, and gave him the name of Socrates, noting him as an example
that Nature can sometimes produce geniuses in the most unpropitious
regions.

After having passed the summer of 1330 at Lombes, the Bishop returned to
Avignon, in order to meet his father, the elder Stefano Colonna, and his
brother the Cardinal.

The Colonnas were a family of the first distinction in modern Italy.
They had been exceedingly powerful during the popedom of Boniface VIII. ,
through the talents of the late Cardinal James Colonna, brother of the
famous old Stefano, so well known to Petrarch, and whom he used to call
a phoenix sprung up from the ashes of Rome. Their house possessed also
an influential public character in the Cardinal Pietro, brother of the
younger Stefano.
They were formidable from the territories and castles
which they possessed, and by their alliance and friendship with Charles,
King of Naples. The power of the Colonna family became offensive to
Boniface, who, besides, hated the two Cardinals for having opposed the
renunciation of Celestine V. , which Boniface had fraudulently obtained.
Boniface procured a crusade against them. They were beaten, expelled
from their castles, and almost exterminated; they implored peace, but in
vain; they were driven from Rome, and obliged to seek refuge, some in
Sicily and others in France. During the time of their exile, Boniface
proclaimed it a capital crime to give shelter to any of them.

The Colonnas finally returned to their dignities and property, and
afterwards made successful war against the house of their rivals, the
Orsini.

John Colonna, the Cardinal, brother of the Bishop of Lombes, and son of
old Stefano, was one of the very ablest men at the papal court. He
insisted on our poet taking up his abode in his own palace at Avignon.
"What good fortune was this for me! " says Petrarch. "This great man
never made me feel that he was my superior in station. He was like a
father or an indulgent brother; and I lived in his house as if it had
been my own. " At a subsequent period, we find him on somewhat cooler
terms with John Colonna, and complaining that his domestic dependence
had, by length of time, become wearisome to him. But great allowance is
to be made for such apparent inconsistencies in human attachment. At
different times our feelings and language on any subject may be
different without being insincere. The truth seems to be that Petrarch
looked forward to the friendship of the Colonnas for promotion, which he
either received scantily, or not at all; so it is little marvellous if
he should have at last felt the tedium of patronage.

For the present, however, this home was completely to Petrarch's taste.
It was the rendezvous of all strangers distinguished by their knowledge
and talents, whom the papal court attracted to Avignon, which was now
the great centre of all political negotiations.

This assemblage of the learned had a powerful influence on Petrarch's
fine imagination. He had been engaged for some time in the perusal of
Livy, and his enthusiasm for ancient Rome was heightened, if possible,
by the conversation of old Stefano Colonna, who dwelt on no subject with
so much interest as on the temples and palaces of the ancient city,
majestic even in their ruins.

During the bitter persecution raised against his family by Boniface
VIII. , Stefano Colonna had been the chief object of the Pope's
implacable resentment. Though oppressed by the most adverse
circumstances, his estates confiscated, his palaces levelled with the
ground, and himself driven into exile, the majesty of his appearance,
and the magnanimity of his character, attracted the respect of strangers
wherever he went. He had the air of a sovereign prince rather than of an
exile, and commanded more regard than monarchs in the height of their
ostentation.

In the picture of his times, Stefano makes a noble and commanding
figure. If the reader, however, happens to search into that period of
Italian history, he will find many facts to cool the romance of his
imagination respecting all the Colonna family. They were, in plain
truth, an oppressive aristocratic family. The portion of Italy which
they and their tyrannical rivals possessed was infamously governed. The
highways were rendered impassable by banditti, who were in the pay of
contesting feudal lords; and life and property were everywhere insecure.

Stefano, nevertheless, seems to have been a man formed for better times.
He improved in the school of misfortune--the serenity of his temper
remained unclouded by adversity, and his faculties unimpaired by age.

Among the illustrious strangers who came to Avignon at this time was our
countryman, Richard de Bury, then accounted the most learned man of
England. He arrived at Avignon in 1331, having been sent to the Pope by
Edward III. De Sade conceives that the object of his embassy was to
justify his sovereign before the Pontiff for having confined the
Queen-mother in the castle of Risings, and for having caused her
favourite, Roger de Mortimer, to be hanged. It was a matter of course
that so illustrious a stranger as Richard de Bury should be received
with distinction by Cardinal Colonna. Petrarch eagerly seized the
opportunity of forming his acquaintance, confident that De Bury could
give him valuable information on many points of geography and history.
They had several conversations. Petrarch tells us that he entreated the
learned Englishman to make him acquainted with the true situation of the
isle of Thule, of which the ancients speak with much uncertainty, but
which their best geographers place at the distance of some days'
navigation from the north of England. De Bury was, in all probability,
puzzled with the question, though he did not like to confess his
ignorance. He excused himself by promising to inquire into the subject
as soon as he should get back to his books in England, and to write to
him the best information he could afford. It does not appear, however,
that he performed his promise.

De Bury's stay at the court of Avignon was very short. King Edward, it
is true, sent him a second time to the Pope, two years afterwards, on
important business. The seeds of discord between France and England
began to germinate strongly, and that circumstance probably occasioned
De Bury's second mission. Unfortunately, however, Petrarch could not
avail himself of his return so as to have further interviews with the
English scholar. Petrarch wrote repeatedly to De Bury for his promised
explanations respecting Thule; but, whether our countryman had found
nothing in his library to satisfy his inquiries, or was prevented by his
public occupations, there is no appearance of his having ever answered
Petrarch's letters.

Stephano Colonna the younger had brought with him to Avignon his son
Agapito, who was destined for the church, that he might be educated
under the eyes of the Cardinal and the Bishop, who were his uncles.
These two prelates joined with their father in entreating Petrarch to
undertake the superintendence of Agapito's studies. Our poet, avaricious
of his time, and jealous of his independence, was at first reluctant to
undertake the charge; but, from his attachment to the family, at last
accepted it. De Sade tells us that Petrarch was not successful in the
young man's education; and, from a natural partiality for the hero of
his biography, lays the blame on his pupil. At the same time he
acknowledges that a man with poetry in his head and love in his heart
was not the most proper mentor in the world for a youth who was to be
educated for the church. At this time, Petrarch's passion for Laura
continued to haunt his peace with incessant violence. She had received
him at first with good-humour and affability; but it was only while he
set strict bounds to the expression of his attachment. He had not,
however, sufficient self-command to comply with these terms. His
constant assiduities, his eyes continually riveted upon her, and the
wildness of his looks, convinced her of his inordinate attachment; her
virtue took alarm; she retired whenever he approached her, and even
covered her face with a veil whilst he was present, nor would she
condescend to the slightest action or look that might seem to
countenance his passion.

Petrarch complains of these severities in many of his melancholy
sonnets. Meanwhile, if fame could have been a balm to love, he might
have been happy. His reputation as a poet was increasing, and his
compositions were read with universal approbation.

The next interesting event in our poet's life was a larger course of
travels, which he took through the north of France, through Flanders,
Brabant, and a part of Germany, subsequently to his tour in Languedoc.
Petrarch mentions that he undertook this journey about the twenty-fifth
year of his age. He was prompted to travel not only by his curiosity to
observe men and manners, by his desire of seeing monuments of antiquity,
and his hopes of discovering the MSS. of ancient authors, but also, we
may believe, by his wish, if it were possible, to escape from himself,
and to forget Laura.

From Paris Petrarch wrote as follows to Cardinal Colonna. "I have
visited Paris, the capital of the whole kingdom of France. I entered it
in the same state of mind that was felt by Apuleias when he visited
Hypata, a city of Thessaly, celebrated for its magic, of which such
wonderful things were related, looking again and again at every object,
in solicitous suspense, to know whether all that he had heard of the
far-famed place was true or false. Here I pass a great deal of time in
observation, and, as the day is too short for my curiosity, I add the
night. At last, it seems to me that, by long exploring, I have enabled
myself to distinguish between the true and the false in what is related
about Paris. But, as the subject would be too tedious for this occasion,
I shall defer entering fully into particulars till I can do so _viva
voce_. My impatience, however, impels me to sketch for you briefly a
general idea of this so celebrated city, and of the character of its
inhabitants.

"Paris, though always inferior to its fame, and much indebted to the
lies of its own people, is undoubtedly a great city. To be sure I never
saw a dirtier place, except Avignon. At the same time, its population
contains the most learned of men, and it is like a great basket in which
are collected the rarest fruits of every country. From the time that its
university was founded, as they say by Alcuin, the teacher of
Charlemagne, there has not been, to my knowledge, a single Parisian of
any fame. The great luminaries of the university were all strangers;
and, if the love of my country does not deceive me, they were chiefly
Italians, such as Pietro Lombardo, Tomaso d'Aquino, Bonaventura, and
many others.

"The character of the Parisians is very singular. There was a time when,
from the ferocity of their manners, the French were reckoned barbarians.
At present the case is wholly changed. A gay disposition, love of
society, ease, and playfulness in conversation now characterize them.
They seek every opportunity of distinguishing themselves; and make war
against all cares with joking, laughing, singing, eating, and drinking.
Prone, however, as they are to pleasure, they are not heroic in
adversity. The French love their country and their countrymen; they
censure with rigour the faults of other nations, but spread a
proportionably thick veil over their own defects. "

From Paris, Petrarch proceeded to Ghent, of which only he makes mention
to the Cardinal, without noticing any of the towns that lie between. It
is curious to find our poet out of humour with Flanders on account of
the high price of wine, which was not an indigenous article. In the
latter part of his life, Petrarch was certainly one of the most
abstemious of men; but, at this period, it would seem that he drank good
liquor enough to be concerned about its price.

From Ghent he passed on to Liege. "This city is distinguished," he says,
"by the riches and the number of its clergy. As I had heard that
excellent MSS. might be found there, I stopped in the place for some
time. But is it not singular that in so considerable a place I had
difficulty to procure ink enough to copy two orations of Cicero's, and
the little that I could obtain was as yellow as saffron? "

Petrarch was received at most of the places he visited, and more
particularly at Cologne, with marks of great respect; and he was
agreeably surprised to find that his reputation had acquired him the
partiality and acquaintance of several inhabitants. He was conducted by
his new friends to the banks of the Rhine, where the inhabitants were
engaged in the performance of a superstitious annual ceremony, which,
for its singularity, deserves to be recorded.

"The banks of the river were crowded with a considerable number of
women, their persons comely, and their dress elegant. This great
concourse of people seemed to create no confusion. A number of these
women, with cheerful countenances, crowned with flowers, bathed their
hands and arms in the stream, and uttered, at the same time, some
harmonious expressions in a language which I did not understand. I
inquired into the cause of this ceremony, and was informed that it arose
from a tradition among the people, and particularly among the women,
that the impending calamities of the year were carried away by this
ablution, and that blessings succeeded in their place. Hence this
ceremony is annually renewed, and the ablution performed with
unremitting diligence. "

The ceremony being finished, Petrarch smiled at their superstition, and
exclaimed, "O happy inhabitants of the Rhine, whose waters wash out your
miseries, whilst neither the Po nor the Tiber can wash out ours! You
transmit your evils to the Britons by means of this river, whilst we
send off ours to the Illyrians and the Africans. It seems that our
rivers have a slower course. "

Petrarch shortened his excursion that he might return the sooner to
Avignon, where the Bishop of Lombes had promised to await his return,
and take him to Rome.

When he arrived at Lyons, however, he was informed that the Bishop had
departed from Avignon for Rome. In the first paroxysm of his
disappointment he wrote a letter to his friend, which portrays strongly
affectionate feelings, but at the same time an irascible temper. When he
came to Avignon, the Cardinal Colonna relieved him from his irritation
by acquainting him with the real cause of his brother's departure. The
flames of civil dissension had been kindled at Rome between the rival
families of Colonna and Orsini. The latter had made great preparations
to carry on the war with vigour. In this crisis of affairs, James
Colonna had been summoned to Rome to support the interests of his
family, and, by his courage and influence, to procure them the succour
which they so much required.

Petrarch continued to reside at Avignon for several years after
returning from his travels in France and Flanders. It does not appear
from his sonnets, during those years, either that his passion for Laura
had abated, or that she had given him any more encouragement than
heretofore. But in the year 1334, an accident renewed the utmost
tenderness of his affections. A terrible affliction visited the city of
Avignon. The heat and the drought were so excessive that almost the
whole of the common people went about naked to the waist, and, with
frenzy and miserable cries, implored Heaven to put an end to their
calamities. Persons of both sexes and of all ages had their bodies
covered with scales, and changed their skins like serpents.

Laura's constitution was too delicate to resist this infectious malady,
and her illness greatly alarmed Petrarch. One day he asked her
physician how she was, and was told by him that her condition was very
dangerous: on that occasion he composed the following sonnet:[E]--

This lovely spirit, if ordain'd to leave
Its mortal tenement before its time,
Heaven's fairest habitation shall receive
And welcome her to breathe its sweetest clime.
If she establish her abode between
Mars and the planet-star of Beauty's queen,
The sun will be obscured, so dense a cloud
Of spirits from adjacent stars will crowd
To gaze upon her beauty infinite.
Say that she fixes on a lower sphere,
Beneath the glorious sun, her beauty soon
Will dim the splendour of inferior stars--
Of Mars, of Venus, Mercury, and the Moon.
She'll choose not Mars, but higher place than Mars;
She will eclipse all planetary light,
And Jupiter himself will seem less bright.

I trust that I have enough to say in favour of Petrarch to satisfy his
rational admirers; but I quote this sonnet as an example of the worst
style of Petrarch's poetry. I make the English reader welcome to rate my
power of translating it at the very lowest estimation. He cannot go much
further down than myself in the scale of valuation, especially if he has
Italian enough to know that the exquisite mechanical harmony of
Petrarch's style is beyond my reach. It has been alleged that this
sonnet shows how much the mind of Petrarch had been influenced by his
Platonic studies; but if Plato had written poetry he would never have
been so extravagant.

Petrarch, on his return from Germany, had found the old Pope, John
XXII. , intent on two speculations, to both of which he lent his
enthusiastic aid. One of them was a futile attempt to renew the
crusades, from which Europe had reposed for a hundred years. The other
was the transfer of the holy seat to Rome. The execution of this plan,
for which Petrarch sighed as if it were to bring about the millennium,
and which was not accomplished by another Pope without embroiling him
with his Cardinals, was nevertheless more practicable than capturing
Jerusalem. We are told by several Italian writers that the aged Pontiff,
moved by repeated entreaties from the Romans, as well as by the remorse
of his conscience, thought seriously of effecting this restoration; but
the sincerity of his intentions is made questionable by the fact that he
never fixed himself at Rome. He wrote, it is true, to Rome in 1333,
ordering his palaces and gardens to be repaired; but the troubles which
continued to agitate the city were alleged by him as too alarming for
his safety there, and he repaired to Bologna to wait for quieter times.

On both of the above subjects, namely, the insane crusades and the more
feasible restoration of the papal court to Rome, Petrarch wrote with
devoted zeal; they are both alluded to in his twenty-second sonnet.

The death of John XXII. left the Cardinals divided into two great
factions. The first was that of the French, at the head of which stood
Cardinal Taillerand, son of the beautiful Brunissende de Foix, whose
charms were supposed to have detained Pope Clement V. in France. The
Italian Cardinals, who formed the opposite faction, had for their chief
the Cardinal Colonna. The French party, being the more numerous, were,
in some sort, masters of the election; they offered the tiara to
Cardinal de Commenges, on condition that he would promise not to
transfer the papal court to Rome. That prelate showed himself worthy of
the dignity, by refusing to accept it on such terms.

To the surprise of the world, the choice of the conclave fell at last on
James Founder, said to be the son of a baker at Savordun, who had been
bred as a monk of Citeaux, and always wore the dress of the order. Hence
he was called the White Cardinal. He was wholly unlike his portly
predecessor John in figure and address, being small in stature, pale in
complexion, and weak in voice. He expressed his own astonishment at the
honour conferred on him, saying that they had elected an ass. If we may
believe Petrarch, he did himself no injustice in likening himself to
that quadruped; but our poet was somewhat harsh in his judgment of this
Pontiff. He took the name of Benedict XII.

Shortly after his exaltation, Benedict received ambassadors from Rome,
earnestly imploring him to bring back the sacred seat to their city; and
Petrarch thought he could not serve the embassy better than by
publishing a poem in Latin verse, exhibiting Rome in the character of a
desolate matron imploring her husband to return to her. Benedict
applauded the author of the epistle, but declined complying with its
prayer. Instead of revisiting Italy, his Holiness ordered a magnificent
and costly palace to be constructed for him at Avignon. Hitherto, it
would seem that the Popes had lived in hired houses. In imitation of
their Pontiff, the Cardinals set about building superb mansions, to the
unbounded indignation of Petrarch, who saw in these new habitations not
only a graceless and unchristian spirit of luxury, but a sure indication
that their owners had no thoughts of removing to Rome.

In the January of the following year, Pope Benedict presented our poet
with the canonicate of Lombes, with the expectancy of the first prebend
which should become vacant. This preferment Petrarch is supposed to have
owed to the influence of Cardinal Colonna.

The troubles which at this time agitated Italy drew to Avignon, in the
year 1335, a personage who holds a pre-eminent interest in the life of
Petrarch, namely, Azzo da Correggio, who was sent thither by the
Scaligeri of Parma. The State of Parma had belonged originally to the
popes; but two powerful families, the Rossis and the Correggios, had
profited by the quarrels between the church and the empire to usurp the
government, and during five-and-twenty years, Gilberto Correggio and
Rolando Rossi alternately lost and won the sovereignty, till, at last,
the confederate princes took the city, and conferred the government of
it on Guido Correggio, the greatest enemy of the Rossis.

Gilbert Correggio left at his death a widow, the sister of Cane de la
Scala, and four sons, Guido, Simone, Azzo, and Giovanni. It is only with
Azzo that we are particularly concerned in the history of Petrarch.

Azzo was born in the year 1303, being thus a year older than our poet.
Originally intended for the church, he preferred the sword to the
crozier, and became a distinguished soldier. He married the daughter of
Luigi Gonzagua, lord of Mantua. He was a man of bold original spirit,
and so indefatigable that he acquired the name of Iron-foot. Nor was his
energy merely physical; he read much, and forgot nothing--his memory was
a library. Azzo's character, to be sure, even with allowance for
turbulent times, is not invulnerable at all points to a rigid scrutiny;
and, notwithstanding all the praises of Petrarch, who dedicated to him
his Treatise on a Solitary Life in 1366, his political career contained
some acts of perfidy. But we must inure ourselves, in the biography of
Petrarch, to his over-estimation of favourites in the article of morals.

It was not long ere Petrarch was called upon to give a substantial proof
of his regard for Azzo. After the seizure of Parma by the confederate
princes, Marsilio di Rossi, brother of Rolando, went to Paris to demand
assistance from the French king. The King of Bohemia had given over the
government of Parma to him and his brothers, and the Rossi now saw it
with grief assigned to his enemies, the Correggios. Marsilio could
obtain no succour from the French, who were now busy in preparing for
war with the English; so he carried to the Pope at Avignon his
complaints against the alleged injustice of the lords of Verona and the
Correggios in breaking an express treaty which they had made with the
house of Rossi.

Azzo had the threefold task of defending, before the Pope's tribunal,
the lords of Verona, whose envoy he was; the rights of his family, which
were attacked; and his own personal character, which was charged with
some grave objections. Revering the eloquence and influence of Petrarch,
he importuned him to be his public defender. Our poet, as we have seen,
had studied the law, but had never followed the profession. "It is not
my vocation," he says, in his preface to his Familiar Epistles, "to
undertake the defence of others. I detest the bar; I love retirement; I
despise money; and, if I tried to let out my tongue for hire, my nature
would revolt at the attempt. "

But what Petrarch would not undertake either from taste or motives of
interest, he undertook at the call of friendship. He pleaded the cause
of Azzo before the Pope and Cardinals; it was a finely-interesting
cause, that afforded a vast field for his eloquence. He brought off his
client triumphantly; and the Rossis were defeated in their demand.

At the same time, it is a proud trait in Petrarch's character that he
showed himself on this occasion not only an orator and a lawyer, but a
perfect gentleman. In the midst of all his zealous pleading, he stooped
neither to satire nor personality against the opposing party. He could
say, with all the boldness of truth, in a letter to Ugolino di Rossi,
the Bishop of Parma, "I pleaded against your house for Azzo Correggio,
but you were present at the pleading; do me justice, and confess that I
carefully avoided not only attacks on your family and reputation, but
even those railleries in which advocates so much delight. "

On this occasion, Azzo had brought to Avignon, as his colleague in the
lawsuit, Guglielmo da Pastrengo, who exercised the office of judge and
notary at Verona. He was a man of deep knowledge in the law; versed,
besides, in every branch of elegant learning, he was a poet into the
bargain. In Petrarch's many books of epistles, there are few letters
addressed by him to this personage; but it is certain that they
contracted a friendship at this period which endured for life.

All this time the Bishop of Lombes still continued at Rome; and, from
time to time, solicited his friend Petrarch to join him. "Petrarch would
have gladly joined him," says De Sade; "but he was detained at Avignon
by his attachment to John Colonna and his love of Laura:" a whimsical
junction of detaining causes, in which the fascination of the Cardinal
may easily be supposed to have been weaker than that of Laura. In
writing to our poet, at Avignon, the Bishop rallied Petrarch on the
imaginary existence of the object of his passion. Some stupid readers of
the Bishop's letter, in subsequent times, took it into their heads that
there was a literal proof in the prelate's jesting epistle of our poet's
passion for Laura being a phantom and a fiction. But, possible as it may
be, that the Bishop in reality suspected him to exaggerate the flame of
his devotion for the two great objects of his idolatry, Laura and St.
Augustine, he writes in a vein of pleasantry that need not be taken for
grave accusation. "You are befooling us all, my dear Petrarch," says the
prelate; "and it is wonderful that at so tender an age (Petrarch's
tender age was at this time thirty-one) you can deceive the world with
so much art and success. And, not content with deceiving the world, you
would fain deceive Heaven itself. You make a semblance of loving St.
Augustine and his works; but, in your heart, you love the poets and the
philosophers. Your Laura is a phantom created by your imagination for
the exercise of your poetry. Your verse, your love, your sighs, are all
a fiction; or, if there is anything real in your passion, it is not for
the lady Laura, but for the laurel--_that is_, the crown of poets. I
have been your dupe for some time, and, whilst you showed a strong
desire to visit Rome, I hoped to welcome you there. But my eyes are now
opened to all your rogueries, which nevertheless, will not prevent me
from loving you. "

Petrarch, in his answer to the Bishop,[F] says, "My father, if I love
the poets, I only follow, in this respect, the example of St. Augustine.
I take the sainted father himself to witness the sincerity of my
attachment to him. He is now in a place where he can neither deceive nor
be deceived. I flatter myself that he pities my errors, especially when
he recalls his own. " St. Augustine had been somewhat profligate in his
younger days.

"As to Laura," continues the poet, "would to Heaven that she were only
an imaginary personage, and my passion for her only a pastime!