Of Niccolô’s early years and education little is known. He is said to have studied under the grammarian Marcello Virgilio Adriani; and his works show wide reading in the Latin and Italian classics. But it is almost certain that he had not mastered the Greek language. In that age of humanistic erudition, it is noticeable that the three most eminent writers of the Renaissance—Machiavelli, Ariosto, and Guicciardini—owed their training to the literature of their own nation. To the defects of Machiavelli’s education, as it appeared to men of Giovio’s stamp, we may, in part at least, ascribe the peculiar vigour of his style and his speculative originality. He is free from the scholastic trifling and learned frivolity which tainted the rhetorical culture of his century. He made the world of men and things his study, learned to write his mothertongue with idiomatic conciseness, and nourished his imagination on the masterpieces of the Romans. Machiavelli shared the enthusiasm of his race and period for antiquity; but the antiquity he worshipped was confined to the commonwealth of Rome. Not the arts, the letters, and the philosophy of the Greeks, but the Latin histories in which the statecraft and organization of the Romans are described, arrested his attention. His habit of thought is marked throughout by a strong Latin bias.

The year 1494, the year of Charles VIII.’s invasion and of the Medici’s expulsion from Florence, saw Machiavelli’s first entrance into public life. He was appointed clerk in the second chancery of the commune under his old master Marcello Virgilio Adriani. Early in 1498 Adriani became chancellor of the republic, and Machiavelli received his vacated office with the rank of second chancellor and secretary. This post he retained till the year 1512. The masters he had to serve were the Dieci di Libertà e Pace, who, though subordinate to the signoria, exercised a separate control over the departments of war and the interior. They sent their own ambassadors to foreign powers, transacted business with the cities of the Florentine domain, and controlled the military establishment of the commonwealth. The next fourteen years of Machiavelli’s life were fully occupied in the voluminous correspondence of his bureau, in diplomatic missions of varying importance, and in the organization of a Florentine militia. It would be tedious and uninstructive to follow him through all his embassies to petty courts of Italy, the first of which took place in 1499, when he was sent to negotiate the continuance of a loan to Catherine Sforza, countess of Forli and Imola. A more important mission followed in 1500, when Machiavelli travelled into France, to deal with Louis XII. about the affairs of Pisa. It is enough to say in general that these embassies were the school in which Machiavelli formed his political opinions, and gathered views regarding the state of Europe and the relative strength of nations. They not only introduced him to the subtleties of Italian diplomacy, but also extended his observation over races very different from the Italians in their social and constitutional development. He thus, in the course of his official business, gradually acquired principles and settled ways of thinking which he afterwards expressed in writing. He was at no time a philosopher or man of letters by profession, and when he came to write he gave to the world the condensed result of practical experience, combined with meditations on the Latin historians, rather than a methodical system.

His office obliged him from time to time to draw up proposals and memorials on questions of the day, which he presented to the Dieci. One of these, on the affairs of Pisa, belongs to 1499; a second, on the condition of Pistoia, to 1501; a third, of more general importance, on the right way of dealing with the rebels of Valdichiana, to 1502. In this last-named document some of the points of view which stamp his later works with a distinctive character emerge into prominence. We find him seeking parallels and precepts in Roman history, laying down the axiom that human nature is identical throughout the ages, exposing the futility of half measures, and finally appealing to Cesare Borgia as a model of political sagacity. It is clear from this brief and early composition that Machiavelli had already formed the habits of thought which distinguish him. He has begun to idealize Borgia’s policy. He interweaves historical reflexions with contemporary analysis, using the past to illustrate the present, and expounding practical doctrine from texts derived from Livy. There is also noticeable the uncompromising spirit of the man, who was destined afterwards in the Principe to subordinate all minor considerations of morality and conduct to the one object of political attainment.

In the year 1502 Machiavelli married Marietta Corsini, the wife who bore him several children, with whom, in spite of his own infidelities, he lived on good terms, and who survived him twenty-six years. In the same year Piero Soderini was chosen gonfalonier for life, in accordance with certain changes in the constitution of the state, which were intended to bring Florence closer to the Venetian type of government. This was an important event in Machiavelli’s career, for he now became intimately connected with Soderini, assisted him in carrying out his policy, suggested important measures of military reform which Soderini adopted, and finally was involved in ruin by his fall. Machiavelli, it may be said in passing, had the qualities of a good servant and a practical official. He remained faithful to Soderini through the difficulties of his later years of power, and spoke well of him subsequently. Yet he was a severe critic, blaming the gonfalonier for weakness of administration and half measures; and, when he died, he indulged in a sarcastic epigram on his old master which does less honour to his loyalty than to his wit.

The year 1502 was marked by yet another decisive incident in Machiavelli’s life. In October he was sent, much against his will, as envoy to the camp of Cesare Borgia, or duke of Valentino, as he was now called. The duke was then in Romagna, and it was Machiavelli’s duty to wait upon and watch him. He was able now to observe those intricate intrigues which culminated in Cesare’s seizure of Sinigaglia and the treacherous murder of his disaffected captains. From what remains of Machiavelli’s letters to the Dieci during this period, and from his tract upon the Modo tenuto dal Duca Valentino ηelV ammazzare Vitellozzo Vitelli, we are able to appreciate the actual relations which existed between the two men, and the growth in Machiavelli’s mind of a political ideal based upon his study of the duke’s character. Machiavelli was a mere spectator and critic, by no means an adviser of the duke. He seems to have been even weary and uneasy in the network of hypocrisy and crime in which he found himself,—refreshing his spirits with jocular letters to his private friends, and with the study of a Plutarch which they sent him. He was also able to stigmatize the Borgia’s conduct from a conventional point of view, as is proved by his calling him a “basilisk” and “hydra” in his DecennaU. Yet he conceived the strongest admiration for his combination of audacity with diplomatic prudence, for his adroit use of cruelty and fraud, for his self-reliance, avoidance of half measures, employment of native troops, and firm administration in conquered provinces. More than once, in letters to his friend Vettori, no less than in the pages of the Principe, he afterwards expressed his belief that Cesare Borgia’s behaviour in the conquest of provinces, the cementing of a new state out of scattered elements, and the dealing with false friends or doubtful allies, was worthy of all commendation and of scrupulous imitation. Hydra and basilisk were terms, not of reproach, but of panegyric, on the lips of the writer who warned his prince to acquire the nature of the fox and of the lion, who spoke familiarly of frodi onorevoli, scelleratezze gloriose, and whose conception of Virtu was self-reliant ability. As he watched Cesare Borgia at this, the most brilliant period of his adventurous career, the man became idealized in his reflective but imaginative mind. Round him, as a hero, he allowed his own conceptions of the perfect prince to cluster. There was so much in the conduct of the duke which exactly fitted with those conceptions, so much of that ideal had conversely been derived at first hand from the duke himself, that the hero and the adventurer were, as it were, confounded. That Machiavelli separated the actual Cesare Borgia, whom he afterwards saw, ruined and contemptible, at Rome, from this radiant creature of his political fancy, is probable. That the Cesare of history does not exactly match the Duca Valentino of Machiavelli’s writings is certain. Still the fact remains that henceforth Machiavelli cherished the ideal image of the statesman which he had modelled upon Cesare, and called this by the name of Valentino.

On his return to Florence early in January 1503, Machiavelli began to occupy himself with a project he had long since formed, and which his recent attendance upon Cesare Borgia had strengthened in his mind. The duties of his office obliged him to study the conditions of military service as they then existed in Italy. He was familiar with the disadvantages under which republics laboured when they engaged professional captains of adventure and levied mercenary troops. The bad faith of the condottiere Paolo Vitelli (beheaded at Florence in 1499) had deeply impressed him. In the war with Pisa he had observed the insubordination and untrustworthiness of soldiers gathered from the dregs of different districts, serving under egotistical and irresponsible commanders. His reading in Livy taught him to admire the Roman system of employing armies raised from the body of the citizens; and Cesare Borgia’s method of gradually substituting the troops of his own duchy for aliens and mercenaries showed him that this plan might be adopted with success by the Italians. He was now determined, if possible, to furnish Florence with a national militia. The gonfalonier Soderini entered into his views. But obstacles of no small magnitude arose. First came the financial difficulties in which the Government was then involved. The suspicion and jealousy of the Florentines had also to be encountered. Some of them feared lest Soderini, if he armed the commonwealth, would aspire to tyranny. All alike were adverse to arming the population of subject cities like Arezzo and Cortona; for it must be remembered that an Italian republic ruled its province with the despotism of an autocrat, and the towns beneath its sway were always panting for independence. The question of money was immediately pressing. Early in 1503 Machiavelli drew up for Soderini a speech, Discorso sulla provisione del Danaro, in which the duty and necessity of liberal expenditure for the protection of the state were expounded upon principles of sound political philosophy. Between this date and the last month of 1506 Machiavelli laboured at his favourite scheme, working out memorials on the subject for his office, and suggesting the outlines of a new military organization. On the 6th of December 1506 his plan was approved by the signory, and a special ministry, called the Nove di Ordinaηza e Milizia, was appointed. Machiavelli immediately became their secretary. The country districts of the Florentine dominion were now divided into departments, and levies of foot soldiers were made in order to secure a standing militia. A commanderin-chief had to be chosen for the new troops. Italian jealousy shrank from conferring this important office on a Florentine, lest one member of the state should acquire a power dangerous to the whole. The choice of Soderini and Machiavelli fell, at this juncture, upon an extremely ineligible person, none other than Don Micheletto, Cesare Borgia’s cut-throat and assassin. It is necessary to insist upon this point, since it serves to illustrate a radical infirmity in Machiavelli’s genius. While forming and promoting his scheme, he was actuated by principles of political wisdom and by the purest patriotism. But he failed to perceive that such a ruffian as Micheletto could not inspire the troops of Florence with that devotion to their country and that healthy moral tone which should distinguish a patriot army. Here, as elsewhere, he revealed his insensibility to the ethical element in human nature. Knowing that Don Micheletto had worked well for Cesare Borgia, accustomed to disregard private morality as insignificant in public conduct, he was satisfied to entrust the discipline and education of his raw militia to a notorious villain. His indifference to personal ethics led him now into a practical blunder, as it afterwards vitiated his political writings with a philosophical error.

Meanwhile Italy had been the scene of memorable events, in most of which Machiavelli took some part. Alexander VI. had died suddenly of fever. Julius II. had ascended the papal chair. The duke Valentino had been checked in mid-career of conquest. Machiavelli was sent to Rome during the conclave, when he renewed his intercourse with Cesare Borgia. On this occasion he seems to have felt nothing but contempt for the hero of his dreams, who had sunk into insignificance and almost abject submission. The collapse of the Borgias threw Central Italy into confusion; and Machiavelli had, in 1505, to visit the Baglioni at Perugia and the Petrucci at Siena. In the following year he accompanied Julius upon his march through Perugia into the province of Emilia, where the fiery pope subdued in person the rebellious cities of the church. U pon these embassies Machiavelli represented the Florentine Dieci in quality of envoy. It was his duty to keep the ministry informed by means of frequent despatches and reports. All this while the war for the recovery of Pisa was slowly dragging on, with no success or honour to the Florentines. Machiavelli had to attend the camp and provide for levies amid his many other occupations. And yet he found time for private literary work. In the autumn of 1504 he began his Decennali, or Annals of Italy, a poem composed in rough terza rima, and now remembered only for one line describing the courage of Piero Capponi, when he defied Charles VIII. to his face in 1495 :—

“Lo strepito dell’ armi e de’ cavalli, Non potè far ch» non fosse sentita La voce d’un Cappon fra cento Galli.”

About the same time he composed a comedy on the model of Aristophanes, which is unfortunately lost. It seems to have been called Le Haschere. Giuliano de’ Ricci tells us it was marked by stringent satire upon great ecclesiastics and statesmen, no less than by a tendency to “ascribe all human things to natural causes or to fortune.” That phrase accurately describes the prevalent bias of its author’s mind.

The greater part of 1506 and 1507 was spent in organizing the new militia, corresponding on the subject, and scouring the country on enlistment service. But at the end of the latter year European affairs of no small moment diverted Machiavelli from these humbler duties. Maximilian was planning a journey into Italy in order to be crowned emperor at Rome, and was levying subsidies from the imperial burghs for his expenses. The Florentines thought his demands excessive. Though they already Ind Francesco Vettori at his court, Soderini judged it advisable to send Machiavelli thither in December. He travelled by Geneva, all through Switzerland, to Botzen, where he found the emperor.

This journey was an important moment in his life. It enabled, him to study the Swiss and the Germans in their homes; and the report which he wrote on his retura, Rαppοrtο di Cose della Magna, reckons among his most effective political studies. Instead of confining his attention to the analysis of parties or the portraits of eminent persons in the countries he had traversed, Machiavelli strove to estimate the essential elements of national success or failure. The antique sobriety of the Swiss, their absolute equality and independence, their efficient national militia, inspired him with such admiration that henceforth the Swiss appeared to him the model of modera nations and the most formidable among the neighbours of the Italians. He pointed out that the strength of Germany lay in the free cities, while the emperor was weakened, not only by his own indecisive character and want of funds, but by the jealousy of the feudal princes. The German princes, the burghs, and the empire being ill-accorded, and the Swiss being hostile to all alike, this vast nation lacked the force which its excellent morality, sober living, and vigorous military organization ought to have secured it. What is most remarkable in Machiavelli’s report is his concentrated effort to realize the exact political weight of the German nation, and to penetrate the causes of its strength and weakness. He attempts to grasp the national character as a whole, and thence to deduce practical conclusions. Certain mistakes he undoubtedly made. He treated the Swiss, for example, too much as though they were a part of Germany. He exaggerated the simplicity and sobriety of the race at large, seemingly inspired by Tacitus, and inflamed in his own imagination by sympathy with a people who realized his cherished dreams of national health. His indifference to ecclesiastical questions prevented him from discerning the crisis of the Reformation, which was on the verge of precipitating Germany into the discord of religious wars. Yet, allowing for these drawbacks, we are astonished by the insight into details and the co-ordinating faculty which enabled this Italian to draw so discriminating and animated a portrait of the Germans for the benefit of his republic.

The same great qualities are noticeable in his Ritratti delle Cose di Francia, which he drew up after an embassy to Louis XII. at Blois in 1510. These notes upon the French race are more scattered than the report on German affairs. But they reveal no less acumen combined with imaginative penetration into the very essence of national existence. He points out that the special strength of France lies in her centralization. The monarch is surrounded by obedient feudal vassals, the most powerful of whom are of the royal blood. They in their turn draw their wealth from the people. Feudalism, an element of discord in Germany, has been converted into monarchy, and become the cohesive bond of society in France. On the other hand, this centralization contains a grave element of danger for the future of France. The people are ground down and have no liberty. Machiavelli points out how, in these circumstances, the pith of the French army is its chivalry, and why the king is always obliged to hire German and Swiss infantry for his wars. The Ritratli abound in pointed observations upon the French character which is well contrasted with that of the Spaniards. But what constitutes the originality of this tract is Machiavelli’s determination to realize to himself and to his readers the political value of the French people as a whole, and thus to form a solid basis for judging of its probable behaviour in the future. In this case, as in the case of Germany, he attempts to estimate the physical, moral, and intellectual capacity of an antagonist with whom his country has to grapple. It may be said that, with France as with Germany, he wholly omits the possibilities of religious perturbation.

While engaged upon this topic, it may be well to mention that Machiavelli displayed exactly the same force of analysis in. laying bare the central causes of weakness in Italy itself. The disarmament of the population by selfish despots and indolent republics; the consequent growth of a vicious mercenary system; the dismemberment of the nation into petty, mutually jealous parcels, due for the most part to the selfishness of Rome; the loss of antique sobriety in manners, and the almost total corruption of the people, fostered and encouraged by their debauched spiritual leaders,—these, he says, are the causes which have made Italy “more enslaved than the Hebrews, more downtrodden than the Persians, more disunited than the Athenians.”...