l
works which they were certain could not see the light during their
lives! They nobly determined that their works should be posthumous,
rather than be compelled to mutilate them for the press. These
historians were rather the saints than the martyrs of history; they did
not always personally suffer for truth, but during their protracted
labour they sustained their spirit by anticipating their glorified
after-state.

Among these Italian historians must be placed the illustrious
Guicciardini, the friend of Machiavel. No perfect edition of this
historian existed till recent times. The history itself was posthumous;
nor did his nephew venture to publish it till twenty years after the
historian's death. He only gave the first sixteen books, and these
castrated. The obnoxious passages consisted of some statements relating
to the papal court, then so important in the affairs of Europe; some
account of the origin and progress of the papal power; some eloquent
pictures of the abuses and disorders of that corrupt court; and some
free caricatures on the government of Florence. The precious fragments
were fortunately preserved in manuscript, and the Protestants procured
transcripts which they published separately, but which were long very
rare.[112] All the Italian editions continued to be reprinted in the
same truncated condition, and appear only to have been reinstated in the
immortal history so late as in 1775! Thus, it required two centuries
before an editor could venture to give the world the pure and complete
text of the manuscript of the lieutenant-general of the papal army, who
had been so close and so indignant an observer of the Roman cabinet.

Adriani, whom his son entitles _gentiluomo Fiorentino_, the writer of
the pleasing dissertation "on the Ancient Painters noticed by Pliny,"
prefixed to his friend Vasari's biographies, wrote as a continuation of
Guicciardini, a history of his own times in twenty-two books, of which
Denina gives the highest character for its moderate spirit, and from
which De Thou has largely drawn, and commends for its authenticity. Our
author, however, did not venture to publish his history during his
lifetime: it was after his death that his son became the editor.

Nardi, of a noble family and high in office, famed for a translation of
Livy which rivals its original in the pleasure it affords, in his
retirement from public affairs wrote a history of Florence, which closes
with the loss of the