eece, owing to its local and genealogical
character, was favorable to this stability, proved in Italy one of the
most potent causes of disorder. The Greek city grew up under the
protection of a local deity, whose blood had been transmitted in many
instances to the chief families of the burgh. This ancestral god gave
independence and autonomy to the State; and when the Nomothetes
appeared, he was understood to have interpreted and formulated the
inherent law that animated the body politic. Thus the commonwealth was a
divinely founded and divinely directed organism, self-sufficing, with no
dependence upon foreign sanction, with no question of its right. The
Italian cities, on the contrary, derived their law from the common _jus_
of the Imperial system, their religion from the common font of
Christianity. They could not forget their origin, wrung with difficulty
from existing institutions which preceded them and which still remained
ascendant in the world of civilized humanity. The self-reliant autonomy
of a Greek state, owing allegiance only to its protective deity and its
inherent Nomos, had no parallel in Italy outside Venice. All the other
republics were conscious of dependence on external power, and regarded
themselves as _ab initio_ artificial rather than natural creations.

Long before a true constitutional complexion had been given to any
Italian State but Venice, parties had sprung up, and taken such firm
root that the subsequent history of the republics was the record of
their factions. To this point I have already alluded; but it is too
important to be passed by without further illustration. The great
division of Guelf and Ghibelline introduced a vital discord into each
section of the people, by establishing two antagonistic theories
respecting the right of supreme government. Then followed subordinate
quarrels of the nobles with the townsfolk, schisms between the
wealthier and poorer burghers, jealousies of the artisans and merchants,
and factions for one or other eminent family. These different elements
of discord succeed each other with astonishing rapidity; and as each
gives place to another, it leaves a portion of its mischief rankling in
the body politic, until last there remains no possibility of
self-government.[1] The history of Florence, or Genoa, or Pistoja would
supply us with ample illustrations of each of these obstacles to the
formation of a solid political temperament. But Siena furnishes perhaps