ousy of state against state, of party against party, and of
family against family, held Italy in perpetual disunion; while
diplomatic habits were contracted which rendered the adoption of any
simple policy impossible. When the time came for the Italians to cope
with the great nations of Europe, the republics of Venice, Genoa, Milan,
Florence ought to have been leagued together and supported by the weight
of the Papal authority. They might then have stood against the world.
Instead of that, these cities presented nothing but mutual rancors,
hostilities, and jealousies to the common enemy. Moreover, the Italians
were so used to petty intrigues and to a system of balance of power
within the peninsula, that they could not comprehend the magnitude of
the impending danger. It was difficult for a politician of the
Renaissance, accustomed to the small theater of Italian diplomacy,
schooled in the traditions of Lorenzo de' Medici, swayed in his
calculations by the old pretensions of Pope and Emperor, dominated by
the dread of Venice, Milan, and Naples, and as yet but dimly conscious
of the true force of France or Spain, to conceive that absolutely the
only chance of Italy lay in union at any cost and under any form.
Machiavelli indeed seems too late to have discerned this truth. But he
had been lessoned by events, which rendered the realization of his
cherished schemes impossible; nor, could he find a Prince powerful
enough to attempt his Utopia. Of the Republics he had abandoned all
hope.

To the laws which governed the other republics of Italy, Venice offered
in many respects a notable exception. Divided from the rest of Italy by
the lagoons, and directed by her commerce to the Eastern shores of the
Mediterranean, Venice took no part in the factions which rent the rest
of the peninsula, and had comparatively little to fear from foreign
invasion. Her attitude was one of proud and almost scornful isolation.
In the Lombard Wars of Independence she remained neutral, and her name
does not appear among the Signataries to the Peace of Constance. Both
the Papacy and the Empire recognized her independence. Her true policy
consisted in consolidating her maritime empire and holding aloof from
the affairs of Italy. As long as she adhered to this course, she
remained the envy and the admiration of the rest of Europe.[1] It was
only when she sought to extend her hold upon the mainland that she
aroused the animosity of the Italian powers, an