SEP 16 1918 DG 131 .SI .H47 1843 Heraud, John A. 1799-1887 The life and times of Girolamo Savonarola Digitized by tine Internet Archive in 2015 littps://arcliive.org/details/lifetimesofgirolOOIiera THE LIFE AND TIMES OF GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA. COLLECTED FROM ORIGINAL SOURCES. roNDOK : GILBERT & KIVINGTON, PRIHTERS, ST. John's square. THE LIFE AND TIMEJ7,];;^^, /^v>' OF f ...... GIROLAMO SAVON^JiCflSr ILLUSTRATING THE PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION IN ITALY, DURING THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. " La vita sua, la dottriiia, il soggetto che prese, eraiio suliicieiiti a fargli prestave fede." — ^Niccol6 Maciiiavelh. " The World knows nothing of its Greatest Men."— Henrv Taylor. LONDON: WHITTAKER AND CO. AVE MARIA LANE. 1843. PREFACE. At Naumberg, on his way to the diet of Worms, Luther made the acquaintance of a certain zealous priest, who carefully and reverentially preserved in bis closet the portrait of Girolamo Savonarola, the monk of Florence, though more as a martyr to liberty and morality, than as a religious confessor. The good priest, however, perceived enough resemblance between the Italian and the German, to draw the attention of the latter to this sacred memento. Silently producing the cherished painting, he held the same awhile before the eyes of Luther, who as silently perused it ; but nothing daunted, conceived rather courage than fear from the lesson it presented. The mighty Reformer seems in consequence to have studied the works of his less fortunate predecessor, and in the year 1523 published the Exposition by Savonarola, of the fifty- first and thirty-first Psalms ; in the preface to it ex- A o vi PREFACE. pressing his recognition and reverence of the author, as one of like mind with himself. This, as well as the spirit of several of the writings of Savonarola which had become known, his earnest denunciation of the ruin of the Romish Church, and the consequent fate prepared for him by the infamous Alexander VI., wakened the liveliest interest for the Italian martyr in the friends of the Reformation. They counted him among the witnesses of the truth, named him the Luther of Italy, alfectionately esteeming it of singular importance, as a coincidence, that Savon- arola had commenced preaching in the same yeai (1483), in which Luther was born. Thus says Flacius in particular, whose judgement was echoed by Beza, Wolf, Hottinger, Heidegger, Arnold, Fabricius, andGERDEs, down to the middle of the 18th century. So late as in the 16th century, were seve- ral productions of Savonarola translated by Regius, Spangenberg, and others : the latter also wrote his liistory, in which he gave the greatest praise to his integrity and wonderful stedfastness. In an equal spirit of veneration, although on quite other ac- counts, the companions of his Order, the Domini- cans, even in the Romish Church continued to glorify him ; when a writer who had separated from their community sought to irritate his former brothers, by daring the first really important attack on the orthodoxy and prophetic gifts of this their PREFACE. vn member, whom they so honoured, and reckoned as a saint. Hostility to the Order to which he had formerly belonged, perhaps also the endeavour to wrest from the ' Lutheran heretics' (of whom he speaks with bitterness in the dedication prefixed) one more historical weapon against the Romish Church, occasioned Ambrosio Catharino Polito, who was already known by other controversial writings, in particular that against the scarcely deceased Cardinal Cajetanus, to attack the doctrine and prophecies of Savonarola, which he sought to represent as pre- sumptive, erroneous, false, lying, self-contradictory, scandalous, and sufficiently refuted by his own revo- cation of them ; — which revocation however, as the reader of the following biography will perceive, never really existed. On the other hand, Savonarola maintained the splendour of a saint in the ecclesias- tical annals of Abraham Bzovius, Raynaldus, and Natal Alexander, who were at least useful to his- tory by the publication of different documents ; while the Dominican Quetif first undertook to rescue the honour of Savonarola, attacked by Catharino, on the basis of copious collections from original sources. During the life of Savonarola, enthusiastic rever- ence, and passionately hostile opposition, contended for his name ; after his death, the most different judgments on him were repeated. Giovanni Fran- viii PRKFACE. CISCO Pico della Mirandola, who, as a confidential friend of Savonarola, might in his biography of him have afforded the truest image, gave, with several useful notices, almost a mere panegyric, the offspring of admiration and superstitious reverence, which con- cludes with a long and elaborate parallel between Savonarola and Christ, and bears throughout the character of partiality. The mention of Savonarola made by the French historian Comines, who possessed a sufficient know- ledge of the facts, and was convinced no less of his honesty than of his prophetic gift, is candid, sin- cere, and critical. The celebrated Machiavelli on the contrary represents the latter as problematic, but the former as commanding veneration, and accounts for Savonarola's ruin, by supposing that he did not understand how to be, or was incapable of being, the ' master of envy.' Savonarola's other biographer, BuRLAMACCHi, was of the Order of Dominicans, and out of reverence for Savonarola, soon after his death, wrote the life of his idol (1519), in the same spirit with Pico della Mirandola, though on better grounds, and more supported by facts, but encum- bered with miraculous relations which bespeak the superstition of the period. Other writers, less closely connected with the times and the man, have given different opinions, according to their sect or party. GuicciARDiNi, a tolerably impartial relator, col- PREFACE. ix lected the different opinions and narratives, and thereby, (especially as he carefully suppressed his own views,) was better entitled to demand a more equitable judgment from posterity, than has been generally awarded. Nardi, though recognizing decidedly the laudable endeavours of Savonarola, in his attempted moral, religious, and clerical reforms, still found his political theocratic plans and hopes too little suited to the circumstances of the times, and taken up with- out sufficient consideration. Nerli, albeit not for- getting himself, so as to fall into the injustice of passion, still perceived only the monk who sought an undue influence in the government of the State, and wished to transfer it from the hands of the nobi- lity into those of the people ; to which decision also Giovio in some degree assents, though from his other excellent qualities, he esteemed Savonarola not deserving of so ignominious a death. Savonarola, meanwhile, was never judged more severely or more unjustly, than by John Francis BoDDEUS, who with wanton criticism sought to render suspicious the testimonies of Comines and Guicciar- dini as partial ; and insidiously followed, as unsus- picious sources, the accounts of the papal journalist BuRCHARD, and the printed acts of the process, which were stiU further enlarged by inculpatory con- jectures. He represented Savonarola as a cunning exciter of sedition, who in the politically entangled X PREFACE. circumstances of Florence knew how to avail himself of great eloquence, and diligently nourished the super- stition of the people for his own ambitious plans. In this conclusion, Gabriel Naude concurred with equally unproved assertions, while Buddeus saw him- self compelled, by closer examination of history, to retract his former opinion, since he recognized the in- tegrity and innocence of Savonarola, but yet accused him of too great participation in political events. More influential were Bayle's acute remarks, which, however unjust and hypercritical they must appear, compared with history, not only occasioned Christian Eberhard Weismann to retract his former favourable judgment of Savonarola, but moreover found too easy an echo among the friends of the newly awakened criticism. In Italy there appeared, after a flimsy attack, founded chiefly on the printed process, an anonymous defence and history of Savonarola, sup- ported by copious corroborations from the his- torians of that time, as also from his own writings. A biography of Savonarola, which appeared at the beginning of the 19th century, sought to unite the contradictory testimonies of history, in the description that Savonarola was ambitious, fanatical, and daring, but nevertheless a very learned, pious, mild, and well-meaning man. The previous judgment of ScHRCECKH might be found more satisfactory, who, without acquitting him of self-deception and fanatical PREFACE. xi or enthusiastic piety, recognized in his writings, his religious feeling, and his deep penetration into the sins of the time, which he fearlessly denounced, the nohle seeds of true piety derived from Scripture, whereby he in more than one respect opened the path to the Reformers, who named him with gratitude, and was himself well worthy of better times and a better fate. Yet old doubts and prejudices emerged again in many forms, as long as its full right and satisfaction was not rendered to history. Ammon, indeed, sought to lay down the principles of Savona- rola's theology, from some of his chief writings ; but the loudly-heard voice of history described him as the passionately-excited. and exciting monk who, with- out fundamental learning and deeper knowledge of the science of theology, was not able to understand the nature of the Romish Church any more than that of the State. In English literature, with the exception of God- win's Lives of the Necromancers, little or nothing of any mark exists in regard to Savonarola ; and even that is merely a sceptical deduction, not at all admissible by a Christian believer. Roscoe, in- deed, in his Life of Lorenzo de Medici, gives a garbled statement of Savonarola's proceedings, introducing him always as a vulgar fanatic, who by his blunders de- prived Florence of the excellent constitution and asthe- tic cultivation, which it would otherwise have enjoyed xii PREFACE. under the family of the Medici. This position, how- ever, is too absurd to req^iire refutation at this day, when the finger of Providence in all that served to initiate the reformation of the Church is so generally recognized, and the demoralized state of Italy, and the papal see in particular, conceded by every one who treats the history of the period with any show of sincerity. In Germany no fewer than three elaborate lives of Savonarola have appeared in the last six years, by RuDELBACH, Meier, and Rapp. It is worthy remark, that a man, the events of whose life are of a character so wonderfully unique, or only to be paralleled — in the estimation of Machiavelli — with those in the lives of Numa, Solon, Lycurgus, and Moses, should have been so cursorily passed over by English biographers, and have held so small a space in general history. The reason is to be found in this, that though his cause in part ultimately prospered, yet in himself Savonarola, unlike Luther, was not successful. The greatest men thus circumstanced are almost unknown to general reputation ; but for that reason their lives are the more valuable, and should be prized as choice and rare by the reader of cultivated understanding and refined taste. In addition to the authorities already indicated, the writer of the following biography has availed himself of many other sources of fact and opinion ; a few may be mentioned, notes and references to the authori- PREFACE. XIII ties consulted being omitted, from a desire, not only to avoid unnecessary display in that kind, but to dimi- nish as much as possible the size and weight of a work intended for popular perusal. — E. g. Bene- detto, Razzi, Bottoni, Piero Marco di Parenti, Ammiratt, Segni, Muratori, Tiraboschi, Cres- ciMBENi, Varchi, Neri, Bandini, Valori, Varil- LAs, PiERio Valeriano, Beneviene, Tommasi, SisMONDi, Meyerhoff, Gordon, Waddington, D'AcBiGNE, &c. &c. Though small in compass, the following Life of Savonarola contains more facts of his history, and more extracts from his writings, than exist in any other or in all the memoirs and biographies of him hitherto written. Nothing in it has been mis- stated or overcharged, but the whole subject treated, in its theological, political, and philosophical bear- ings, with the utmost impartiality that the author could command. We now know that the work in which Savonarola engaged, notwithstanding its tem- porary failure, was of God, and not to be attributed to any one person, however conspicuous in its direc- tion. The great Protestant Reformation, thus divinely appointed, thus prepared at divers times and in dif- ferent places for its developement, is now felt to be a living thing with a principle of growth in it, well rooted in a genial soil, and nourished with all such influences as promote longevity and productiveness. a xiv PREFACE. But some have lately become ashamed of the term Protestant, as if it were a negation only, commissioned to destroy, and not at all to build. As members of the Protestant Church of England, we can permit no such merely negative meaning to a word which has passed into ecclesiastical formularies, parliamentary acts and documents, royal declarations, and corona- tion oaths. That it is destructive only, is refuted by these facts — involving greater ones — that it has a Church and State, nay. Churches and States, of its own ; it has therefore tended to edification, nay, it has edified ; it is accordingly an affirmative exist- ence, and negates nothing but the corruptions and abuses of a preceding order, that had fallen into decay and refused to be repaired. Moreover, it has long ceased to oppose the Church of Rome, it now seeks only to supersede her ; on the other hand, Rome, by resisting reform, became Protestant, in the negative sense of the term, which she has still continued to be, having no abuses and corruptions in the Church of the Reforma- tion to denounce, or which she has cared to denounce, or, in fact, been able to denounce, knowing how easily she might be recriminated upon. Consequently, the Protestant attitude is maintained by Rome, at the expense of her own catholicity ; but by the Anglican Church, to the gain and increase of her's. On this and other accounts, she is entitled to take her place as a co-ordinate and independent institution. PREFACE. XV It is for these reasons that the present writer is inclined to object most strenuously to the Church of England being considered as a mere via media — be- tween the papacy at the one extreme, and ultra pro- testantism at the other. This is at best to degrade the Church of England from a high catholic, to a mere syncretic condition, not at all desirable, and even pre- judicial. There are proofs enough, in the following Life, that the two extremes, of which the Church of England is supposed to be the mean, exist, and have always existed, in the Church of Rome herself — Apos- tolicism on the one hand, and even Atheism on the other. Similar opposites are found in the Church of the Reformation at large, together with every shade of opinion between high- church Episcopacy and So- cinian dissent ; and the Church of England con- fessedly includes every variety of faith, from New- manism to Calvinism. We thus see two or more complete orbs forming part, it may be, of the same general system, but each distinguished from the other, and maintaining its separate integrity, having its own revolutions and distinct sphere of existence. The true via media, therefore, is not to be sought in any one entire Church, as the centre between that and other Churches, but in each Church, as the point of agreement, where all her members meet in con- formity. There is a large moderate party in the Anglican Church connecting the two extremes, which, a 2 xvi PREFACE. ill fact, represents her true spirit and tendency as an institution, the tenets of which are abstracted, not only from her Articles (subject, as these prove to be, to every variety of interpretation), her formularies, and the authoritative interpretations of her bishops and clergy, but also from the Holy Scriptures them- selves, and the comments of men of letters in general ; to which should be added, the influence of moral essayists, critics, historians, philosophers, and poets, all whose works have great authority with the educated mind, and modify even its religious convictions. Every work designed for the perusal of this large class of Christians must imply every one of these data among the principles of its construction, without which it will equally fail to accomplish the demands of intelligence and the ends of charity. CONTENTS. BOOK THE FIRST. ?^ i storj). CHAPTER I. THE CHILDHOOD OF SAVONAROLA. PAGE The Church disunited — Nicholas V. — Superstitious prac- tices — Family and birth of Savonarola — Tutored by his grandfather Michele — Physiology and psychology — Mysticism embodied in Italian life and art — Calixtus III. — Pius III. — Canonization of Catherine of Sienna — Probable influence of such circumstances on the infant miud of Savonarola 3 CHAPTER n. THE BOYHOOD OP SAVONAROLA. Savonarola taught after ten years of age by his Father — By professional teachers — His rapid progress — Ac- quaintance with Aristotle and Plato — Wherein they apparently differ to the exoteric student from St. John — A 3 xviii CONTENTS. Savonarola studies Thomas Aquinas — Primitive teach- ing of the Apostles — Savonarola's dissatisfaction with the world, and his determination to be a monk — The Dominican Order — The rationale of monastic institu- tions — Savonarola a disappointed lover — His early character and habits 18 CHAPTER III. THE MANHOOD OF SAVO.NAROLA. Savonarola's poetic studies — His religious enthusiasm — ■ Difference between his and his father's dispositions — State of the world and the Chui'ch — Specimen of Savon- arola's IjTic poetry — Festival of St. George at FeiTara —Savonarola enters the monastery at Bologna— Letter to his father 32 BOOK THE SECOND. Mot tt int. CHAPTER I. SAVONAROLA A LAY- BROTHER. Savonarola in the monastery employed in teaching the scholastic philosophy — Studies Jerome, Augustine, and Cassian — Hesitates to accept priest's orders — His pro- bable reasons — Augustine's doctrines — Primitive idea of the Church — Savonarola and Luther contrasted . . 49 CHAPTER n. SAVONAROLA A PRIEST. Savonarola always a Reformer — Extracts from his earliest poems — Monastic, not Christian, life — Old and New Testament — Church authority and the Bible — Digres- CONTENTS. xix sion on Chillingworth — Who are Apostles in the priest- hood ? — True Catholic Apostolicity — Extract from Sa- vonarola's ' Trion della Croce' — Prayer — Meritorious obedience — Power of his conversation- — Penitent Sol- diers — Preaches first in the church of Lorenzo at Flo- rence — Returns to his monastery 67 CHAPTER III. SAVONAEOLA — A PKEACHER. Savonarola in Lombardy — Expounds the Apocalypse- Babylon a patristic tj'pe of Rome — Essential differen- ces between the Gospel of Christ and the religion of Christians — Sixtus III. and Innocent VIII. — Savon- arola preaches at Brescia, and denounces impending destruction to the apostate Church of Rome — His pro- phetic claims — Studies and writings 86 BOOK THE THIRD, practice. CHAPTER I. SAVONAROLA A OONTEMPI.ATIST. Savonarola considered as a Prophet — The doctrinal value of prayer — The practical evidence of faith — Savonarola at Reggio — Invited to Florence 107 CHAPTER II. FLORENCE UNDER THE MEDICI. The family of the Medici — Cosimo's patronage of Greek literature — Chrysoloras and his scholars — Niccolo Nic- coli — Platonic academy — Theodore Gaza — Bessarion — XX CONTENTS. George of Trebizond — Grerm of monarchism — Pietro — Lorenzo and Giuliano — Ckjnspiracy of the Pazzi — Lo- renzo and the King of Naples — Decline of the wealth of the Medici — And consequently of its influence — Levity and frivolity of the literary spirit — Poggio — Beccatelli — And the controversiaUsts — Naturalism in art — Politeness in philosophy — Sensuahty in life and manners 114 CHAPTER III. SAVONAROLA AT SAN MARCO. Library of San Marco — Savonarola's lectures — Lorenzo's encouragement of ecclesiastical oratory — Mariano de Genezano. The poUcy of Lorenzo — The character of the times — Savonarola's Garden-Sermon — His style of preaching — Is made prior — Refuses to acknowledge Loreuzu's authority — Lorenzo's condescensions — All in vain — Savonarola inflexible — Macliiavelli's opinion on Roman religiosity, human probity — Savonarola's influ- ence 121 CHAPTER IV. DEATH OF LORE.NZO DE' MEDICI. Description of Savonarola's person — His rival, the preacher Mariano da Genezano — Monastic reform — Novices' conversation — Savonarola's abstemious habits — Rebukes two abbots — His chastity — Visits Bologna — The princess Bentevoglio — Humility — Personal ora- tory — The Bible — Prediction of the Scotirge — State of Christendom — Relative positions of Lorenzo and Sa- vonarola — Three political factions — Lorenzo's sickness, interview with Savonarola, and death — Savonarola's vision 140 CHAPTER V. INVASION OF CHARLES VIII. Apparent prosperity of Florence at the death of Lorenzo — Civil contest — Savonarola's prominence — Pietro de CONTENTS. XXI Medici's feeble rule — Death of Pope Innocent VIII. — Infamous character of Pope Alexander VI. — Satan in the seat of Christ— Charles VIII. of Friince— Con- duct of Pietro — Savonarola's speech to the King at Lucca — Pietro's expulsion from Florence — Charles VIII. and the Pisans — Charles VIII. and the Floren- tines — Savonarola's i-emonstrances — The departure of the French 162 CHAPTER VI. Savonarola's influence. Reform of the monasteries — New monastic society — Sa- vonarola's pastoral habits — The devotees of his elo- quence — Valori and Alberti — Legends regardmg Savo- narola — Specimens of his maturer poetry — Practical and devotional works — Epistolary correspondence — He collects the people to consult on the fonn of govern- ment 178 CHAPTER Vn. SAVONAROLA A LEGISLATOR. Theocracy — Democracy — Aristocracy — Soderini — Ves- pucci — Savonarola's political views — Fra Domenico da Ponzo — ^Ecclesiastical reform — Education — Democra- tic movements — Committee of Eighty 197 CHAPTER Vni. THE PROPHET OF FLORENCE AND THE POPE OF ROME. Relative position of Savonarola, and the reigning Pope, and the clergy — His prevision of martyrdom — His per- petual testimony against the abuses and apostasy of the Church — Conspu-acy of the Medici and Fi-a Mariano de Genezano at Rome against him — Called by the Pope to preach at Lucca — Appeal against this of the Floren- tine magistracy and Signory — PeiTiiitted accordingly to remain at Florence — Subsequent conduct — Agita- tion of the Pope 220 CONTENTS, CHAPTER IX. CITATION TO ROME. PAGE Florence and Pisa — Domestio policy of the former — Sa- vonarola's letter to Charles VIII. betrayed to Alex- ander VI. — Pope's citation — Savonarola's sickness — Suspends and resumes his pastoral duties — Social re- forms — Increasing reputation — Singular carnival — Auto-da-fe of works of art, &c. — Injurious conse- quences —Self-examinations — The troubler of Italy ? — Ludovico 244 CHAPTER X. SECOND CITATION. Political changes— Emperor Maximilian — Alexander VI. — An individual Pope fallible — Savonarola sarcastic — Cited a second time to Rome — Papal brief — Savona- rola's defensive epistle — Addresses the people by com- mand of the Signory — Increased extravagances at the carnival of 1497 — Spiritual dances — Signs and wonders 262 CHAPTER XI. EXCOMMUNICATION. Savonarola appeals to the princes of the earth for a coun- cil of the Church — Luilovico Sforza — Letter to the Pope from the Signory — Machiavelli to a friend — Conspiracy to i-estore the Medici — Execution of con- spirators — Savonarola insulted while preaching — Riots — Excommunication pronounced — General interest ex- cited 278 CHAPTER XII. DEFENCE. Apathy of the Signory — Controversial papers — Savona- rola's reply to the Pope — New Signory — The brothere of San Marco and citizens intei-cede— Savonarola again preaches in 1498 — And writes sevei'al lettei'S to the Pope, all in a strain of indignant remonstrance 301 CONTENTS. xxiii CHAPTER XIII. ORDEAL. PAGK Cliristian and man — Controversy between Donieiiico da Pescia and Francesco di Puglia — Proposal of the fiery ordeal — Savonarola's reluctance — At last yields — The ordeal — The cowardice of the Franciscans — The su- perstition of the Host — Violence — Insurrection — Sa- vonarola's imprisonment — Proofs of the Pope's guilty participatiou iu the infamous trick ;<30 CHAPTER XIV. INQUISITION AND MARTI RDOM. Meditations on the fifty-first Psalm — Inquisition ap- pointed — Savonarola questioned and tortured— Fran- cesco Ceccone — Falsification of evidence and process — Condemnation — Thirty-first Psalm — Execution of Savonarola, Domenico da Pescia, and Silvestro Maruffi 353 Conclusion 373 Appendix 407 ERRATA. Page line 99 7 for Giovaafrancesco read Giovanni Francesco 150 18 — ever read always 156 ^4} — Piagnone read Piagnoni 203 34 — their read its 210 13 dele ' {the »ign of quotation) 277 i\ 290 ^2 r ^"'^ 300 93 299 36 — him read them 346 15 — S. read Santa GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA. BOOK THE FIRST. ' Non star, cuor mio, piu meco ; Se viver viioi in pace, Vanne a Gesu e sta seco, Che'l mondo e si fallace, Ciie ormai a lui non piace, Se non, chi e traditore.' Savonarola. GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA. CHAPTER I. THE CHILDHOOD OF SAVONAROLA. The Church disunited — Nicholas V. — Superstitious practices — Family and birth of Savonarola — Tutored by his grand- father Michele— Physiology and psychology — Mysticism embodied in Italian life and art — Calixtus III. — Pius II. — Canonization of Catharine of Sienna — Probable influence of such circumstances on the infant mind of Savonarola. The grief of the Church for the loss of her pristine unity was not to be consoled by the licentiousness of the Vatican, nor was the ample learning of Nicholas V. sufficient to compensate the decay of the ancient faith. He might repair, or rebuild altars and temples — remove simony from among the practices of his court — sign a concordat with the German church; — but what availed these or greater benefits, while that faith had been corrupted, and superstition yet received the sanction of the so-called vicar of Christ ? Only so recently as the year 1450, this superstition had been made to subserve the avarice of the clergy and people of Rome. The jubilee had again been celebrated, and such multitudes had been induced to seek plenary indulgence at the tombs of the Apostles, that many were crushed to death in churches, and many perished by the accidents insepar- B 2 4 THE POPE VICAR OF M4MM0N. B. T. able from all great assemblages of the people. Ninety-seven pilgrims were thrown at once by the pressure of the crowd from the bridge of St. Angelo, and drowned. These physically were the victims of idolatrous imposture, but there were others afar off who were spiritual sufferers. Nicholas V., with all his learning, had not fortitude to resist the pernicious precedent of former pontiffs, who had afforded, to those who were prevented by personal occasions from locally attending, the facilities of redeeming their omission at a distance. Indeed, not only salvation, but full and complete indulgence for all manner of sin and crime had been brought to every man's private door. For the greater convenience of purchasers, and the greater profit of the venders, both the jubilee and its indulgences had frequently been permitted to every place in Christendom. Those therefore who would not or could not come to Rome might lawful!}' stay away, if they paid the price for the privilege of receiving at home the anticipatory pardon for which, at a lesser rate, they must have crossed the Alps. In a word, the pope was no longer the vicar of Christ, but of Mammon. No man can serve both. Nor could the pope attempt such double service without a feeling of shame. To the Poles and Lithuanians, for instance, a private jubilee had been accorded, on the condition that every pious person should pay for his indulgence half of the charge which he would have incurred by the pilgrimage to Rome. This contrivanr-e would have raised a sum so enormous, that the blushing traffickers were com- pelled by the natural operations of ccmscience to reduce the proportion to one quarter. The proceeds were even then so considerable, that half of thom were confided to the king of Poland for the prose- cution of the holy war, a fourth to the queen Sophia for charitable uses, and a fourth for the repair of the CH. I. BIRTH OF SAVONAROLA. 5 Roman churches. They might have been vrorse applied ; but having been levied on superstition, and, in great part, on that of the poor, they were never- theless accursed. Providence had decreed that at this period, Giro- LAMO Savonarola should appear on the stage of the world. This extraordinary man, whom Luther placed with John of Hiiss and Jerome of Prague amongst the martyrs of protestantism, was descended from a noble and illustrious race, originally of Padua, and was bom of Nicolo Savonarola and Helena his wife, on the 21st of September, 1452, at Ferrara, and soon afterwards BaptTzed with tlie name of Girolamo Maria Francesco Mattheo. His mother was of the ancient house of Buonacorsi at Mantua, but for his instruction he seems to have been mainly indebted to his father and grandfather. The latter, named Michele, was a celebrated physician ; one of the men, whom, to his honour, Nicholas D'Este, Duke of Ferrara, invited to surround his person. To that city, accordingly, the Savonarola family seem to have removed together from Bologna, where they had pre- viously resided. Nor were the brothers of Girolamo undistinguished; the eldest, Ognibene,beinga soldier ; the fourth, Marco, becoming a Dominican, receiving the habit from the fraternal hands of Girolamo ; and the fifth, Alberto, being remarkable for learning and for charity. So beneficial is female association to the mind and heart of youth, that we are glad to find a brief record of two sisters, Beatrice and Clara, of whom the former died early, unmarried, and the other lived long a widow, universally re- spected, in the house of her brother Alberto. But we hear little of the mother — a deficiency of infor- mation to be deeply regretted. Several men of genius have owed so much of early inspiration to B 3 6 MICHELE SAVONAROLA. B. I. maternal teaching, that it would have been interesting to have traced its operation on the mind of our Reformer. From the ruggedness of his character, both as boy and man, it is to be suspected that Girolamo Savo- narola had never been blessed with the softening influences of such instruction. Little less effective, however, are the teachings of a competent grandfather or a great uncle ; — a truth which the present biographer can personally attest. Michele undertook the boy Girolamo's education, and continued to superintend his studies till he was ten years of age, when death removed the old man from the charge he was so well fulfilling. A taste for letters had led Michele early in life, to exchange the profession of arms for that of physic. After receiving his degree of Doctor of Medicine, he visited the most celebrated schools, especially those of Salerne, Naples, Rome, Paris, and, in part, Ger- many ; and in particular studied chemistry, taking notes of the mineral waters of different countries. On his return, he was named lecturer of the Uni- versity of Padua. While resident at Ferrara, he occupied the chair of practical medicine. In evi- dence of his learning many works exist — one (enti- tuled Speculum Physiognomice) was translated into Greek. They are chiefly on medical subjects ; ma- nifesting, however, considerable independence in thought and expression, and a disposition to question the learning and intelligence of some authors then vulgarly esteemed first-rate. Such a man was calcu- lated to excite an ardent youth to precocious deve- '.op''ment, and it would appear that even at this early period lie liad not only instructed the lad in grammar ' Michele was born in 131!4,anJ commenced life as Chev.a- lier de Rhodes. CII. I. PHYSIOLOGICAL MYSTICISM. 7 and the tatin language, but had also initiated him into his own physiological studies. Generally distinguished for a love of learning and the arts, many individual physicians have even prac- tised them with considerable success, besides becoming proficient in their own profession. Medicine, also, in the days of which we are writing, was not only a branch of science but of philosophy ; concerned not only the body but the soul. Psychological investi- gations, therefore, were certainly within its sphere ; but the practitioner, not content either with their limit or their level, frequently aspired to discover the principles of Being, in their most mystical arcana. In fact, it took a long time to distinguish and exhibit the professions apart from one another, and from the common unity in which they were originally involved. The ecclesiastical at first embraced the whole. Re- ligion- — philosophy — art — science — these were only developements of one and the same spirit which com- prised them all within the bounds of the Church. The clergy engrossed the learned professions, which are now divided among the laity. They were not only priests, but physicians, surgeons, lawyers, poets, musicians, artists, architects — nay, actors — and to them we are indebted for the introduction of the drama, as well as for the preservation of all kinds of learning. When some distinction began to be made between the different professions, it was not likely that they would lose all at once the marks of their previous unity. They who undertook to heal the body still viewed it in connexion with the soul and spirit. It is evident that Michele possessed much of the enthu- siasm which attaches to these mystical pursuits, par- ticularly when brought in aid of the healing art. Speculation and practice here go together, and play into one another's hands, affording peculiar delight 8 SUPERSTITION AND RELIGION. B. I. to the professor from their mutual and varying inter- course. Extravagant notions were doubtless in this way generated ; but we frequently misjudge such characters and their opinions — for we are yet only again beginning to appreciate the advantages arising from the union of science with philosophy and re- ligion. In Italy — however corrupt the form — however de- generate the spirit — all was subservient to the reli- gious sentiment. It might, in the minds of the many, prove only a superstitious feeling ; still we must remember that superstition itself is nothing less than the religion of the natural man, and that the many are always the carnally minded, and if divested of superstition, are left without religion. The few, in all ages, have risen to purer perceptions ; and what subserved, in the vulgar mind, only the gross purposes of idolatry, might in their's conduce to the highest ends of the purest worship. Here the most glorious art had illustrated the holiest mysteries, and the most subtle ' guesses at truth,' were beautifully embodied •in cunning symbols of the sense. ' The pomp of columns and trimnphal arches Confronted them, the Colosseum's grandeur Encompassed them with wonder, a sublime Creative spirit iu its world of miracles, Its own fair world, shut-in their souls to gaze. How felt they, when, within the churches stepping, Heaven's music hovered o'er them, and the forms Of perfect fulness prodigally poured From wall and ceiling ; when the Highest and Most Glorious, there before the raptured sense. In present motion, swayed ; when now they saw The god-like pictured — to the eye addressed — The Virgin's Salutation by the Angel, The Lord's Nativity, the Holy Mother, The Trinity Descending, and the lustrous Ti-ansfiguration ; when at last they saw The Pope, in pride of office, bless the people. CH. I. NICHOLAS V. 9 O ! what is all the gohl, the jewelled sheen, With which the kiugs of earth adoru themselves ! He is embellished with Divinity, Truly, heaven's very kingdom is his house. For not of this poor world is such array ' ! ' Michele and Girolamo, the venerable teacher and his docile grandson, were alike surrounded with the same gorgeous types, which made earth speak everj'where of heaven, and suggested the numberless analogies that link the shadows of the one with the realities of the other. Every thing conspired to promote that precocious opening of the mind, which made Girolamo Savonarola seem, at ten years of age, a family prodigy. IMoreover, his mind possessed a poetic aptitude, sub- sequently so developed as justly to beget for him esteem as a lyric genius. The era, too, had its startling phenomena, and the character of Nicholas V. was not without interest. He was an indomitable man of intellect — one of those who hope against hope. Thus even when Constan- tinople fell, he sought by a new crusade to regain to the Church her eastern empire. To this end ^neas Sylvius, (afterwards Pius II.) charmed the princes oi Germany by his eloquence ; but one Simonet, a monk without any, performed the task required by the mere force of activity, visiting with his personal efforts Venice, Milan, Florence. A simple, unlearned, undistinguished hermit of St. Augustine, without rank, without wealth, without any worldly support, had accomplished by vulgar enthusiasm an enterprize which the pope and his court of cardinals had in vain attempted. Before, however, all the plans proposed could be brought to bear, Nicholas V. died of grief or remorse — not without leaving his testimony against that chair of St. Peter, which he had so infelicitously 2 Schiller's « Maria Stuart.' I. 6. 10 JENEAS SYLVIUS. B. I. occupied. ' No man,' he said, ' ever crosses my threshold who tells me a word of truth. T am con- founded by the artifices of those who surround me : and if I were not restrained by the fear of scandal, I would resign the pontificate, and become once more Thomas of Sarzana. Under that name I had more enjoyment in a single day, than any year can hence- forth ever bring me.' He was succeeded by Calix- tus III. From head to foot, the Church had been found corrupt by every office-bearer, whose conscience re- tained the capacity of making distinction between right and wrong. Inspiration still continued more powerful than learning, yet had learning long substi- tuted inspiration in the Church, notwithstanding that she had not then, as in these latter days, resigned her claims to miraculous gifts, and the power of prophetic vision. She had not congratulated herself on the fact of her being a dead Church, and been consequently content that her pastors, and teachers, and apostles should be likewise dead, venturing the foolish asser- tion (which we regret lately to have seen made in some respectable tracts devoted to the promotion of ecclesiastical discipline,) that, in this manner, the same relation was preserved between the clergy and their flock, asbetween alivingpeople and alivingpriesthood. Bad as they were, the clergy of those times had not ex- pressed themselves satisfied with the mere form of god- liness, while lacking altogether the power. Though learned and eloquent, the practice of dialectics had not overlaid the real enthusiasm that naturally belonged to the character of yEneas Sylvius. True, he was a rhetorician, but yet sincere in his efforts as had been poor Simonet. With the great and powerful, how- ever, jEneas sought to plead ; — nay, pleaded so suc- cessfully, that scarcely was the successor of Nicholas V. estiiblished in his dignity, when the princely orator CII. I. PILS II. 11 appeared in Rome, and claimed audience of the new pope and cardinals, to receive the gratifying report of his progress in foreign courts. Calixtus III. was, however, more anxious to apply the infamous system of nepotism to the advantage of his family, than to take vigorous measures for extending or securing the dominion of the ecclesiastical city of the world. The ignoble passion of avarice had substituted the myste- rious sentiment of spiritual ambition in the pontifical bosom, and the riches of the apostolical treasury were exhausted on the worthless nephews of the temporary holder of the papal see. Then also the worldliness of jEneas Sylvius' character shewed itself. When the same Calixtus was accused by the Germans of having raised exorbitant contributions, under the pretext of a holy war, and violated the concordat made with his predecessor ; then JEneas Sylvius, who had formerly opposed pontifical oppression, and only recently advocated the imperial claims, was so un- mindful of the grace of consistency, as to defend and justify the wrong doings of all popes whatsoever, and the existing pope in particular, against the gainsaying prelate-princes of Germany, and especially against the national ingratitude in having resolved to with- hold contributions from Rome, to prevent appeals, to restore elections to the ordinaries, to refuse annates, and so, in effect, to deprive the sovereign pontiff of the plenitude of his power. Doubtless, he had strong motive for such a course of action. The chair of St. Peter was almost within his own reach. Calixtus III. was old — very old. In fact, he reigned only three years, and the fortunate and assiduous jEneas Sylvius thus soon became in very deed Pius II. At the council of Mantua, called by him for promoting the crusade which he had so much at heart, he asserted the paramount and unappealable authority of the holy see, in a celebrated bull, which denounced all 12 THE CHURCH, B. I. appeals from the pope to general councils, ' as an execrable abuse unheard of in ancient times — a prac- tice which every man instructed in law must regard as contrary to the holy canons, and prejudicial to the Christian republic,' — and then proceeded to excom- municate all individuals, whether imperial, royal, or pontifical, who might thereafter resort to such ap- peals, as well as all universities and colleges, and all others who should promote and counsel them. Nor was he content with this official edict, but went the length of publishing a retractation of his own early opinions; — confessing, that being liable to human imperfection, he had said or written much which might unquestionably be censured — that he had sinned like Paul, and persecuted the Church of God through want of sufficient knowledge, but that now he imitated the blessed Augustine, who having fallen into some erroneous expressions, retracted them : — adding, ' Believe me now that I am old, rather than then, when I spake as a youth ; pay more regard to the sovereign pontiff than to the individual ; reject ^neas, receive Pius. The former name was imposed by my parents — a Gentile name, — and in my infancy : the other I assumed as a Christian in my Apostolate.' Transactions like these could not fail of impressing an imagination so quick, so ardent, as the boy Savonarola's. They tended apparently to support the external dignity of the Church, the rights of which they asserted. All indicated that a struggle was proceeding for the maintenance of her authority — her supremacy — her divine origin. It needs, too, as we shall show, to be in the fold of the Church to fully understand her corruptions. On the outside, the decencies were at this period well preserved, and even increased attention was paid daily to their observance. At all times, too, the ecclesiastical in- stitution has been a positive benefit, and has included CH. I. • OPEN VISION.* 13 within its bosom individuals whose personal holiness was calculated to give elevation to any society. The virtues and piety of the inferior clergy were always sufficient to preserve the respectability of the ordinary ministrations. The zeal and sincerity of such indi- viduals, though almost unnoticed by the historian, were fruitful of good example in the retired places of life, where the serenity of daily occupation is un- disturbed by the intrigues of those who are seated in authority. By them the cumbrous machinery of the court and prelacy of Rome was supported long after it had given way at head-quarters. ' Tt was their virtues,' says a modern writer, ' which sustained the vices of their superiors ; it was their humble piety which enabled mitred apostates so long to outrage the name of Christ. And it was not, till the poison had descended to the extremities of the system, and communicated to the village pastor some portion of its hierarchal malignity, that the Church of Rome reeled to its foundation, and by its weakness and depravity invited and justified the rebellion of its children.' But until this result was produced, it preserved enough of ostensible beauty to awaken and maintain the enthusiasm of the young and ardent spirit of Girolamo. An occurrence too happened at this lime, which, considering the mystical bias that had been given to his mind, and the poetical temperament that he had derived from nature, was calculated to excite all his genius, and call out the latent energies of a pious soul. It was not in art or theory alone that mystical sentiment in Italy received expression, but in the daily business of life — in character and conduct. The Church had still her saints — her miracles — her gifts of prophecy. She still asserted the possession of ' Open Vision' — and the learned Pius II. was now to sanction with his eminent authority claims of c 14 ST. CATHARINE OF SIENNA. B. I. an extraordinary character, by performing the long delayed canonization of the celebrated Catharine of Sienna, who had died eighty years before, but whose reputation had so continually increased, that at length the popular anxiety could be no longer disappointed. St. Catharine of Sienna was a disciple of St. Do- minic, who not only reverenced his virtues, but imitated his discipline ; interposing her own personal efforts to smooth the political difficulties of her country, and seeking to influence, by her reason and authority, the most momentous concerns of the Church. She was a daughter of a citizen at Sienna, early embraced the monastic life, and soon acquired extraordinary reputation for sanctity. In the rigour of her fastings and watchings, in the duties of serious- ness and silence, in the fervency and continuance of her prayers, she far surpassed the merit of her holy sisters ; and the austerities she practised prepared people for the marvels she related. From no human teacher, but by personal communication with Christ himself, Catharine of Sienna derived the spiritual knowledge she professed. Once the Saviour ap- peared to her, accompanied by the holy mother and a numerous host of saints, and in their presence solemnly espoused her, placing on her finger a golden ring, adorned with four pearls and a diamond. The vision vanished, but the ring remained sensible and palpable to her though not to others. Nor was this all. The devotee had sucked from the wound in his side the blood of the Lord ; she had received his heart in exchange for her own ; she bore on her body the marks of his wounds. But unlike the stigmata on the body of St. Francis, on hers they were imperceptible, save to her own gifted vision. At length the fair enthusiast was called from her cell by the messengers of the Florentine people, and officially charged with an important commission to CH. I. DISDNION OF THE CHURCH. 15 Gregory XI., then resident at Avignon — no less than to mitigate the papal displeasure and reconcile the Church with the Republic. She succeeded in her errand. Admitted to an early audience, she delivered to the pope her arguments in the vulgar Tuscan, ex- plained however by the attendant interpreter; with which his holiness was so satisfied that he finally left the dispute entirely to her decision. She then ad- dressed the pontiff on his own duties and prospects, and urged on him the obligations he owed to his Italian subjects, to the tombs of the apostles, to the chair of his mighty predecessors. Whether influenced by his own predisposition — by the compulsion of circumstances — or the spirit that spake in her — Gregory XI. shortly after removed his residence from Avignon to Rome. On his death-bed, he seems to have repented of the confidence that he had thus put in private revelations ; declaring that ' he had been seduced by such to reject the rational counsels of his friends, and had dragged himself and the Church into the perils of a schism, which was then near at hand, unless Jesus her Spouse should interpose in his mercy to avert it.' The schism dreaded by Gregory XI, was not averted. Ere long, and Christendom was convulsed with the contest of two popes, one at Avignon and one at Rome. The female saint supported the claims of Urban VI. against those of Clement VII. The spiritual obedience of Europe was divided. The doctors and learned men of the age took both sides of the controversy, which soon became voluminous. Many pious and gifted persons, say Roman Catholic writers, who are now numbered among the saints of the Church, were to be found indifferently in either obedience — proof sufficient (as they assert) that the eternal salvation of the faithful was not in this case endangered by their error. Catharine was conspi- c 2 16 CANONIZATION OF ST. CATHARINE. B. I. cuous not only as the advocate, but the adviser of the Roman pope. Not only did she declare herself loudly for Urban, and employ her talents, her elo- quence, and force, in writing and exhorting all the world to acknowledge him — but in six epistles ad- dressed to himself she discreetly recommended him to relax somewhat from the extreme austerity that had made him so many enemies. But he listened not to the admonitions of his inspired instructress, and continued to rule not only with harshness and rigour, but even with cruelty. Such were some of the acts of Catharine of Sienna ; and having thus distinguished herself by her eminent piety, she continued for the rest of her life in the perfect odour of sanctity. After her death continual miracles were performed at her tomb, and the faithful demanded her canonization. A duke of Austria and a king of Hungary even condescended to solicit it from the pontiff of the day, but the confusion of the Church and the disorders of the holy see prevented the ceremony. No less a genius than the learned and enlightened Pius II. was fated to pay that honour to the long since departed enthusiast. By no prelate less accomplished, less liberal, less gifted, less distin- guished, was Catharine of Sienna to be enthroned among the saints of the Church, which in her life she had influenced by counsels received by express reve- lation from the Church's Spouse. On the learned yet mystical spirit of Michele, and the no less poetic than enthusiastic temperament of Girolamo Savonarola, such an event, so famous in all subsequent ages, and productive of such popular sen- sation in its own, could not fail of making a deep and lasting impression. One can imagine the venerable grandsire and liis excitable pupil in close and anxious communion on this engrossing topic. What ques- tions ! what rejoinders ! How was wonder awakened ! CH. I. EFFECT ON SAVONAROLA. 17 how was faith requickened, stimulated, emboldened and encouraged ! Such was Italy in the childhood of Savonarola; such were the influences, and such the times, amidst which his infant intelligence looked out on a world where good and evil maintain perpetual conflict. They must be well considered, if we would arrive at a true estimate of his character and history. C.3 CHAPTER II. THE BOYHOOD OF SAVONAROLA. Savonarola taught after ten years of age by his father — By professional teachers— His ra])id progress — Acquaintance with Aristotle and Plato — Wherein they apparently differ to the exoteric student from St. John — Savonarola studies Thomas Aquinas — Primitive teaching of the Apostles — Savonarola's dissatisfaction with the world and liis deter- mination to be a monk — The Dominican oi-der — The ration- ale of Monastic Institutions — Savonarola a disappointed lover — His early character and habits. Upon the death of his grandfather, Savonarola was not left without a tutor. His father assumed the office. He was nevertheless under a moral and mental influence of a more worldly character; but still he was happily placed, since education is never so legitimately conducted, as when in the hands of its natural guardians — the parents of the pupil. The mind of Savonarola had opened so much in consequence of the precocity to which it had already been excited, that his father determined on having him without delay carefully and liberally instructed by competent teachers. His native town (which only lately had been honoured with the presence of two celebrated teachers, Guarino of Verona, and Giovanni Aurispa, a Sicilian, both of whom had stu- died Grecian antiquity in Greece itself) fortunately possessed such, and by these he was aided not a little in the task of self-culture, that had become habitual CII. H. THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD. 19 to his mind. So greatly zealous was he for the truth, as well as so much accustomed to investigate its evi- dences for himself, that he was wont, when their views differed, to contend with his teachers, and assert his right to maintain his own. His attention was speedily directed to the Greek and Roman lore which had then recently redawned upon the world. It was under the guidance of his father, however, that he stu- died logic and philosophy ; and such was his persevering diligence, and so penetrating his understanding, that he soon found himself in advance of his schoolfellows, not only in amount of knowledge, but in the readi- ness of his intelligence and the accuracy of his judg- ment. It is added, too, that his general character preserved him from envy, and that all who knew him wished him well, and joyfully formed the greatest expectations of his future celebrity. His progress must have been rapid, for we soon find that such was his acquaintance with Plato and Aristotle (the latter he appears to have studied first), that the writings of these sages had already induced those ' unworldly yearnings' which are ever found to accompany in the minds of ingenuous youth the first perceptions of the ideal. Not only was Giro- lamo's thirst for knowledge increased, but his desire for moral elevation' grew with his growtli and strength- ened with his strength. He began at once to appre- hend',' in Ihe system of things about hinv-^in the conduct of individuals and general society — and, perhapsV in his own ordinary practice — a rule of living and acting repugnant to those sublime princi- ples which he had been taught to appreciate in the works of his masters, and the truth of which he had recognized in the aspirations of his own better spirit. His friends were delighted with his unhesitating im- provement in science and philosophy ; but for him- self, he could not avoid feeling a dissatisfaction which PLATO, ARISTOTLE, AND ST. JOHN. B. I. he kept secret, but which nevertheless was acquiring in its conceahnent a sacred energy, that uhimately produced decided results — such as at once distin- guished him for force of character and personal reso- lution. At this point it is, that the mind of youth recog- nizes the reality of a power to which the world is opposed, but which, notwithstanding, is, in fact, uni- versally recognized. This recognition is embodied in the institution that we call the Church, The Church and the world are scripturally represented as per- petual antagonists. The former ought to maintain pure principle against corrupt practice, and this is exactly what was done by the founders of it. Only those who were willing to do this were admitted into it. God, in the first instance, only added to it ' such as should be saved.' Afterwards many were admitted who were never other than children of wrath, and who. like Judas, accumulated perdition by the guilt of treachery. Savonarola had not yet advanced so far into the question as this discovery implies. He had only recognized the antagonism of the world to the pure principle which he had accepted as the law of his own character and conduct. Nor had he yet probably received it as more than an idea, since only as such, if exoterically studied, (and Savonarola had not yet the means of deeper insight) it is taught, or seems to be taught, by Plato and Aristotle. He had yet to learn, with St. John, to recognize it as a Person — as not only a Principle but a Being — and that Being, God According to the mystical evangelist, that divine Being celebrated in all ages as the Messiah, See this subject very nicely treated in an ' Enquiry into the Heresies of the Apostolic age,' by the late Rev. E. Burton, D.D., Regius pi-ofessor of Divinity, and Cauou of Christ's Church, Oxford. CH. II. EXEMPLARY MEN. 21 the Christ, the Anointed, the Word, is veritably the Son of God, in the beginning with God, and himself God, — as well as the life of the human soul and the light of the intelligence of man. He, however, does not neglect or undervalue the latter truth, but de- clares it boldly, announcing the eternal Word as a principle also which may be claimed by every indi- vidual of the race as the common inheritance. Never- theless, ' the light that lighteth every man coming into the world' is manifested in different individuals, and in the race at different times, in very different degrees. In the best of men, under the best of cir- cumstances, it is but as a ' light shining in the dark- ness that comprehends it not.' In natures, and with peoples, that need expansion beyond the sphere of sensual existence, the ' life which is the light of men' is so partially and feebly exhibited, as scarcely to be recognizable. They are indeed pronounced as alive to none other than the natural desires and per- ceptions, and therefore dead in trespasses and sins. In point of intellect, they are but one remove from idiots. ' To be carnally minded,' we are further told, ' is death.' It is to be feared that the majority of mankind are in this undeveloped, unquickened condition. ' High capacious powers,' as the poet asserts, ' are folded up' in their souls, but remain unwitnessed ; whence beings, capable of immortality, die like the beasts that perish, — giving no sign of the divinity within. A few, however, have at all times and in all places been privileged to illustrate the purpose of God in the creation of man, and to these we are indebted, under God, for examples of what it is possible for man to become. Excellent as some of these examples are, reacliing almost to the summit of human perfection ; such, 22 STANDARD OF HUMAN EXCELLENCE. B. I. however, is the disposition of our reason to regressive speculation, that it still remains dissatisfied, and in- sists on conceiving a yet untried possibilitj-. It requires to be furnished indeed with more than the relative instances of a law, and demands such an em- bodiment of the principle it acknowledges as shall serve for a Standard, and constitute an absolute Cri- terion by which it shall be regulated in its judgments of all attempts at similar realization. The four Gospels contain the records of the life and death on earth of a Divine Being in the form of a man, known by the name of Jesus of Nazareth, whose character and conduct were such as to justify his believers in accepting Him as the very incarnation of the Word of God — the personal fulfilment of the law of the Omni- potent — and the perfect realization of the Principle which is with the Eternal — and who was accordingly acknowledged by them (though not by the world) as the Christ who was to come, the Son of the everlast- ing Father, the Author and Finisher of the faith of man. By the world He was despised and rejected, and by those who ruled in its high places, ecclesiasti- cal and political. He was arraigned of blasphemy, mocked, insulted, scourged, and crucified. After three days. He rose from the sepulchre in which He had been buried, and subsequently returned into the heavens from which He had originally descended, as the Saviour of the human race. There, seated at the right hand of the Father, He received gifts for men, shedding anon the gracious influences of his holy Spirit on his disciples — enabling ' some to be apo- stles — some prophets — some evangelists — some pas- tors and teachers ; for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of the Christ : till we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto CIl. II. SCHOLASTIC THEOLOGY. 23 a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of the Christ'.' To return. The manifold subtleties of Aristotle seem little to have pleased Savonarola, whether in youth or manhood. Though pursuing the philosophy of the Stagyrite only after the fashion of the time, the strong practical sense, for which he was remarkable, could not fail to detect various errors, that during the solitary period of his early life and the public discussions of his later age he took every opportunity of denouncing. With Plato, with whom, as we have mentioned, he became subsequently acquainted, he was better satisfied — studying and copying his dialogues indeed with enthusiasm, and coinciding with the opinions of the time which quoted him even from the pulpit as ' the godlike man.' The writings of Thomas Aquinas, to whom he is said to have devoted his nights as well as days, likewise exercised his in- genuity, and shan'pened his reason ; familiarizing his mind with speculations calculated to be exceedingly useful to him in after life. The angelic doctor's ' Commentaries on Aristotle' probably assisted Sa- vonarola in that clear insight into those errors which he subsequently gloried in exposing, and his ' Sum of Theology,' together with his voluminous exercita- tions on the Old and New Testaments, were adapted to divert the pupil from physic to theology, and give a religious direction to the mind. It is customary with experimental sciolists of our own days to undervalue the labours of this mighty dialectician, but in so doing they quite as much err by their exclusivencss in one direction as perhaps the scholastic theologians did by their pertinacity in the opposite. The divine, the spiritual and the moral faculties of the human soul were strengthened by such speculations, and not only 5 Epii. iv. 11. 13. 24 PRIMITIVE TEACHING. B. I. Savonarola, but many men of marvellous genius were fortified in their love of truth by the method of a priori study. A logical exercise of higher value and wider utility, however, is doubtless to be appreciated in the careful and critical perusal of the New Testa- ment Scriptures. In them we find a high and pure doctrine — such as had never been previously promulged in temple or school — surpassing not only the subtlety of Aris- totle, but excelling the sublimity of Plato. The earliest disciples of the Messiah declared aloud to the people of Jerusalem that the last days had come, when God had said, ' I will pour out of my Spirit upon all flesh ; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams ; and on my servants and on my handmaidens T will pour out in those days of my Spirit ; and they shall prophesy. And I will shew wonders in heaven above, and signs in the earth beneath ; blood, and fire, and vapour of smoke : the sun shall be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood, before that great and notable day of the Lord come : and it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved'.' And therewithal they de- manded of all men that they should repent and be bap- tized every one in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, declaring that thus they should re- ceive the Holy Ghost : adding, ' For the promise is unto you and to your children, and to all that are. afar off, even as many as the Lord our God shall call Such a doctrine, though individually received by many, was not generally patronized by the world, nor by the rulers of its institutions. By these it was in- terpreted in a carnal sense only, and they failed not " Acts ii. 17—21. ' lb. 3«, 39, CII. II. RELIGIOUS IMPULSES. 25 to allege that it was nothing short of ' blasphemy against Moses and against God, against the temple and against the law.' Nor was the truth long with- out a martyr, who was accused of having said that Jesus of Nazareth should destroy the temple and city of the Jews, and should change the customs which Moses had of old delivered to them. So hard it is for institutions that have been long established, to tolerate the statement of those verities, on the foun- dation of which they must, nevertheless, have them- selves been originally edified. Alas ! initiated by the enthusiasm of their earlier members, they substitute thenceforth the rules of an order for the impulses of the individual, until at last mere precedent and cus- tom supply the place of those high feelings, and that conscious inspiration, in which at first they had their genesis. Not yet aware how that the Church, instead of rebuking, had long supported the world in its worst evils ; Savonarola, now a young man, acting on his individual impulses, looked towards her as a shelter and a refuge from what he scorned, and would fain shun. His conscience, enlightened by philosophy, had condemned the world, and he sought in religion for redress and safety. The mind of Girolamo was indeed tossed to and fro by the state of sentiment into wliich he had been thrown. He contemplated the wickedness of the Avorld with horror — it was a monster of a mien so hideous as not to be endured. He turned from it, therefore, to God — to his own soul. He sought the converse of angelic visitants — of spiritual powers — the privileges of divine communion. He desired to revel for ever in the beauty of holiness, and avert his attention altogether from the ugliness of sin. Hard task for the individual ! We need sympathy, else such aspirations fall back upon the heart, like scorch- D 26 PRINCIPLE OF MONACHISM. B. I. ing steam, and aggravate its anguish. The Church took — or professed to take — all to her bosom who felt and thought like him. She had gathered many such together. Within her folds were the companions who could partake his sorrows and his consolations, with whom he could talk of heaven and heavenly things. Many were the chambers of her house. Wisdom had builded it, and she had hewn out there her seven pillars. She had provided means for the sustenance of piety, receptacles for the nurture of true excellence, and much that was required for the moral necessities of man. Religion had been beneficially invoked to supply the defects of civil government — the name of the Church had been associated with peace. The truce of God mitigated the fury of pri- vate warfare, by limiting the hours of vengeance, and interposing a space for the operation of justice and humanity. The advocate of the weak — the adver- sary of arbitrary power — the dispenser of charity — the Church of Rome provided asylums both for the criminal and the pious. The discipline so strictly inculcated by the earlier prelates, notwithstanding its subsequent abuse, was profitable in its legitimate applications. It arrested the first steps and restrained the earliest dispositions to sin. Confession and pe- nance, and the awful censures of the Church, unop- posed by the popular belief, and dispensed with sin- cerity and discretion, are potent instruments for the improvement of society whether civilized or uncivil- ized. To the safeguard of such a Church, Savonarola had resolved upon confiding his eternal interests — in one of her chambers, under the shade of one of her pillars, he would find repose. The principle of monachism in particular attracted his preference. He was charmed by the peace it assured, by the security it offered, lie was, though so young, animated by the CH. II. THE DOMINICAN ORDER. 27 same passion for retirement and contemplation as had peopled in the East the mountains and wildernesses with holy recluses. He had yet to understand and to exemplify the utilities which in the West monastic establishments would mainly subserve, namely, as- sociation and education, by these means giving an impulse to the human understanding, which other- wise it w-ould not have received ; whence, indeed, the Reformation of the Church proceeded from the bosom of these her institutions. Savonarola then had determined to be a monk, and his mind was bent on joining the Domi nican s. Perhaps, the fact of Thomas Aquinas having been of this order might have swayed Tiim. There are, however, many good reasons why he should have preferred it. The most learned and the most elo- quent, it was also the most active of all the forms of monachism. It professed mendicity and practised preaching. Its great purpose was the extirpation of heresy from the papal dominions. In the valleys of Piedmont and the "cities of Languedoc, it commenced the crusade which ended in founding the Spanish Inquisition, and furnishing it with its sternest minis- ters. St. Dominic, from whom the order received its name, was, at the period of the first persecution of the Albigeois, a young ecclesiastic, remarkable for the severity of his life, the extent of his learning, the persuasiveness of his manner, and the ardour of his zeal. He was a Spaniard of a noble family, and of the order of canons regular ; first having proved in Languedoc the power of his eloquence, and de- lighting in its display, he became desirous of esta- blishing a fraternity devoted to its exercise, which, by a bull of Honorius III., he was enabled to accom- plish. About the same time St. Francis established his rival order; and, though differing much in their origin, both, in the course of time, assimilated in D 2 28 ELOQUENCE ENCOURAGED. B. I. their practice, and each brotherhood resolved itself into a society of itinerant preachers, tn some re- spects, however, they materially differed. In one of the controversies which frequently raged between the two orders, the Franciscans were so rebellious to the holy see as formally to attempt the deposition of a pope, while the Dominicans were not only submissive to its authority, but uncompromisingly devoted to its interests : in internal discipline also it excelled its rival. In learning it excelled all the orders. The monks of St. Dominic cultivated the science of controversy, and soon became almost irresistible in its use. They exhausted the resources of scholastic ingenuity in the defence of the papal government. Nor in their own behoof were they awanting. They contended during no less than thirty years for a right to lecture in the schools of Paris, and ultimately triumphed over their opponents. In striving for themselves, however, they had indirectly wounded the Church — the possi- bility of her erring having been in the course of the argument openly asserted. One of the reasons which swayed the mind of Savonarola in his choice, was doubtless the encourage- ment given by the Dominican order to eloquence of the highest kind. He was already conscious of the first impulses of the orator. Nature right-early makes her secret instincts felt in the soul of a man of genius. But Savonarola's motives, notwithstand- ing, were mainly religious— he was kindled by a sacred enthusiasm, and quickened with the flame of piety. For his disgust with the world, too, there was sufficient reason in the character of the age. Long as Christian principles had been struggling in a world of error, their triumph was not yet assured. There was yet little promise that conduct altogether righte- ous would be permitted to persons busied in secular CII. II. PROVIDENTIAL INTERPOSITION. 29 pursuits. There was still in the heart of man a vir- tual paganism, as strong as that which impeded the first progress of Gospel truth, and justified retreat and seclusion to the Orientals and Africans of an earlier epoch. The temperament of Savonarola was as ardent as theirs ; his imagination as impetuous. In him, likewise, the theory of religion had a proba- ble tendency to mysticism and bodily mortification, though not its practice to mere ceremony and un- reasoning superstition. He believed too in the boast of St. Bernard, that those who had embraced the monastic condition lived with greater purity than other men ; that they fell less frequently, and rose more quickly ; that they walked with greater pru- dence ; were more constantly refreshed with the spi- ritual dew of heaven ; rested with less danger, died with greater hope. Nor was this boast unfounded. The basis of monastic institutions had always been laid in the reformation of manners. Their history, indeed, pre- sents a series of reformations. Like that of the earliest Cenobites, each successive institution began in poverty, in the most rigid morality, in the duties of religion, of education, of charity. Each grew into power and wealth, and then, by reason of its bright- ness, became corrupted. Wealth, in e'^cry instance, was followed by relaxation of discipline and contempt of decency. After the first, each new order arose out of the corruption of its predecessor. Reformation had, so many times, become necessary ; and the same system was thus repeatedly regenerated under another, or even under the same name, and passed under the same deteriorating process to a fresh corruption. At each period of regeneration also the reformation within had to contend with some similar reformation that had commenced without. In this fact, the miraculous interposition of Providence may be clearly traced. D 3 30 SAVONAKOLA S EARLY HABITS. B, I. There is reason, therefore, for the pious gratitude with which the advocates of the Church of Rome declare, that ' the same God who raised up St. Atha- nasius against the Arians, and St. Augustine against the Pelagians, and St. Dominic and St. Francis against the Albigenses, deigned, in a later and still more perilous age, to call for the spirit of Loyola against Luther and Calvin.' The time will at length arrive when, as deep calleth unto deep, those who are within and those who are without shall con- cur together in the restoration of that Catholic purity which is neither of Rome nor of Germany, nor of Spain nor Geneva, but of that holy city, that New Jerusalem, which cometli down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. As a bride ! How frequently in Scripture is the emblem of marriage used to denote the relations of the Church both with man and God. It is because the spring and root of religion is love — for God is love. Savonarola was a loving soul, though of a sanguine-choleric temperament — hence he was en- abled early to subdue his passions, and thus acquired, notwithstanding, an equable tranquillity and self- control, that never deserted him even under the severest trials. It was probably disappointed love which gave him the first distaste for merely secular pursuits — for up to his twentieth year he had certainly no intention of abandoning the world, having until then continued his medical studies, and indeed en- tertained thoughts of matrimony. At this period too he composed some erotic and elegiac verses, which subse- quently he committed to the flames. Often a blighted earthly affection is translated into an enduring hea- venly devotion. Nevertheless, this circumstance was no more than the external occasion, not the essential cause of his determination — for he was evidently pre- disposed to a serious life. In his infancy he had CH. II. SOLITARY MEDITATION. 31 ever taken litUe interest in the ordinary sports of liis comrades — as a boy he was of a mute and retiring disposition. Though he could not avoid the circles of his father's house, he mixed in them mostly as a silent spectator; when, however, he spoke, it was with friendliness, grace, and dignity. Public places of resort he avoided entirely, so that the much-fre- quented ducal castle of his native town he had only once visited ; preferring solitary walks, where he might meditate without intemiption. CHAPTER TIL THE MANHOOD OF SAVONAROLA. Savonarola's poetic studies — His religious enthusiasm — Dif- ference between his and his father's dispositions — State of the World and the Church — Specimen of Savonarola's lyric poetry — Festival of St. George at Ferrara — Savonarola enters the monastery at Bologna — Letter to liis father. The religious enthusiasm of Savonarola was doubt- less sustained by his poetical teniperament. It has been said that every poet is a religious man — it may be asserted with more truth that, in the highest sense, every religious man is a poet. The literature of the Italian poets was, in the fifteenth century, calculated to corroborate the pious predilections of the student. It was also a study which the times were far from discouraging ; nay, it is charged against the leading men of the age, that ' they admired the elegance of a finely cadenced sonnet more than the majesty and simplicity of the Scriptures.' This, however, may apply to the critical taste of a period immediately succeeding, rather than to that of which we are writing. The present was an age of production, not of criticism. Savonarola felt as a poet, not as a man of taste. He felt as Petrarch and Dante, as Fol- cHETTo and Sordello had felt before him ; that is, his enthusiasm was not excited by his admiration of a fine poem ; but the fine poems he was qualified to write owed their origin to the inherent enthusiasm of CH. III. DANTE, PETRARCH, AND BOCCACCIO. 33 the poetic spirit. The Tuscan language and poesy were more than the mere amusement of his leisure hours. They could not fail of becoming pregnant sources of inspiration, and most valuable means of educating a mind of the highest order. The bold and mighty spirit of Dante, for instance, involved the whole culture of his time, clearly mirroring catholic faith and the entire world itself in his divine work. His wonderful ' Comedia' is a mundane poem : it constitutes a universal drama of the new era, the possession of which it yet maintains without a rival, having moreover no antitype in an earlier age, except perhaps the Edda. The eagle flight which rendered the poet illustrious, elevated also the language in which he wrote, and enabled the Italian tongue to obtain a rapid supremacy over her elder sisters. From Dante the student would derive a precedent and example for the most vehement pro- testation against the abuses and corruptions of the church of which he was a member. Scepticism touching her infallibility had been already suggested in the ' Inferno : ' nor was this state of opinion at all mended by the attempted compromise that desired permission to hold that ' some things might be theo- logically true which were philosophically false.' The controversy became thus, as it were, but a sham strife, a mock 'feud between nothing and creation,' while a new life, spiritual and moral, was in progress of regeneration ' under the ribs of death.' Petrarch expressed this new life, this mighty impulse which was now agitating tlie very heart of Christendom, and added to its impetus by giving to it the tone and voice of love himself, thus advancing mysticism under the disguise of passion. Boccaccio rendered it still more attractive by investing it with a romantic cos- tume. That his romance had a burgher and civic air, was a popular element which served to carry on 34 PARIS OR BOLOGN A ? B. r. the movement in a descending direction, into the middle and lower ranks of society. \\Tiat Petrarch had concealed in learned Latin, Boccaccio told the people in his own familiar dialect. From Petrarch's erotics, Savonarola might indeed learn, that to pass existence in the study of poetry was to live always in an innocent yet beautiful dream, — was, in fact, journeying to heaven by a path strewn with flowers — * Da lei ti vien 1' amdrdso p^nsiero, Che, mentre '1 se'gui, al sdmmo Ben t'invia, Poco prezzando quel, ch'ogui uom desia. Da lei ti vien I'animdsa leggiadria Ch'al cicl ti scorge p^r destro sentiero ; Si ch' i' v6 giadella speranza altero*.' — So.nettoIX. From Boccaccio's tales he might also learn that this same poetry could be profitably applied to the things and persons and events which are usually investi- gated by ' the light of common day ; ' that thereby they might be more satisfactorily interpreted, as well as invested with a lustre which should abide with them for ever, and give them a permanent and cos- mical value. But for himself it was reserved, in the next place, to evolve a point for the ascetic and theo- sophic intelligence, wherein vital religion was ensured a severe species of scientific demonstration to minds prepared by appropriate discipline for its reception. The two great nurseries of the Dominicans were Paris and Bologna. Savonarola was attached to Bologna, not only on account of its nationality and convenience, but its family associations. He was only returning to the spot from which his father had emi- ' 'She wakes, within, the thought of purest lovej Whicli from the creature rises to its God Unsullied by tlic breath of moi-tal flame : Through her the spruigs of inspiration move, Opening so bright a path from earth's dull clod, That heaven's blest joys even now my soul doth claim.' S. WOLt.ASTON. CII. III. ENTHUSIASM. 35 grated. Moreover, he had a friend, one Ludovico, — a Bolognese and brother of the Order — who exercised some influence over his opinions. His early philoso- phical and poetical studies had now all merged into religious feeling. Thomas Aquinas had evidently absorbed both Plato and Aristotle. Nothing appeared to Savonarola so desirable as a religious life. The conviction, however, which had now become familiar to him, was not without its peculiar troubles, its secret sorrows. For the first tinie, he began to feel himself alone in the world, as consecrated and set apart from hisjamily, his friends, and his acquaintance. He felt wthin the influence of a mystery, that, like an inspi- ration, had taken possession of his being. He was perplexed in mind and in heart — he suffered much, . . . but in silence. So far from complaining of his state of mind, it is evident that he concealed it from his connexions, and in particular from his father. The first impulses of enthusiasm, in all its kinds, are generally accompanied with an instinctive cau- tion, by which the emotion is ostensibly suppressed. The patient feels that the world can have little sym- pathy with the new condition of being into which he has passed. There are fears, too, with the most earnest and faithful, whether hypocrisy or vanity may not underlie the sentiment or aspiration. Pre- cocious genius uniformly conceals its early efforts, and dreads investigation into the imperfect results of a power which has, indeed, already shown its truth to the possessor, but yet wants practice and facility to vindicate its claims on the approbation of strangers or indifferent persons, nay, even of friends. It is the same with piety, while yet struggling from the darkness into which original sin has plunged the human soul. Doubt clings to the combatant until victory is assured. Conscious of indwelling corrup- tion, he suspects the sincerity of his repentance, the 36 FATHER AND SON. B. I. genuineness of his resolution, until the fruits are realized and faith proved by good works. Add to this, that the world actually opposes, and feels an interest in antagonizing, all attempts at either artistic or moral excellence. It desiderates that equality which reduces all things to the sensuous level. Even the good would fain continue the state of mediocrity, which they have experienced to require the least exertion, and which, perhaps, satisfactorily represents to them the standard of human perfection. In a word, individual effort is felt to be an assumption of superiority, whether the talent be natural or spiritual ; and the mass of mankind resist it, sometimes actively, and, if not, always by a species of vis inerti^e. Such is the trial appointed by Providence, to prove the worth of the candidate for the blessings of heaven, or the honours of the world. Specific circumstances vary particular instances. In the case of Savonarola, an evident discordance existed between the disposition of the father and son. The knowledge, though so eminently metaphysical, which had been imparted to the latter, was all de- signed by the former to qualify the youth, from whom BO much was expected, for the profession of a phy- sician, which had brought already so much glory to the family. But the mind of Savonarola had re- ceived its bent ; and it was to the exclusively spi- ritual side of human developement that it had been inclined. An instinct for truth had been awakened, and given birth to an earnestness of purpose which, from day to day, received strength and vigour. By the operation of such high influences he was more and more withdrawn from the world and its vanities. Meanwliile, in his father's house, the world and its allurements almost perpetually presided. It was a place of gaiety, where the learned and the wealthy and the powerful assembled, and the bribes and temptations of CII. III. Savonarola's mental sufferings. 37 society were continually obtruded on the nascent appe- tite. Conditions so alien to his state of sentiment alarmed Savonarola into a conviction of the necessity of retreating from its seductions. But such a convic- tion, from the circumstances in which he was placed, could only be nursed in solitude. How could he dare to tell his father, whose kindness was evidently prerogative, that it was impossible for him to enjoy, under the paternal roof, that communion with his Lord which was necessary to his health and happi- ness ? Family prophets are never much endured : — by parents, their interference is felt as ingratitude and presumption ; by companions, as estrangement and affectation. It must be confessed, too, that in this state of mind, under such circumstances, the natural affec- tions do suffer considerable violation. Such conduct needs a justifying apology. None is sufficient which comes short of supposing a special call by God him- self appointing the individual to a special office ; — a call of which, however, only the individual is audient, and the evidence must be left entirely to his own conscience. The witness of the Divine Spirit none knoweth save the recipient; and even he knoweth it in a manner so mysterious, that, in no instance, has a satisfactory account beer rendered to any but those who are similarly influenced. The sincerity of the conviction can only be historically tested by the general course of action — by the per- severing exercise of a mission to the world — and by its ultimate success, either in the person of the indi- vidual himself, or in that of his successors in the like office. The mental struggles of Savonarola were over- whelming and incessant, and suffered, as they were, in privacy, at last became intolerable. Having formed his determination, he now awaited the opportunity of 88 DEATH OF PIUS II. B. 1. putting it into speedy effect. This was given to him in the year 1475, on the occasion of one of those solemnities which are so numerous in Italy. We have already learned what was the state of the Italian church in the childhood of Savonarola — what is it now in his manhood? Fourteen years had elapsed since the canonization of Catharine of Sienna — how had they been occupied ? Roused from the consideration of the intestine differences, to activity against the foreign foes of Christendom, Pius II., in consistory, was driven to propose himself marching in person against the Turks, who were then devastating province after province, and thus to invite Christian monarchs, not so much by words as by deeds, to follow in defence of the Church. The spectacle of an infirm old man ad- vancing to such a war would, he thought, awaken them to a sense of shame from the apathy in which they had so long indulged. ' Not,' said he, ' that we propose to draw the sword, a task incompatible with our bodily feebleness and sacerdotal character ; but after the example of the Holy Father Moses, who prayed on the mountain, even while Israel was fighting with the Amalekites, we shall stand on some lofty galley or mountain's brow, and holding before our eyes the Holy Divine Eucharist, which is our Lord Jesus Christ, we shall implore Him to grant safety and victory to our contending armies.' Pre- ceded by the cardinal of St. Angelo, an old and zealous prelate, Pius II. was, soon after this ad- dress, conveyed in a litter, enfeebled by sickness, to the camp at Ancona, and there patiently awaited the arrival of maritime succours which the Venetians had engaged to furnish. At length, the promised galleys arrived, but their white sails had no sooner become visible than the Pontiff expired. The mul- titude by whom he had been surrounded, numerous CH. III. PAPAL AVARICE. 39 but ill-conditioned, imperfectly armed, without re- sources, without discipline, nay, without enthusiasm, had been assembled from various and distant regions, only to witness the death of one distinguished man, and augment his funeral procession. Paul II., who succeeded him, imperious and vain, pompous and frivolous, — a Venetian, and therefore peculiarly empowered to resist the Turkish aggres- sion — was, nevertheless, so perverted by pontifical prejudices, that he neglected the prosecution of the war abroad for the persecution of heresy at home. To Corvinus, king of Hungary, he gave the crown of Bohemia on condition of his exterminating the Hussites. He attempted the suppression of a lite- rary society at Rome, declaring that ' the terms stu- dious and heretical were synonymous ; ' and carefully impressing upon his subjects the advantages of igno- rance. Acting upon these opinions, he put several persons of literary and moral reputation to the rack — one Agostino Campino died under the torture. Notwithstanding, however, this sanguinary show of zeal, Paul II. cared not for the Church, the interests of which all along he subjected to his own, hoarding, through mere love of gold, great treasures, in pos- session of which he died in 1471. In the year pre- ceding, urged by avarice, and expecting to reap the benefit of his wrong, he had increased an ecclesias- tical abuse by reducing once more the interval be- tween the celebration of the jubilee, changing it from thirty-three to twenty-five years. Thus the year 1475 became a year of Jubilee, Rome being then under the pontificate of Sixtus IV. formerly a Fran- ciscan monk. It must be confessed that there was nothing in the events of the time to reconcile the mind and heart of Savonarola with the world. In a monastic cell might be cherished that piety of which even the church at E 2 40 Savonarola's poetry. B. I. large had neglected the practice. Savonarola had given vent to his feelings concerning both in two canzoni, one entitled " De Ruina Mundi," written in 1472, and the other " De Ruina Ecclesiae," written in 1475. These, though fine, are long and elaborate compositions. The more internal sentiments of his heart are very sweetly expressed in the following lyric : — HYMN TO INFLAME THE HEART TO DIVINE LOVE. Heart ! no more delajTiig ! Heart ! no more delaying ! From Love Divine thus straying ! Love — Jesus Christ — receiveth, And joyfully inflameth, To glad the heart that grieveth ; Himself in prayer still nameth, Yet quickeueth what he claimeth. The Serpent ErroT slaying. When thou affliction bearest, He thy sweet guardian proveth. Thy shore where peace is nearest, Thy port which joy most loveth ; And thee to cheer still moveth, His love still more bewraying. Thme own, my Heart ! be never, Wouldst thou repose secure thee — In Jesus rest for ever ! Let not the false world lure thee ; Whom it delights, assure thee. The Lord is he betraying. If thou on earth dependest, Life makest thou bitter to thee, Wooest strife that ne'er thou endest For peace that ne'er will woo thee. Would'st happy life ? O sue thee In Light Divine arraying ! CII. III. HYMN. 41 Trust not on earth aught human, What's earthly will deceive thee. — Seek thou the Heavenly True Man, Him who will never leave thee, Whose griefs of thine bereave thee, To thee his joys conveying. While humbly thou adorcst. He willingly is granting Whatever thou iniplorest ; — Confess to him thy wanting. Unto thy wounds, while panting, The balsam he is laying. Comest thou to him, embrace thou And kiss in veneration His hands and feet ; so trace thou The saint's humiliation. While to thy admiration His mercies lie's displajing. When once thy hand he taketh, 'Tis clasp'd in his for ever ; His friend he ne'er forsaketh : With him, or nigh him, never From thee shall pleasure sever, All fear and anguish fraying. My Heart ! oh haste to Jesus ! Leave men to their disputing — His Love alone can please us. To calm the storm transmuting ; His Love we'll prove how suiting, The world's dread fury staying. Bring arms — your weapons bring ye — Ye foes of ruth ! though sadness, Though strength and terror cling ye, No more I fear your madness ! Grief is the heart's true gladness, From Love Divine not straying. Heart ! no more delaying ! Heart ! no more delaying ! From Love Divine thus straying ! E 3 42 SAVONAROLA ENTERS THE CLOISTER. B. I. Having determined to quit Ferrara secretly, Savo- narola made preparations for elFecting his purpose during the time of the solemn festival held in honour of St. George, the patron of the city. On such illustrious occasions, there are gorgeous processions of priests and singers, canons and musicians, and masked men and women, and boys with censers of incense, dignitaries and ennobled persons attendant upon crosses and statues of saint and confessor, and images of angel and archangel, of virgin and child, with the bishop majestically bearing the consecrated host, a visible god, for the worship of a superstitious and idolatrous populace. Nor are more worldly amusements wanting ; the splendours of the opera, the passions and humours of the theatre, the drolleries of Punchinello, the vulgar pleasures of houses of gross entertainment — -with licence and misrule abroad in the public streets, or more retired revelling con- cealed in the haunts of dissipation — all designed to make the holy profane enough for the crowd whose appetites are their only deities. This ended, the gorged and flown multitude hasten from their various sports to the church, where they confess all the sins they have committed during the festive period just closed. The bustle of the public games, and the magnifi- cence of the religious spectacles, would engage so much the attention of his father and friends, that Savo- narola knew his absence could not be remarked until it would be too late for them to overtake the fugitive, or interpose remonstrances between his purpose and its execution. On the 24th of April, 1475, he found safe refuge in a Dominican monastery at Bologna, as a candidate for the vows. Next day he wrote the following letter to his father: ' My honoiired father. I doubt not tliat you grieve much for my departiu-e,and the more because I left you CH. III. LETTER TO IIIS FATHER. 43 secretly ; but I wish you to learn my mind and inten- tion from this letter, that you may be consoled, and un- derstand that I have not taken this step so childishly as some think. And first ; I beg of you as of one who rightly estimates temporal things, that you will be a follower of truth, rather than of passion, like a woman, and that you will judge according to the dictates of reason whether I ought to fly from the world, and execute this my thought and purpose. The reason which induces me to become a monk is this ; in the first place, the great wretchedness of the world, the iniquity of men, the violence, the adul- tery, the theft, the pride, the idolatry, the hateful bl.isphemy into which this age has fallen, so that one can no longer find a righteous man. For this, many times a-day with tears I chaunted this verse : ' Heu, fuge crudeles terras, fuge litus avarum And this because I could not endure the great distemper of some of the people in Italy ; the more also, seeing virtue extinct, ruined, and vice triumphant : this was the greatest suffering I could have in this world : therefore, daily I entreated of my Lord Jesus Christ, that he would rescue me from this defilement. Con- tinually I made my prayer with the greatest devotion, imploring God, saying ' Show me thy path, for to Thee do I lift up mine eyes.' 'Now God has been pleased in his infinite mercy to show it me, and I have received it, though un- worthy of such grace. Answer me then, is it not well that a man should fly from the iniquity and filth of this wretched world, if he would live like a rational being., and not like a beast among swine ? Indeed, would it not have been most ungrateful, if having asked God to show me the straight path in which I should walk, when He deigned to point it out to me I had not taken it? Oh ! my Saviour, * ' Alas ! f^v the cruel earth, fly the greedy shores ! ' 44 DESCRIPTION OF HIS FEELINGS. B- 1. rather a thousand deaths, than that I should be so ungrateful, or so oppose thy will. ' Then, dearest Father, you have rather to thank our Jesus than to weep ; he gave you a son, and has not only preserved him in some measure from evil for twenty-two years, but has vouchsafed to choose him for hi^ soldier. Alas ! do you not consider it a great blessing to have a son become so easily a soldier of Christ ? Either you love me or you do not ; well, I know you will not say you do not love me ; if then you love me, as T have two parts, my soul and my body, do you most love my soul or my body ? You cannot answer, my body . . for then your affection would not be for me, but for the meanest part of me ; if then you love my soul best, . . do you not seek the welfare of my soul ? Thus, you should rejoice and exalt in this triumph. Nevertheless, I consider it cannot be, but tliat the flesh will grieve, although it should be restrained by reason, especially in wise and magnanimous men like yourself. Do you not think it is a great affliction to me to be separated from you ? Yes, indeed, believe me, never since I was born had I such sorrow and anguish of mind as in abandoning my own father, and going among strangers to sacrifice my body to Jesus, and to give up my own will into the hands of those I knew not. But afterwards reflecting on what God is, and that He does not disdain to make of us poor worms his ministers, I could not have been so daring, as not to yield to that kind voice, especially to my Lord Jesus, who says ' Come unto Me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest ; take my yoke upon you and learn of me, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light.' Because I know you lament that I left you secretly almost as a fugitive, let me tell you that such was my distress and the agitation of my inmost soul at quitting you, cn. in. GRACE AND GLORY. 45 that if I had expressed it, I verily believe before I could have departed from you my heart would have broken, and I should have changed my purpose and resolution ; therefore do not wonder that 1 did not tell you. It is true, I left, behind the books which are propped up against the window, certain writings which give you an account of my proceedings — I beg you then, dearest father, cease to weep, give me not more sadness and grief than I have : not of regret for what I have done (for indeed I would not revoke that, though I expected to become greater than Cesar Augustus), but because I am of flesh, as you are, and sense resists reason, and I must maintain a cruel warfare, that the devil may not get the better of me, particularly when I feel for you. Soon will these days pass, in which the misery is present to us, and afterwards I trust both you and I shall be consoled in this world by grace, and in the next by glory. Nothing remains, but that I request you with manly fortitude to comfort my Mother, of whom I beg, that together with you she will bestow her blessing on me, and I will ever pray fervently for your souls. 'GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA, ' Your Son. * Bologna, April 2bth, 1475.' END OF THE FIRST BOOK. GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA. BOOK THE SECOND. ' Pace ndn trovo, e n<5n ho da far guerra ; E t^mo, e spero, ed ardo, e son un ghiaccio ; E vdlo sdpra '1 cielo, e giaccio in terra ; E nulla stringo, e tutto '1 mdndo abbraccio.' Francesco Peteauca. GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA. CHAPTER I. SAVONAROLA A LAY-BROTHER. Savonarola in the monastery employed in teaching the Scho- lastic Philosophy — Studies Jerome, Augustine, and Cas- sian — Hesitates to accept priest's orders — His probable reasons — Augustine's doctrines — Primitive idea of the Church — Savonarola and Luther contrasted. Savonarola was in the twenty-third year of his age when he entered the Dominican Monastery at Bologna. The young Bolognese, named Ludovico, was the com- panion of liis flight. Savonarola's desires were mo- destly confined to the humble privileges belonging to a lay brother of the Order. He was willing to occupy himself in cultivating the garden, mending the clothes of the monks, and in domestic services, requesting in return permission to live a lifejjf^simplicity and de- votion. The superiors of the institution, however, appointed him to more than this, — availing them- selves to the utmost of the learning he had acquired. In a word, he was employed in teaching metaphysics and natural philosophy. The cloister was the world of Aristotle and the scholastic science, and he was expected to exhibit here the fruits of his former researches. F 50 CALL TO A PIOUS LIFE. B. II. Many weary years were spent in this occupation, which, however, was soon felt by Savonarola as not exactly the object for which he had renounced the world. The voice that his soul had heard indicated a higher, holier vocation. He resorted accordingly to profounder meditations. In the writings of Je- rome, Augustine, and Cassian,he sought confirmation of his faith. They were eminently calculated to introduce the mind of Savonarola to an apprehension of the internal evidences of religion, and the more hidden meaning of Holy Writ. The Bible, indeed, by much reading, he almost knew by rote. Thereto he added prayer, by means of which, in his lonely cell, he learned more and more of the attributes of the Divine Majesty, and of the nature of his commands to fallen man. A German biographer describes Sa- vonarola's temperament as the sanguine-choleric — equally susceptible of hope and anger. The unde- filed conscience expects in the world of man and nature answerable purity, and we may understand the kind and degree of wrath which would be felt by Savonarola, when he discovered that the members of the fraternity he had entered were as much estranged from the principles that animated him as was the world he had abandoned. He found that their con- duct was as much opposed to the precepts of the New Testament as to the state of his own feelings. They were in antagonism both to the written and unwrit- ten revelation, which he acknowledged as consenting oracles of the same Divine Truth. He had to recon- cile both, with what he had experienced of the pro- vidential government of the universe. Had he erred in his interpretation of either ? Such were some of the important considerations that induced Savonarola to pause before he accepted the office of the priesthood. In fact, he hesitated long. He had received a call to a pious life, and yet CH. I. WHAT IS THE CATHOLIC CHURCH ? 51 he svished to remain a lay-teacher. It is evident that he was so little pleased with the Clergy, with whom he was acquainted, that he had no desire to receive ordination at their hands — perhaps, might even have doubted its validity. Above all, as is proved by his conduct then and subsequently, he was solicitous to preserve for himself to the fullest extent both liberty of conscience and freedom of opinion. This is a point which ought not to be concealed, any more than the small reverence for the ministers or external rites of the visible church which he dared, in an age of corruption, to entertain. ' Would you have your son a wicked man,' he was wont to say, — ' make him a priest; — O, how much poison will he swal- low ! ' At other times, he alleged that he had 'found no gospel, commanding that we should keep in the Church crosses of gold, or silver, or other pre- cious things ; but he had found in the gospel, ' I was an hungered and ye gave me no meat, I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink.' ' ' God,' he said, ' will take away the mitres, the hats, the jurisdiction of the prelates,' and gave as his reason, that while he and those who acted with him ' lived like Christians, the prelates of the Church of Rome lived like pagans.' His tendencies, in fine, were all favourable to a purely personal, rather than to a ceremonial religion. Even organs and scientific singing were displeasing to him — ' they were introduced into the Church,' he said, ' by the devil, to prevent mental devotion, and delighted the senses without producing spiritual fruits.' Nor had he any very great faith in the catholicity of the Church of Rome. ' To the Ca- tholic Church,' he exclaimed, ' I speak thus. Thou art Peter ! But as to what constitutes the Catholic Church, there are various opinions among theologians. We will put aside the dispute and say this : — strictly speaking, the Catholic Church consists of those p 2 52 CASSIAN. B. II. Christians who live good lives and have the grace of God. Less accurately, it consists of those who only possess the faith ; but to explain what the Catholic Church is, I ever refer to Christ and to the decision of the Church.' Such were the opinions of Savonarola, which after- wards he boldly expressed v.hen he became a priest. Heretical as they may appear, endeavours have been made by apologists to bring them within the pale of Roman orthodoxy. The chief of these, Neri, defends Savonarola at great length, and interprets such and similar passages in the manner he thought best calcu- lated at once to conciliate the Church, and to rescue the memory of his client from the calumnious patron- age of ' that rascal Luther,' who had (as already mentioned) associated the name of Savonarola with that of John of Hiiss and Jerome of Prague among the martyrs of Protestantism. Nor must we over- look the fact that such opinions were not inconsistent with patristic precedent and authority, nor with the course of study which Savonarola had pursued. It becomes, therefore, an interesting enquiry, to ascertain how far the learning of Jerome, the genius of Augustine, and the judgment of Cassian were re- sponsible for the opinions of Savonarola ? Cassian, a native of Syria, was the founder of that moderate system of doctrines, since termed semi-Pela- gianism, which, together with that of Pelagius him- self and his followers, was resisted by Augustine. The root of Pelagianism is to be found in the doctrine that ascribes a self-determining free-will to man, irrespective of divine grace, in order to goodness ; the ramifications are contained in the following list of errors charged against Celestius, the associate of Pelagius, and which were condemned in a council held at Carthage in the year 412. — First, that Adam was created mortal, and would have died, whether he CH. I. HIS SYSTEM. 53 had sinned or not; 2. that the sin of Adam injured himself alone, not the human race ; 3. that infants, at their birth, are in the condition of Adam before his sin ; 4. that neither the death nor sin of Adam is the cause of man's mortality, nor the resurrection of Christ of his resurrection ; 5. that man may be saved by the law as well as by ttie Gospel ; 6. that before the coming of Christ tliere had been men with- out sin ; 7. that infants inherit eternal life without Baptism. The words free-will and grace, however, had not, up to this date, appeared in the controversy. But when Augustine took part in it they soon began to appear. Augustine had to argue that the internal and immediate operation of the Holy Spirit is neces- sary, both to awaken us to religious feeling and to assist our progress in a holy life. By this course of argument his mind was elevated to the metaphysical bearings of the subject, and he ventured on some novelties which have ever since continued to agitate the Church. The system of Cassian avoided the extremes of Pelagius -on the one hand, and those of Augustine on the other. It regards with equal suspicion the assertion of man's absolute independence of Divine aid, and that which subjects him to the influence of an irresistible fatalism. This compromise, however, is as little tenable as semi-calvinism, in our own day, while the difficulties against which they were directed are now effectually met by the mere statement of the philosophical laws, according to which spirit acts on spirit, and matter on matter — the first operating by moral suasion, the latter by physical coercion. By virtue of the mutual freedom with which spirit acts on spirit, we may admit the possibility of man's frustrating the designs of God in his favour, without being driven to the absurdity of maintaining that the human will is, in such cases, stronger than the F 3 54 DOCTRINE OF ELECTION. B. II. Divine. Their voluntary concurrence is what is meant by the communion of the Holy Spirit with that of the Believer. That election into the Church is of free unmerited grace, is the concurrent testimony of most of the Fathers ; but there were others who desired to sub- stitute some minor positions for the main proposition — to assign, in fact, reasons for the Divine purpose, which, as existing in the Divine Will, was as such above any reason that could be predicated as a distinct influence. Origen, for instance, supposed that God was regulated in his decree by reference to some good already done by the individual in a pre-existent state ; and Clement of Alexandria thought that the Divine prevision of the good which such individual would do in time, was the cause of his election by God in eternity. Touching Origen, it may be doubted whether his doctrine is more than an exoteric state- ment of an esoteric truth ; with regard to Clement, his error consists in assuming a part for the whole. St. Paul identifies in the prior unity of the Divine purpose the whole development of which it was capable, to wit, prevision of holiness, predestination to holiness, vocation, justification, and glorification. Thus it is that the worst errors of doctrinal men are, after all, no worse than partial truths ; and secta- rianism, however heretical, is only the maintenance of one verity at the expense of all the rest. Among the novelties introduced by Augustine to the consideration of the Church, was his peculiar view of the Catholic doctrine of election. Previously to this it was the general belief, that the term implied no more than an admission into the visible Church militant — Augustine refined upon the doctrine, and referred it only to those who should be finally saved — those, in fact, who should constitute the invisible Clmrch triumphant. He distinguished between one CIl. I. INDIVIDUAL TYPES. 55 professing believer and another, anticipating the eter- nal doom of each. It was this doctrine which en- abled Savonarola to look beneath the gown and cowl of the priest, and see the hypocrite — to condemn the prelacy of Paganism — and to denounce many of the customs of the Church as superstitions. The ques- tion, however, may reasonably arise, whether the dis- tinction thus instituted must not and does not always virtually obtain ? Confine the election to the visible Church, and we are compelled to admit that some members of the election are holy individuals, while others are unholy ; and that the latter both may and will perish everlastingly. The theory of Augustine asserts the same fact, and no more ; but it endea- vours to account for it by a prior and superior elec- tion into the Church invisible. Instances of individual reprobation and election are cited from the Sacred Scriptures — such as of Cain and Abel, Ishmael and Isaac, Esau and Jacob, --but, accord- ing to the early fathers, even including Jerome, they are to be understood only as types of the synagogue and the Church, and of the younger superseding the elder dispensation. Such was also the ecclesiastical idea as held by the primitive Church. Passing from the Church to the New Testament, the same idea may doubtless be found, but not in the same exclu- sive manner, nor with the same intense significancy. Until interpreted by the Church, the New Testament contains no text which gives sacramental efficacy to the Church as an institution, and her sacraments themselves become such only through her own inter- pretation. As very properly insisted on by some modern Tractarians, there is in the New Testament, as separately considered, ' no system of doctrine ' — ■ ' no proposed intermediation between the believer and the Christ, such as sacraments, ministers, rites and observances ' — ' nothing, indeed, of what may 56 ASSUMPTION OF THE VIRGIK. B. II. be called sacramental, ecclesiastical, or mysterious in its general tone, but much that is moral, rational, elevated, impassioned.' Instead of the solemn, we find the familiar — instead of the literal, we have the symbolical — instead of the physical the mental. For the ' sacred elements of the Eucharist,' we are pre- sented with ' the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.' Its celebration is spoken of as if it were only a simple ordinary meal, not as a special feast, having a full and awful meaning. In fine, the im- pression left by the New Testament on the mind is, ' not that of a priesthood and its attendant system, still less that of an established, endowed, dignified Church.' The Church that it contemplates is one into which whoever is baptized is incapable of sin, and therefore is unprovided with penitential exercises for its possible occurrence. Hence it is argued, that the Bible needs to be interpreted by the Church, in order to conform the precepts of one with the prac- tices of the other \ It may seem singular at first sight that a man like Augustine, whose speculations had such a tendency to undervalue the visible institution, should have been the first to settle the question, long doubtful in the Church of Rome, concerning the assumption of the Blessed Virgin. Jerome even had feared to affirm it, but "Augustine" (says the Jesuit, Salmeron), "settled it with many arguments, by which adventure the Church hath gained this, that persuaded by his rea- sons she hath believed it, and celebrates it in her worship ^" But the fact will receive an important interpretation, if we discern that by his doctrine of election, Augustine had actually translated the Church from earth into heaven, which in a figure is under- stood by the assumption of the Virgin. 1 Tracts for the Times. No. 85. ' Sjiimaron's Di?p. 51, in Epist. ad Rom. CH. I. ARTICLES OF THE CHUUCII. 57 Accustomed to contemplate in ecstatic vision the heavenly Jerusalem, no wonder that Savonarola was discontented when, returning to the common world, he looked down upon the earthly one, and accord* ingly preferred remaining a lay-brother in a religious order, to claiming a title which, in his eyes, conferred no essential distinction on the possessor. He was already a priest, and cared not to be so denominated. But the Church on earth is necessarily bound by different laws, and her members are subject to various conditions. While upon the one hand it accepts the ideal as the standard of perfection, on the other it must regard the possible as the measure of its fulfil- ment. While it glories, therefore, in the mind ca- pable of the sublimest intuitions, it requires that it should condescend to the restrictions which are ren- dered expedient by the infirmity of weaker brethren. Hence the Church of Rome tacitly accepted the doc- trines of Augustine, as perhaps necessarily implied (according to his own statement) in those which had been expressed by earlier fathers ; and the Church of England has so framed her articles as to justify the glosses of the Calvinist and Arminian, and, in the present Bishop of Oxford's opinion, to permit the interpretation desired by those of the clergy who are supposed most to sympathise with what they errone- ously deem the Mother-church of Christendom For it is the policy of a church to include within her ^ " If, within certain limits, the articles may be so construed as not to force persons of a Calvinistic bias to leave the Church, I do not see why a similar licence w-ithin the same limits is not to be conceded to those whose opinions accord with those of our divines who resisted the puritanical temper of the 16th and 17th centuries ; or why such persons sIkjuIiI be forced into communion with Rome." — Bp. of Oxford's Charge, delivered to the clergy of the diocese of Oxford, May 1842. 58 EXTREME PROTESTANTISM. B. It. fold the largest possible number of believers of every shade of opinion. Nor is it politic only, but right also ; since exclusive views are not only extreme, but one-sided, and impair the claim of any commu- nity that adopts them, to the Catholicity which ought to be predicated of every church, that would vindicate its establishment as a national or international insti- tution. Savonarola, looking too exclusively upon the hea- venly side of things, was not apt enough to make allowances for the imperfections that distinguish their earthly aspect. The novelty of Augustine's views also probably pleased his ardent and inventive genius, so kindred to that of the earlier saint. Both Augus- tine and Thomas Aquinas had held that the argu- ment drawn from authority is weak. ^Mien the Do- natists gloried in the multitude of their authors, Augustine answered, " It was a sign of a cause desti- tute of truth, to rely only upon the authority of many men, who may err." WTiereto Salmeron, quoting him, adds, " As holiness of life purges no man from sin, so it frees no man from danger of error. Every age finds out some verities proper to itself, which the former ages were ignorant of or, as he has it in the margin, " every age hath its peculiar divine reve- lations." Thus corroborated, Savonarola probably set small store by the canon of Tertullian, that " what- ever is first, is true ; whatever is later, is adulterate." And it must be acknowledged that the primitive Christians were concerned chiefly in establishing a community as a visible symbol of election — their office was to initiate an historical fact ; the doctrinal truth was reserved for evolution by their more intel- lectual followers as originally involved in that fact. On the other hand, that extreme protestantism which depends on private judgment alone, and rejects the aid of antiquity, excludes itself from all historical CH. I. PRIVATE JUDGEMENT. 59 evidence to soundness of Scriptural interpretation, and surrenders a great privilege, by despising the moral certainty attending the collating of Scripture with antiquity ; a certainty which, in subjects that by their nature are not susceptible of mathematical demon- stration, is the highest attainable, unless, indeed, revealed truth be brought to the individual by direct inspiration. To which may be added what the late Mr. Coleridge has said upon this very point — ' That Chilliugworth's position, that the mere text of the Bible is the sole and exclusive ground of Christian faith and practice, is quite untenable against the Romanists. It entirely destroys the conditions of a church, of an authority residing in a religious com- munity, and all that holy sense of brotherhood which is so sublime and consolatory to a meditative Chris- tian The protestant who practically and thoroughly carries out the right of private judgment, undertakes a great responsibility. To him the ministers of the Church in which he has been baptized are neither mediators nor priests ; but he stands face to face with time and with eternity, to make whatever he can of the things of both, and be a revelation to himself. No visible authority of interpretation, no embodied agent of absolution, no temporal head of religious opinion, no judge, no advocate, no daysman between him and his Saviour ; he stands forth, stript in the arena, valued more for what he is than for what he has — if a layman ; or — if a professional man — the office to which he would pretend, or may have been ap- pointed. For an individual undertaking this respon- sibility, it is desirable that he should have been well — nay even normally educated ; it is expedient that he should be a man of genius ; it is necessary that * Table Tallijp. 240. vol. I. 1st ed. 60 AUGUSTINE. B. II. lie should be emphatically a temple of the Holy Spirit. In a word, that he should really be in that state of divine illumination which has always been claimed as a special gift by the professed mystic. These considerations will help us in picturing to our mind Savonarola, during this period of transition, occupied intently in the perusal of the works of Augustine, and, in anticipation of Calvin, but under far other circumstances, generating republican notions of Church government in the very bosom of a pseudo- theocracy. We may image him glowing with admi- ration of the celebrated Father, who by his victory over the sect of the Donatists, had deserved so well of the Church universal — but his warmest sympathy would be rendered to the poetic spirit, that sufficed to subdue the original repugnance of Augustine to all study, and presented him as it were with a magic key, whereby the gate of learning was ultimately opened to him, not only with facility but delight. On his early Manichean heresies and his subsequent return to Catholic communion, Savonarola doubt- less lingered with some interest; — but it was by the splendid results of Augustine's eloquence, which, while he was yet a presbyter, persuaded the people to aban- don the hereditary practice of accompanying the Christian Agapse with unseemly revelry and pagan additions, that Savonarola would be most strongly attracted. He wondered not at its subsequent triumphs over the Manichean and Donatist heresies. But whatever glory might accrue from these con- troversies, it faded utterly before the importance that attached to the dispute between Augustine and Pela- gius, Celestius, Julian, and their followers. Against these he had to defend the following great doctrines : — 1. That the grace of God is given independently of man's merits. — 2. That whatever may be the com- parative righteousness of any one particular man, no ClI. I. VERBAL DIFIERENCES. 61 person lives in this corruptible body without incurring the actual guilt of a certain degree of positive sinful- ness. — 3. That we are all born obnoxious to the sin of the first man ; and, consequently, are all subjected to damnation, unless the guilt which is contracted in our generation, be removed by our regeneration. In defending these points, he contended that the Catho- lic Church had always held the allied doctrines of original sin and unmerited grace. As he warmed in the argument, he first struck out the novel idea of elec- tion, which subsequently received from him elaborate development in his treatise on ' Correction and Grace,' and which ultimately was adopted by Calvin. The discrepancy between the tenets of Augustine and Calvin, are only apparent and verbal. Both hold the doctrine of predestination — without pre- vision or reference to pre-existence — in both its branches ; both hold, too, the doctrine of particular redemption, and the final perseverance of the elect ; but in regard to the doctrine of regeneration, they express themselves differently. Calvin attached to the term regeneration a sense not intended by Augus- tine : — namel}', ' a moral change of disposition super- added to a federal change of condition.' This moral change Augustine distinguished by another term ; — to wit, conversion. Both agree in the doctrine, that long after infant baptism, a moral change or conversion of the heart is possible to the adult. Augustine goes the extent of adding, that it is impossible to the in- fant. Strange it is, that writers who perceive readily enough that this disparity between Augustine and Calvin is mainly verbal, should not be likewise able to perceive, that the difference between Augustine and the Primitive Fathers is also of the same charac- ter. For what is the patristic doctrine, reduced to a convenient formula, but this ? that though all be- G 62 PERSONAL ELECTION. B. II. lievers are redeemed, yet all believers are not saved. If the Church, therefore, held not the doctrine of particular redemption, she did hold virtually that of particular salvation ; and this is all that is meant by either Augustine or Calvin. True, she was silent upon the point, but Augustine drew no dishonest infer- ence, as is pretended, in interpreting her silence into consent. She admitted the fact, if she did not avouch the doctrine. The expressed doctrine itself Augus- tine claims as the discovery of his own genius — as a personal revelation. In writing to the objectors Prosper and Hilary, he recommends prayer as the means of obtaining the like revelation. Both he and the Church had yet to learn that its peculiar revela- tions were denied to any age — that a theological dis- covery was impossible — or that the priest who exer- cised his genius in the service of religion was a traitor to his order. There is then, first, an election from out the world — next an election from out the visible Church — the first a matter of history, the second unsusceptible of historical statement. This is the reason why the patristic divines before Augustine are silent on it — they dealt with historical facts ; for the philosophical truth which the fact represented, the philosopher was required, and to him when he appeared it was re- vealed. It was, however, as we have seen, always necessa- rily implied, and perhaps it is assuming too little to concede, that it was only implied — at any rate, such utter silence cannot be predicated of the Scriptures, new or old. The fathers confess, that according to holy writ, election was made of some individuals — but pretend that they were elected as types, thus illogically reviving the defunct argument of prevision. Not because they were to be types of future Churches, but because of the absolute will of God were they CH. I. PATRISTIC DOCTRINES. 63 elected, or pretermitted. Ar " it is written, Jacob have I loved, but Esau have 1 hated." Whether then the election of such individuals related to their redemption only, or their salvation also, it was purely personal, and of free grace. Moreover, when we consider what the divine Being and Purpose in dispute are, we shall find that neither the doctrine of pre-existence nor prevision can have any logical right to the prothetic place in the argu- ment. What can precede an Eternal Purpose ? To an Eternal Being must not all creation and time be present at once, and prescience therefore be altogether transcended by prehension ? In this sense — the doc- trine of predestination becomes identical with that of Divine providence, which never forsakes the works of the Divine Creator : and the question, whether redemption be general or particular, is the same with that of a general or particular providence. God, in the exercise of his infinite love, raises up in all times and all places, inspired persons, who live to exemplify his mercy, for their own benefit and that of others. Such are themselves redeemed from the world, and exist for the world's redemption ; to wit, — for its restoration into its original state, when the church and the world were co-extensive. The whole is prior to its parts, but separation being made, reunion is effected by the gradual collection of the parts into the whole — i. e. proceeds from one to many, from many to all, which all was originally one — as in Adam, and in the family of Noah. Though contending that 'all the members of the elect Catholic Church, inasmuch as they are the com- ponent parts of the election, constitute individually the elect people of God,' the patristic divines before Augustine conceded to the Deity the right and power of saving whom He willed, directly and immediately, G 2 64 RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY. B. U. among the heathen, without reference to the Church, and although such heathen had never been privileged to hear the name of the Redeemer of men. The Augus- tinian divines insist on granting the Deity the same right and power, as well in as out of the Church, con- tending that in the former case the predestination to life is as direct and immediate as in the latter. Ac- cording to both, when interpreted fairly, the redemp- tion is to all mankind, though salvation is realized only by some. ' Many, both in the Church and the World, are called— but few chosen.' The real ques- tion relates only to the necessary intervention of the priesthood, in regard to the Church — and against this the peculiar tone of the New Testament is confessedly directed. From what has been stated, the rationale of the doctrine, when thoroughly conceived in the integrity of Catholic truth, appears to be this: — The visible Church included at the beginning the whole of the human race — in process of time individuals, and at length the general body of mankind, apostatized from truth and justice. Nevertheless, God has always had on earth his witnesses, many or few. Every where ' wisdom has entered into holy souls and made them friends of God and prophets.' — Such indi- viduals, justly considered the elect among men, both by precept and example, have induced others to unite in religious community. Thus Abraham and his family laid the foundations of a Church, — not exist- ing for the exclusive advantage of its members, but for that of the race ; for, as was said by Cyril of Alex- andria, ' the election of the Hebrews is the calling of the Gentiles.' When this Church, (being subject to a like apostasy as the original one) fell into decay, the process recommenced in a new but similar series, which has not yet come to an end. Now the recondite possibility of the whole process lies in the assumption, CH. I. SAVONAROLA AND LUTHER. 65 that, at any time and in any place, when wanted, one or more of these gifted initiators of a new or revived institution or doctrine may, and will rise up from among the vulgar mass of mankind, and, inspired by God, set a better example than that to which men had been ordinarily accustomed. But as it lies in the will of God to call such as shall fraternize with those who follow the good example when set, so likewise it lies in the will of God to ordain afterward and ultimately, who shall realize the character and conduct thereby required ; in the latter case a special inspiration is of necessity assumed. That revelation which Augustine fearlessly partici- pated with the earliest apostles, we must not be sur- prised if we discover Savonarola deeming it no robbery to partake. Having also been distinctly taught an absolute submission to the merciful sovereignty of God — and entertaining a strong feeling of gratitude to Divine love, which had consecrated him for one of his elect ; he was prepared to contend that, not because of any prevision of man's fitness or worthiness— not be- cause of any pre-existent virtue (except indeed His in whom alone God loved the world, and who is himself both God and Man) — but only because of God's sove- reign will, and wisdom, and mercy — are either societies or individuals chosen to be the educators or foster- gods of the human family. The conduct and fortune of Savonarola on being admitted to the monasterjl at .Bologna, singularly contrasts with that "oFTiUther when accepted at the convent of Erfurth. Luther went as a student, and was aggrieved at being compelled to pass his novi- tiate as a servant — Savonarola preferred the office _of a servant; but the superiors of his convent elevated him to the rank of a teacher. There were differences, doubtless, in the discipline of the two establishments — there were also manifest differences in the temper G 3 66 CORRUPTION AND GRACE. E. II. of the two men. The apprenticeship however tliat each served, was suited to the design of Providence in regard to his calling and election. Both agreed in a like estimation of the writings of Augustine, and equally felt to the inmost core a sense of human cor- ruption and divine grace. CHAPTER II. SAVONAROLA A PRIEST. Savonarola always a Reformer — Extracts from liis earliest poems — Monastic, not Christian, life — Old and New Testa- ments — Church authority and the Bible — Digression on Chillingwortli — Who are Apostles in the priesthood^ — True Catholic Apostolicity — Extract from Savonarola's ' Trion della Croce' — Prayer — Meritorious obedience — Power of his conversation — Penitent Soldiers — Preaches first in the church of Lorenzo at Florence — Returns to his monastery. Seven years were passed by Savonarola in his lay novitiate, travelling from place to place by the direc- tion of his order, and teaching from cloister to clois- ter. It has been already shown that the foundations of each monastic establishment were the need and wish for the reformation of manners — they became the nurseries for the reformation of doctrines. Sa- vonarola was in spirit a Reformer lo.ig before he sought admittance into the monastery — he desired reform for the world, for his family, for himself. Him- self? Herein lay the source of his feeling the need, and desiring reform for the Church. By self-examina- tion he had gained an intuition of thnt inner world, to the idea of which it was the duty of the Church to give bodily expression. How soon he passed on to the natural inference is evidenced by the two Can- zoni, to which allusion has already been made — De Ruina Mundi, written in 1472 ; and De Ruina Eccle- sise, written in 1475 ; poems having a double inte- 68 DE RUINA ECCLESIjE. B II. rest, as being the only extant examples of his poetical essays previous to his entering the monastic life, and as showing the inmost state of his religious feeling, and by what bonds he was connected, both with the Church and the World. Let us collect together some scattered lines of these — the whole being too long, and indeed any separate entire paragraph inconvenient for quotation. ' Not only all virtue and good morals, but even shame has disappeared before the prevalence of vice ; nay, vice being practised with cunning, attains in the world honour and distinction, while virtue starves, and the scorn of it receives reward. Luxury is the philosophy of the day. They who walk on the straight path are esteemed fools.' ' The old chaste time of the first Church has de- parted. Rome, polluted with all vices, rushes on towards a second fall. But to denounce her condi- tion, is only to excite fruitless enmity. Nothing then remains, but to lament silently, and to hold fast the hope of a better future.' One stanza in the original, from the latter piece, may serve as a profitable example. ' Di poi, Madonna, dissi : se'l vi piace Che con voi pianga, I'alma si contenta : Qual forza vi ha cosi del regno spenta ? Qual arrogante rompe vostra pace ? Risposc suspirando : Una fallace, Superba meretrice Babilonia. Ed io : Deh per Dio, Donna, Se rompersi potria quelle grande ale ? E lei : Lingua mortale Non puo, ne lice, non che muover I'arme. Tu, piaiigi e taci : e questo meglio parme '.' ' Then, I exclaimed : — Madonna ! should she please. Weep I witli thee, my soul will be contented — What power has quenched thj- own, thy reign tormented ? cn. 11. Savonarola's lecturks. 69 Perliaps, Savonarola thought that institutions which reformers had founded, would prove the most fitting shelter for congenial spirits. If such had heen liis expectation, he was not long ere he expenenced dis- appointment. The course which his studies were taking, was calculated to make him less and less contented with the actual condition of monastic esta- blishments in his time. The task of lecturing, to which he had been appointed, he diligently pursued, and was so successful in its exercise, that he attracted and attached many scholars. But the subject of his discourse caused him to refer for illustration to the ' Lives of the Old Fathers,' and the ' Meditations' of Augustine, and the ' Collationes Patrum' of Cassian, and by these sources of information his conscience ■was so enlightened, that it might not contemplate ■with any satisfaction, the deficiencies and darkness of the mode of life wherewith he had now become intimately acquainted. He still continued his study of Thomas Aquinas, nay, studied him with greater intensity than ever, confessing that he received more profit and delight from the clearness and profundity of this theologian, than from the speculative ingenuity of any philosopher, not even excepting Plato, of whom he now began to entertain a lower regard than for- merly, condemning, indeed, the opinion which held him of ' divine' authority, as an error of the age. But the ' angelic' theologian was his master ; him he reverenced, and in reading his works always felt humiliation, as in the presence of a superior intellect. What arro;;ance now violiit''S thy peace ! She answers sigliing — Falsehood mars iny ease — Proud meretricious Babylon's oppression. And I : Ah ! but such huge transgression That, by God's aid, I, Lady ! might diminish ! Then she : Such speech must finish ; Not lawful aught that moves to insurrection — Thou — weep in silence ; 'tis thy best protection ! 70 OLD AND NEW TESTAMENTS. B. II. But whatever might be the relative estimation in which he held his favourite authors, they combined to form in his mind a standard, that alike condemned the customs of every cloister he visited, where he failed to find the example he sought of that elevation and simplicity which rightly belong to the Christian life, and ever accompany it when manifested in its native purity. Further progress yet awaited him. At length his books ceased to charm — his soul ceased to affect the food presented by the current religious treatises. Nothing would satisfy him but the sacred Scriptures themselves — therein he wished to lay sure the foun- dations of his belief and practice. Henceforth to study them — to obey them — to solve whatever diffi- culties might be contained in them, and to apply the results to his conscience, became the chief occupation of his existence. He held them in the highest hon- our, treated them with enthusiastic reverence, and was forward to acknowledge that his gratitude was due to them for all his light, his consolation, and better tendencies. Nor was his reading confined to the New Testament — he had indeed great partiality for the Old. The brothers of his order were surprised at this predilection of Savonarola for a book which had fallen into such neglect in the seats of religion ; — most of all, they wondered at the great attention and re- gard which he paid to the more ancient writings. ' Why,' demanded the monks of Savonarola, ' do you study the Old Testament ? Surely it is of no use to go over again the past, and perplex our minds with the understanding of fulfilled histories ? ' To this question Savonarola replied by another — ' For what purpose then has God preserved these writings ? and why have the fathers of the Church equally expounded the Old Testament and the New, cn. n. CHURCH AUTHORITY, 71 and recognized the inter-dependency of the one with the other ? ' Not a reason for study, but an excuse for tlieir indolence, was what the monks had desired — so they left Savonarola unanswered, and the Scriptures un- read. Can we wonder at the ultimate reaction in favour of the Bible, as opposed to the Church, w-hen the Church had so long practically resigned her gift of interpretation, and abandoned her evidences to oblivion ? She had already been guilty of one ex- treme, and the equilibrium had no chance of restora- tion without the assertion of another. The assumption of the Church's authority had come to be used only as an apology for the habit of adopting religious opinions or pious practices, without examination. It served as a plea for the inconsider- ate, and saved the indolent the trouble of reflection. Thus, as is observed by Chillingworth, the Church in time resembled a ' company of blind men, pre- suming to judge of colours, or the choice of a way • — for every unconsidering man is blind in that which he does not consider — all of whom, either out of idle- ness refused the trouble of a severe trial of their religion (as if heaven were not worth it), or out of superstition feared the event of such a trial, that they might be scrupled, or staggered, or disquieted by it ; and therefore, for the most part, did it not at all : or if they did it, they did it negligently and hypocriti- cally, and perfunctorily, rather for the satisfaction of others than themselves ; but certainly without in- difference, without liberty of judgment, without a resolution to doubt of it, if upon examination the grounds of it proved uncertain, or to leave it, if they proved apparently false.' Such was the decision of Chillingworth, such was the experience of Luther in the convent of Erfurth — such that of Savonarola in the diiferent Dominican cloisters in which he sojourned. 72 UNINSPIRED PASTORS. B. II, Now mark the logical conclusion from this ex- perience. Granting that the historical succession of apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors and teachers, in the Church of Rome is what was intended by the apostle to the Ephesians, we are compelled to ask, where are the extraordinary powers and supernatural gifts which are predicated of such in the New Tes- tament, and how are they manifested in those in- considerate and unreflecting souls, who have too frequently undertaken to minister at the Christian altar ? In the want of this requisite proof, a Chilling- worth may rationally, as he does actually, argue, that if God had really promised such historical succes- sion, he would have made good his promise, which it is evident he has not done. Whereunto, says he, * if any man except, that though the apostles and prophets, and evangelists, were extraordinary, and for the plantation of the gospel, yet pastors were ordinarj' and for continuance ; I answer, it is true, some pastors are ordinary, and for continuance, but not such as here spoken of ; not such as are endowed with the strange and heavenly gifts which Christ gave not only to his apostles, and prophets, and evangelists, but to the inferior pastors and doctors of his Church, at the first plantation of it. And there- fore St. Paul, in 1 Cor. xii. 28, (to which text we are referred by the margin of the vulgar translation, for the explication of this) places this gift of teaching amongst, and prefers it before, many other miracu- lous gifts of the Holy Ghost. Pastors there are still in the Church, but not such as Titus, and Timothy, and Apollos, and Barnabas. Not such as can justly pretend to immediate inspiration and illumination of the Holy Ghost. And, therefore, seeing there neither are, nor have been, for many ages in the Church, such apostles and prophets, &c., as here Eu-e spoken of, it is certain God promised none : or, otherwise. CH. II. APOSTOLICAL AUTHORITY. 73 we must blasphemously charge him with breach of his promise.' Chillingworth, accordingly, again refers to the text of Scripture, in order to ascertain whether it would not bear such an interpretation as would comport with the fact as it has actually occurred. Re-examin- ing therefore the passage (Ephes. iv. 11 — 13), he finds that no succession was expressed or implied — • nothing more being stated than that the Redeemer had upon his ascension miraculously endowed his immediate apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers — for the work of the ministry, for the consummating of the saints, for the edification of the body of Christ, till such time as all believers should be beyond the need of teaching ; which work those same immediate propagandists may be said in good sense to have done, not only in their own time, but at any time afterwards, and still to do, — not in their own persons certainly, bnt by their writings, which are yet sufficient to preserv-e students from conducting themselves ' like children, wavering, and carried up and down with every wind of doctrine,' and to promote that special purpose more effectually than the dogmatic unreflecting traditionary process of the Roman communion. Chillingworth sums up the argument in these few words : — 'The apostles and prophets, &c., that then were, do not now in their own persons, and by oral instruc- tion, do the work of the ministry, to the intent we may be kept from wavering, and being carried up and down with every wind of doctrine ; therefore they do this some other way. Now there is no other way by which they can do it but by their writings ; and, therefore, by their writings they do it ; there- fore by their writings and believing of them, we are 74 WHO ARE APOSTLES ? B. 11. to be kept from wavering in matters of faith : there- fore the Scriptures of the apostles, and prophets, and evangelists, are our guides ; therefore not the church of Rome.' It was the presence and the pressure of this great fact upon their actual experience, that drove Calvin and Luiher, and Savonarola, and Augustine, from the testimony of the Church to that of the Bible, in- terpreted by the Spirit, templed in the hearts and consciences of each, and specially illuminating them for its interpretation. Savonarola too recognizedthe authority of human reason in matters of fauh, and thus expresses himself on the subject, in the prefage to one of his works — ' THonfo della Croce.' ' Though it is a common saj^ing, that faith has no virtue when there is a proof from human reason ; (since this refers to those who otherwise would not believe, and therefore believing only because they are compelled by reason, their faith has no virtue) yet who being first enlightened by God, without other proof, embraces the faith ; if he afterwards in- vestigates the arrament for it to confirm himself and others, such an one deserves praise from God and man. The prince of apostles, St. Peter, exhorting us, "be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you." And as in this book we mean to insist only on argu- ment, we shall not rest upon any authority, but shall proceed in such manner as if we were not to believe any man in the world, however wise, but only our natural reason.' Savonarola was now a priest. Cherishing the sen- timents he did, it was not likely that he would de- pend only or mainly on his ordination rite, but rather on his personal befitting for the office. Pur- suing the theory of Augustine, he would enquire not only who are the elect in the Church, but who are CH. II. CUURCII HISTORY UNIVERSAL. 7.> the apostles in the priesthood ? and would confine its validity to the chosen few, and not to the called many. He defends the reasonableness of Christianity itself, on the ground only of the genuine piety of its professors. Thus he writes — ' If it appear a hard thing to believe the crucified Jesus to be God and man — reflect, if there were an error, faith in it would not be generated, nourished and increased more easily by a Christian life, than by any other. Surely, if this belief were false, its untruth could not be hidden from the holiest men, especially in their prayer and meditation on divine things ! But we see that these confirm it more than all others. Were it vain, they would not have such gladness, tranquillity, and free- dom of mind. Christians would not reckon tribula- tions among their joys and consolations. If the Christian faith produced all this without miracles, that were indeed the greatest of miracles.' Savonarola's religious evidences were all moral and spiritual — of the historical he took little account. Nevertheless, if we examine history in the light of the evidence he adopted, we shall find that it corro- borates holy writ precisely in those points, where to the merely historical enquirer the proof is defective. Thus, as we have seen, it is impossible to make out a succession of apostles in the historical chain, if con- fined to a particular church and system — but elevate the vision and enlarge the horizon, and immediately a different prospect is presented. Church history presents us then with a noble army of initiators, both ordained and unordained — called and chosen in both cases by direct and immediate divine inspiration. The fathers of the Vaudois in their Alpine solitudes — the protestant mountaineers in Dauphine — the Albigeois — perhaps also the Cathari, the Gazari, Paterini, Publicani, and others — certainly Savonarola — Reuchlin — Luther —Calvin — thus all come in proof H 2 7» APOSTOLICITY UNIVERSAL. B. II. of succession, without any need of tracing tliem through historical institutions to early ages. Enough, that the wind blowing where it listeth, (and no one can tell whence it cometh nor whither it goeth,) had filled them with the witness of the Spirit, and given them credential of authority in the fact of their individual regeneration, to become in turn generators of com- munities. Always, too, pious and enthusiastic indi- viduals have from the earliest times to the latest, and in every part of the world, and in the bosom of every Christian assembly, whether mystically disposed, or plain and literal in their faith, served as examples of righteousness, and taught the precepts of verity to their own immediate circles of neighbours or friends. Some writers, too, believe, that theosophic fraternities have at all times existed, whose history has not been written, only because it is their policy to pre- serve their secrets from profanation. And seeing that the orthodox faith of the primitive fathers per- mits us to recognize the benefits of Christ's death, as extending even to the heathen, who knew not the name of their Redeemer, and the possibility of God's grace operating to their final salvation, without the intervention either of Scripture, priest, orinstitution, — every person of eminent virtue, of whatever denomi- nation, creed, complexion, or country under heaven, may be claimed as a worthy Son of the same parental Deity, who ' has made of one blood all nations of men.' The most universal acceptation then of Catho- lic verity will not permit us to apply the doctrine of apostolical succession in a carnal sense, and thereby limit and confine it to a semi-hereditary series of ordained persons in a Cliristian society or two, from among the many God has seen fit to raise up for his own good purposes, in the midst of a world lying else in moral darkness and spiritual death. Each eccle- siastical fellowship presents its own class of historical CII. (I. MEN OF GENIUS. 77 facts, and must be included in the induction that is to corroborate the principle of perpetual apostolicity as contained in holy writ. Of these historical corrobo- rations, the Church of Rome presents one class, the Greek Church another, the Anglican Church another, the Presbyterian Churches another, and the various sects other classes. In this point of view, we are not simply driven to Cliillingworth's necessity of accept- ing the writings of deceased apostles for the only teachers of the will of God, but have in addition enough of living example and precept to induce us to imitation, and persuade us to believe. Nor must we omit to number in the list of God's witnesses on earth, men of letters and masters of song, sophists and gnostics, who have at all times enriched Christendom with the gifts of genius. The Primitive unity of the Church included, as we have said, all arts and professions, which have only at a comparatively recent period become separated from the priestly office. Of old, among the Hebrews in like manner there were not only priests, but ora- tors, wise men, and prophets. Also among the Greeks, their sages and poets have survived for the instruction of scholars in all succeeding times and countries. The influence of Uante, Petrarca, and Boccaccio, on modern Italy and on the mind of Savonarola, has already been specified. But per- haps an objection will be raised here, because of the variety of opinion and the infidel character of some of the writings, even of Christian authors. Let us recollect, however, that all literature agrees in one point, — its ideal tendency. Poetry, romance, and philosophy, like religion, stand in contrast with the world, and constantly rebuke its motives- and conduct, by example and precept, satire or ridicule. And in regard even to works professedly atheistic, we siiall find, upon a nice analysis of his production, that, H 3 78 CATHOLICITY OF BELIEF. B. II. ■whatever the author may have meant in the wrath of his heart or the delusion of his understanding, he has been able to do no more than to bring the creeds and customs of his time to trial before the bar of his judgement, and condemn them as short of some standard of purity and excellence, wherewith he would compare them. Thus, however defaced or injured, there is in every heart a shrine of truth, from which God will not be expelled, and in which, wherever he has granted the appropriate intellect, he will make his presence felt and be confessed. For ' the pre- paration of the heart in man, and the answer of the tongue, is from the Lord '." Also, ' There is a spirit in man, and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth men understanding^.' Thus it is that God has sent unto his people from time to time, ' prophets and wise men and scribes though too seldom received with honour and reverence, and too frequently recompensed with obloquy, im- prisonment, and martyrdom. And what if discrepancies of opinion among this cloud of witnesses may be detected, and the nobler and the elder prove more erroneous tlian the meaner and the younger ? ' Great men,' says Elihu, ' are not always wise ; neither do the aged understand judgement \' Even so has it fared with the chief ecclesiastical authorities ; ' popes against popes, coun- cils against councils, some fathers against others, the same fathers against themselves ; a consent of fathers of one age against a consent of fathers of another age, the Church of one age against the Church of another age'.' Shall then the rule of quod semper, quod vbique, qiiod ah omnibus °, be put ' Prov. xvi. ]. ..J xxxii. 8. 3 Matt, xxiii. 34. * Jol) xxxii. 9. ' Cliilliiigworth. * ' Whatever has been believed always, everywhere, and by all.' cn. If. TRUTH IS ETERNAl. 79 aside ? God forbid ! But it should not be carnally interpreted, as holding of time and place, and merely intending traditive interpretation. For truth is eter- nal, whether acknowledged or forgotten in any age, or by any people. ' The always of Divine truth,' says a defender of modern inspiration ' is not the always of time, but of eternity : the everywhere is not that of space, which is finite, but of the spirit of Him who is omnipresent : and the by all, is not that of the many who are called, but of the few who are chosen. A truth, though only the alleged novelty of yesterday, may have in it more of durability, than a doctrine which has lasted from the time of the fall : though confined only to a single spot of earth, it may have in it more of the principle of ubiquity, than an opinion which has spread itself over the globe : though received only by one, it may have in it more of Catholicity, than an opinion which has been re- ceived by one million. Indeed, to test the eternal truth of a doctrine by the number of hours it has lasted, as counted out by the clock — the universality of its nature, by the multitude of superficial miles over which it has extended, by the decrees of human authority, or by the number of voices who have pro- claimed in its favour — is to employ a test which is only worthy of that which can be so tested. Let us, then, concede to the fashions of the world, the prin- ciples of time, space, and custom ; and reserve to our- selves the only characteristics of Divine truth, its intrinsic eternity, infinity and universality.' Thus it is, that while Revelation is final, the Spirit of God is evermore discovering to individuals and to his Church, the meaning of his word, and making both practically and vitally better acquainted with himself ' The Rev. Augustus Clissold, M.A., formerly of Exeter College, Oxon, iii a Letter to Dr. Whateley, Archbishop of Dublin. 80 TRIONFO DELLA CROCE. B. II. and with Divine truth, which, in proportion as it is practical and vital, will prove itself to be productive. There is in its manifestations to man progress and developemeilt, though in itself it remains undiminished and unincreased, immutable and infinite. Immanent in God, it grows in man with his spiritual growth, and strengthens with his spiritual strength. Living as he did in the light of many great truths, Savonarola found it possible, while asserting his right of private judgement in regard to the Scriptures, to maintain his allegiance to the Church in which he had been educated. Nay, with the most perfect con- sistency he could show the deepest reverence for her origin and pretensions, and even render-in his belief in some points from which the Churches of the Re- formation would dissent. This will be sufficiently shown by the following curious passage from the work we lately quoted. ' It has appeared to me ' (says Savonarola in the ' Trionfo della Croce ' treating of the works of Christ, and desiring by means of a symbolical representa- tion to gather them into one view) — ' it has appeared to me necessary to unite all under the image of a triumphal car, in order that the meanest intellect may contemplate them all at once. First, then, let us place before our eyes a car with four wheels, and on it, Christ like a conqueror crowned with thorns and all wounded, thus showing his passion and death by which he overcame the world. Upon his head, a light like the sun, having three faces, represents the Holy Trinity, from whicli proceeds wonderful splen- dour, illuminating his human nature and the whole Church. In the left hand of Christ let there be the cross with all other instruments of his passion, and in the right, the Scriptures of the Old and New Testa- ment. Near his feet, place the chalice with the host, and other vases of oil and balsam with the remaining CH. ir. ALLEGORIES. 81 signs of the Sacraments of the Church. Below this first rank in which Christ is, let there be the most pious Mother of God, the Virgin Mary ; and upon the same elevation with her should he ranged all around vessels of gold, silver, and precious stones full of the ashes and bones of the dead. Before the car, the Apostles and Evangelists, so as to appear dragging it, preceded by the patriarchs and prophets and an innumerable throng of men and women of the Old Testament. Around the car, like a coronet, a very great multitude of martyrs, close to them the doctors of the Church with open books in their hands, and next a countless crowd of virgins adorned with lilies. Afterwards behind the car, an infinite multitude of men and women of every condition, that is, Jews, Grecians, Latins, Barbarians, rich, poor, learned, unlearned, small and great, old and young, who all with one heart praise Christ. Surrounding all these ■we have mentioned let us place an innumerable army of enemies and opponents of the Church of Christ, that is, emperors, kings, princes, potentates, wise men, philosophers, heretics, slaves, freemen, males, females, and people of every tongue and nation. Besides these, be there represented idols fallen and shat- tered, heretical books burned, all sects contrary to Christ refuted, and every other religion overthrown and condemned.' This allegory Savonarola has not left wdthout ex- planation. The Trinity, he declares, is placed at the summit, because from visible we rise to the know- ledge of invisible things. The four wheels represent the four parts of the world which Christ subdues to himself. The seven sacraments are allegories, depict- ing the progress and adjuncts of life. Baptism is birth, confirmation growth, the Eucharist nutrition, penance medicine to heal sickness, &c. The ra- tionality of the doctrine of the real presence is de- 82 VOCAL AND MENTAL PRAYER. B. II. fended on the ground tliat ' nothing is impossible with God,' and the multiplied ceremonies of the Church are \andicated by the consideration, that ' the Spirit, like a physician, prescribes remedies for the infirmi- ties of men's minds, to whom spiritual worship becomes wearisome — slight remedies at first, while the disease is slight, but as it grows worse, they are increased. Those who will always use vocal and not mental prayer, act as if they chose to take medicine perpetually and never to be cured.' Whereupon Savonarola advises, that, ' if it happen by the grace of God, the soul unites itself with him in such love and contemplation, that vocal prayer can no longer be continued without hindering this contemplation, the suppliant should omit the remainder of his vocal and continue his mental orisons, the great object of prayer being attained by such converse with God.' * We worship God,' continues Savonarola, ' not only to honour him, but to obtain from him our hap- piness. A good life being a better way of obtaining blessedness than sacrifices and ceremonies, we must allow that a good life is much more true worship than exterior worship.' Tliis brief passage lets in a world of light on the inner convictions of Savonarola, and enables us to look throtigh the priest into the man. Yet, in other passages we find him struggling with darkness ; asserting for instance the tenet of merito- rious obedience, in the following terms. ' True glory is to do that which thou art not obliged by any natural or divine law to do. Doubtless, it is more meritorious to observe the commandments and the councils than the commandments only.' In his private meditations, however, we find him so far advanced in the search after personal holiness, as to lose sight of the above and other doctrines CIT. II. POWER OF CONVERSATION. 83 and practices without the necessity of formal renun- ciation. They dropped from him as the cotyledons wither away from the unfolded flower. Even after his priestly ordination, Savonarola con- tinued the business of teaching. The certainty and clearness with which he treated scientific questions rendered him extremely popular. His going about from cloister to cloister made no difference in his studies, while the mildness of his manner, the ful- ness of his learning, and the strictness of his disci- pline, won for him every whei'e love, esteem, and honour. His high character and attractive behaviour obtained him also much employment in the confes- sional ; and so great was his influence, that in the most important, as well as the least concerns, unre- served confidence was placed in him, and his advice implicitly followed. None ventured to dispute the commands of a man at once so holy and so wise. In private remonstrances Savonarola was singu- larly happy. One illustrative incident is recorded. On a voyage from Ferrara to Mantua, in company with thirteen soldiers on board the same boat, he is said to have stimulated them by the power and fervor and unction of his discourse, to a penitential confession of very many and enormous iniquities. Instances of this kind, doubtless, led his order and himself to think that, as a preacher, Savonarola would become at once uncommonly effective. An oppor- tunit}' soon occurred of making the trial. There was in the year 1482, a war between Ferrara and Venice, the latter having, from ambition, united with the republics dependent on its govern- ment, in stirring up the pope against the former, for the purpose of ruining the house of Este. The fathers of the Dominican Order were then with Savonarola sojourning in the convent of St. Maria degli Angiola, in Ferrara, and thought it politic to 84 Savonarola's first VREAtiiiXG. B. 11. avoid the perils of war and transfer their schools to some safer locality. Savonarola and others went to Florence. Immediately after his amval, the prior of the Convent of San Marco, Yincenzo Bardello, showed his estimate of Savonarola's talents and reputation by naming him reader ; and it was arranged that in the Lent of 1483 — (the year of Luther's birth) — he should also preach the fast-day sermons. The opportunity long looked for has at length arrived. That fountain of eloquence in the soul of Savonarola, whose living streams had flowed at the lecture-table healingly, and which had refreshed the hearts of companions and of those who came for counsel or confession in private converse, was now to be lifted up in the congregation of believers, and the preacher was to be acknowledged as the orator of salvation, the advocate for God and man. This, and no less a gift than this, was in Savonarola — assurance of it had been felt by him — the ambition for its exer- cise had grown with him ; and now the time has come when it is to do the work for which it had been bestowed. With hopes thus high, Savonarola ascends the pulpit in the Church of Lorenzo at Florence. The congregation is numerous, for hitherto the preachers have been sufficiently attractive, and the new preacher has much celebrity, and from him much is expected. But these hopes and expectations are premature. Savonarola has much to learn before he is perfect as an orator. A constrained carriage, an ungainly figure, a piping voice, have little to please an audience. Day after day the number of hearers diminishes — day after day — till at length only twenty-five are left including women and boys. Nor is Savonarola not aware of the cause, but has left his self-condemnation on record. / * I had,' ' he says, • neither voice, lungs, nor style. My preach- CII. II. HIS FAILURE. 85 iiig disgusted every one. I could not have moved so much as a chicken ! ' ~^ He returned to his monastery with feelings that may be conceived but not described. Must Savonarola renounce his hope? Is there no chance of his becoming even so much as useful as a preacher ? Is the pulpit after all no probable stage for the exertions of a genius felt by the possessor to be of the highest order — for the overflow of an en- thusiasm that is consuming his heart, wherein it had long concentrated itself, and been secretly nourished, like the seething lava beneath the crater, with mate- rials of combustion ? We shall see. I CHAPTER III. SAVONAROLA A TREACHER. Savonarola in Lombardy — Expounds the Apocalypse — Baby- lon a patristic type of Rome — Essential difl'erences between the Gospel of Christ and the religion of Christians — Sixtus IV. and Innocent VIII. — Savonarola preaches at Bi-escia, and denounces impending destruction to the apostate Church of Rome— His prophetic claims — Studies and nritings. It was in the year that gave birth to Luther, when Savonarola made his first, but unsuccessful entrance into the pulpit. His eloquence, like the new-born person of the German reformer, was in its infancy, and none perceived that nevertheless ' Heaven lay about it.' Savonarola, however, was not to be dis- couraged. We read of his making trials in divers towns. His mind was full of truth — he was an artist, if yet a comparatively dumb one ; but he could not rest without making some effort to promulge it — he must teach, if but with a stammering lip. Part of his time he spent in Lombardy, expounding to youths the Scriptures — part in making the preparatory trials just mentioned, at long and accidental intervals, and without publicity. CII. III. THE APOCALYPSE OF ST. JOHN. 87 Sedulous as a biblical student generally, Savona- rola, like most religious enthusiasts, was an ardent admirer and expounder of the Apocalypse. The divinest of poems, this work of the beloved disciple, his Lord's-day holy labour, when, islanded on soli- tary Patmos, the apostle was in the Spirit, and heard behind him a great voice as of a trumpet, — this mar- vellous prophecy has ever affected in an incomparable degree the imagination of the pious, and excited more devout emotion than any other book in the sacred volume. To the mystical mind it has always been an intense subject of meditation, the imprisoned Saint having therein assembled together all the types and symbols, contained elsewhere separately in the records of revelation, with others then for the first time conceived, making thus a grand composite reve- lation, inclusive of the Old and New, as the comple- ment and supplement of both. It is as if God had made up his jewels, and set his seal upon the casket that enshrined the sacred treasures. What increases the interest also is the visionary character of the poem — the manner in which it is believed to open up the designs of Providence to the world's end — thus making the student thereof a seer into the most dis- tant future. There are few who even now are either willing or able to interpret the contents of the Apocalypse in a spi- ritual or moral sense. In a time, when to refer the mystical language of Holy Writ to invisible arcana, was to swim counter to the stream of pntristic autho- rity, what else could be expected but a substitution of one visible thing for another, as the explanation of the mystical term ? If Peter (1 . v. 13) greeted his correspondents with the salutation ' of the co-elect Church which is in Babylon,' the primitive fathers, according to Eusebius, understood him to date from Rome. However fanciful, however strained may I 2 88 ROME BECOME BABYLON. n. II. seem to be their solutions, they never violate this canon — never allow themselves to depart from some literal sense concerning the past, which they merely exchange for some literal sense concerning the pre- sent. Nor has an Augustine yet risen, qualified by his genius to elevate the sublime subject of the Apo- calypse above the terrene level, and to translate its pro-Dantean argument into a revelation of eternity rather than of time. Very early, then, was ancient Babylon accepted as a type of Rome, and the words of the Apocalypse were understood to refer to the corrupt and adulte- rated Christianity, which was so soon established in the seven-hilled city. Savonarola, boldly poetic as were his fancy and imagination, though a Reformer, was yet no innovator. He was a man of genius, but he was also a man of learning. And his learning exer- cised constant control upon the daring of his genius. Purely religious though he was, yet many of the superstitions of the age, as we have already seen, still clung to him : he manifested rather an instinct for the discovery, than a perfected knowledge of the truth. More should not be expected from him under all the circumstances of time and place, and the con- ditions which qualified his intellectual progress. No wonder, therefore, that his zeal should be fired by a never-doubted conviction that Babylon and Rome were synonymous terms. ' What is Babylon,' said Savonarola, ' but Rome ? Babylon signifies confu- sion. There is not in the world greater confusion of crimes and all sorts of iniquity than at Rome. Since they have made it a dwelling for harlots, God will make it a stall for swine and horses ! ' Alas ! the fact only too strongly justified the analogy. The Church of Christ had indeed (to quote from Dr.Tlenry More,) ' degenerated — or rather apo- statized, from the purity of the Gospel into the ab- cH. in. PAOANO-CHRISTIANISM. 89 horred condition of anti-christianism, and yet retained the external possession of Christianity, using indeed the name and history of Christ and his Apostles, but introducing thereupon such a face of idolatry and heathenish superstition, and barbarous cruelty against the true servants of Christ, that by those whose judge- ments are more free and piercing, such a state of the Church cannot but be deemed rather a revival of paganism, than an uninterrupted succession of true Christianity in the world ; or, to use the softest lan- guage that the truth of the thing will admit of, it cannot be judged pure and unadulterate Christianit}% but a kind of pagano-christianism, the pagan rites, idolatries, and superstitions being practised upon Christian objects, and this paganism in this pretended Christianity being maintained with as ferine cruelty as paganism itself was in the time of the heathen emperors.' Alas ! not only in appearance, as they who would accommodate the language of the New Testament to the traditions and ceremonies of the Church in one or two of its historical manifestations, would have us to believe — not only in appearance but in reality, are there great dilferences between the record and the institution. Moreover such dilferences nnist be — for the New Testament presents in all its parts the ideal of a Church, equally existing in an individual and a corporation, while the institution is fain to be content with such compromise as could be effected between the ideal and actual, under specific circumstances of time and place. Nothing can more strictly mark this than the sinless state of human perfection required of every Christian by St. John. For such an one, no special sacrifice would be re- quired, whose life would be all one sacrifice to truth and goodness — no special sacrament needed, whose every meal would be a sacrament — no shrine or altar or sacred building wanted for his devotion, to whom I 3 90 NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY B. II. every place would be altogether holy, and no spot on earth unblessed by Him who made it. How deeply all this was felt by Savonarola, what he says in prayer sufficiently vouches. Such is the character he con- templated as becoming the Christian, and such is the character presented to us in the Gospel — a being carrying about in his person and habits of mind the most hallowed influences, and consecrating the very air in which he moves with the sanctity of his pre- sence. But, alas ! such is not man ! The Christian is his highest style, but who has yet deserved it ? Nominal Christianity from the first was and could only be a corruption of that which gave it birth. Nominal Christianity is not necessarily the religion of Christ — the doctrines of the scholars are not ne- cessarily those of the master. Nominal Christianity is a system made by professed Christians, not by Christ. It follows and embodies the usages of nomi- nal Christians, not the example of Christ, From the Church of Antioch to the present day it has been so, and could not be otherwise. The pure religion of Christ, as revealed in the New Testament, con- templates man as restored to his original purity, as incapable of sin, as a veritable child of God — but nominal Christianity has ever accommodated itself to fallen humanity, sympathized with its errors, and condescended to its infirmities. When it became joined to the world, and was taken into partnership with the state, this was more particularly the case. A more decided compromise was effected between the ideal and the possible ; and at different periods and in different places, nominal Christianity has assumed different phases according to the circumstances and condition of the age and country. But no such com- promise — no such accommodation is contemplated by the Gospels ; on the contrary, their very spirit is directly opposed to it in every shape and in every CM. III. NOT THE RELIGION OF CHRIST. 91 degree. It is of no use deceiving ourselves : for this is the case. It is not that the Gospel precepts are only apparently more pure than the practices of the Church in all times ; hut they are so in very deed and truth. Nor is this conclusion avoided by any necessity for supposing an antecedent institution, as at once their author and interpreter. Granted — there must have been a previous establishment virtually or actually, and acting always in both capacities. What then ? The documents would aim at the same end for which the institution existed, but they would work by different means. The purpose of the insti- tution would be to lead its members to the pursuit of the highest excellence practically ; and the aim of the documents would be to hold up the standard of excellence as the object to be gained. The first would proceed by training an imperfect uninstructed individual, and providing for him means whereby he might be perfected to every good word and work ; this training and preparation — these means would all be adapted to his imperfection and ignorance. The second would be limited to announcing the idea of the utmost excellence, and strictly defining its image; permitting no mutation nor mutilation, but setting aloft and apart the example to be studied, far above and beyond the mists of earthly passion and folly, in the pure ether of wisdom and goodness and power, not to be breathed by the profane, not to be invaded by the unclean. A law is always more strict in its terms than the observance of it can be ; and the per- fection of holiness required by the religion of Christ was never attained by mortal man. Nominal Chris- tianity is just so much as has been realized in time and space, and no more. The religion of Christ is to be found in the New Testament — nominal Chris- tianity in the Church, and real Antichrist in both the Church and the world ; and by so much as one diflfers 92 PERPETUAL IMBECILITY OF THE CHURCH. B. II. from the other, by so much the institutions and cus- toms of the Church ditfer from the religion and morality of the New Testament. ' In truth,' says the leader of the Oxford modern theological school, ' the wliole course of Christianity, from the first, when we come to examine it, is but one series of troubles and disorders. Every century is like every other, and to thsse who live in it seems worse than all times before it. The Church is ever ailing, and lingers on in weakness, always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in her body.' Religion seems ever expiring, schism domi- nant; the light of truth dim, its adherents scattered. The cause of Christ is ever in its last agony ; as though it were but a question of time, whether it falls finally this day, or another. The saints are ever all but failing from the earth, and Christ all but coming; and thus, the day of judgement is lite- rally ever at hand ; and it is our duty ever to be looking out for it, not disappointed that we have so often said, ' now is the moment ;' and that, at the last, contrary to our expectations, truth has some- what rallied. Such is God's will, gathering in his elect, first one and then another, by little and little, in the intervals of sunshine between storm and storm, or snatching them from the surge of evil, even when the waters rage most furiously. Well may prophets cry out, ' How long will it be, O Lord, to the end of these wonders ? how long will this mystery proceed ? how long will this perishing world be sus- tained by the feeble lights which struggle for existence in its unhealthy atmosphere?' God alone knows the day and the hour when that will at length be, which he is ever threatening ; meanwhile, thus much of comfort do we gain from what has been hitherto ; not to despond, not to be dismayed, not to be anxious cn. III. SIXTUS IV. 93 at the troubles which encompass us. They have ever been, they ever shall be ; they are our portion. ' The floods are risen, the floods have lift up their voice, the floods lift up their waves : the waves of the sea are mighty, and rage horribly, but yet the Lord who dwelleth on high is mightier '.' So much by way of apology for the fact, should we find on inquiry a succession of Apostates rather than of Apostles, in the seats of ecclesiastical privi- lege. The pope under whom Savonarola is now living, is one of the worst that ever bore the sacred character. Sixtus IV. professed in the first instance to follow the policy of Pius II., but soon relapsed into indolence and misgovemment. The archbishop of Pisa being ignominiously executed by the Medici during the disturbances that arose between them and the Pazzi at Florence, and of which anon we shall give a full account ; Sixtus IV. was compelled to place the city under an interdict, excommimicate Lorenzo de Medici, and publish a declaration of war. But his pontifical menaces were treated v.'ith. scorn, even by the ecclesiastics. They continued to cele- brate the divine offices in defiance of the interdict ; they assembled a synod of the bishops of Tuscany, in order to appeal with greater solemnity to a general council, and retorting the blame of the original of- fence upon the pontiff himself, called upon France and Milan to aid them against his oppression. In the midst of the confusion external dangers were for- gotten, and the hosts of Mahomet TI. approached un- heard to the gates of Italy. The city of Otranto was suffered to be stormed by the infidel — and then, but not till then, a peace was patched up between Flo- rence and the pope. Mahomet dying, Sixtus IV. had thenceforth leisure to attend to his personal in- ' Newman's Rumanism aud Popular Protestantism. 94 INNOCENT VIII. B. II. terests, and carried the transgression of nepotism beyond all former example. He married one of his nephews, Leonardo della Rovera, to a natural daugh- ter of Ferdinand of Naples, shamefully, or rather shamelessly, abandoning to that monarch some estates and fiefs which his predecessors had spared no toil acquire and retain. Another, named Julian, the same who was afterwards Julius II., was enriched with several ecclesiastical benefices. For a third, named Girolamo Riario, the principality of Imola was purchased from the resources of the apostolical treasury. But it was on Pietro Riario, the youngest, that the profusion of his fondness was principally lavished. Without talents, without virtues, from a simple Franciscan monk, Pietro was immediately elevated to the dignity of cardinal : he was made titular patriarch of Constantinople ; he was raised to the archiepiscopal see of Florence ; he received be- sides, two other archbishoprics, and a multitude of inferior benefices. In the mean time his splendid prodigality, the pride of his attendants, his equipage, and his sumptuousness, kept pace with the abundance of his resources, and he expended on the pomp of a single ceremony, or the festivities of a single night, sums which exceeded the revenues of kings. For the rest, Sixtus IV. was signally superstitious, and singularly venal, creating new offices for the pur- poses of sale. By one of his acts he ventured on offering the last insult to his court and his Church, having raised to the dignity of cardinal his own valet, a youth, named Jacopo di Parma. What learning and talent he had — (and he was not without either) — only made Sixtus IV. more mischievous and odious. Dying in 1484, he was succeeded by Innocent VIII., who had actually purchased the votes of the conclave, in order to his election, and had no sooner attained ClI. III. SAVONAROLA AT BllIiSCIA. 95 it, than he violated all treaties and oaths made with and sworn to the cardinals — though he had bound himself on pain of anathema, not to exercise his power of self-absolution. Impossible condition ! But though perfidy was common to the popes, none had fixed it at so high a mark before. Clear it was, that the mystery of iniquity was approximating its climax. How was a Savonarola likely to bear these things ? Shall he not preach against them ? Yes, if he can ; and now he can — for he has gained facility by such practice as he could get, and has left untried no mode of self-improvement. He is not one of those flowers that veil their petals under the bud, and let them wither ere they blossom and bring fruit. No ! not fruitless will this rich heart full of love be shut up within itself; he will go forth into the world, though as a lamb among raging wolves. His name shall be added to the list of great men, in whom the unconquerable will has triumphed over physical incapacity. Even his weak frame is to become, under the strong impulse of his fervid soul, an efficient instrument, and the neglected preacher shall ere long rise into an orator, who shall ultimately be followed by applauding thousands, who will own his power not only by the deen silence of admiration, but by the violent struggles of hysterical passion, and the more precious tribute of tears of conviction. It was the year after the death of Sixtus IV., in the first year of the pontificate of the more infamous Innocent VIII., in the year 1485, that Savonarola went to preach in Brescia. H is mind was full of the Scriptures, and that part of them before him which he has undertaken to expound is none other than the mysterious, soul-inspiring, spirit-stirring Apocalypse. How his imagination was fired — how his eloquence was wakened I Words poured from him like water 96 HIS SUCCESSFUL PREACHING. B. II. from the divine fountain of life, and the new light of gospel truth surrounded his brows with a glory like the aureola of saints. He stood before the people as a prophet. Such without his aiuiouncement they believed him to be — for he brought the crimes of the Church to the judgement of the book, and denounced them in the language of God himself. ' From the beginning of the world,' said Savonarola, ' a wonder- ful and inscrutable series of Divine judgements has appeared, wherein have been revealed not only the fearful anger, but the patient loving-kindness of God. Thus the father of the human race, though not left ultimately unpunished, was nevertheless not imme- diately precipitated to Hades. Thus also the univer- sal corruption which had seized the entire human race was not immediately punished, but was per- mitted to continue until the time of the deluge, when it received punishment once for all. In like manner, the obduracy of king Pharaoh led not immediately to his destruction, but was permitted to continue, until finally he was overwhelmed in the waves of the Red Sea. Not otherwise will it be in our corrupt times, from which all the virtues have vanished, and in which all the vices are rampant. Those sunk in sin will be invited to conversion, and mercy will be offered if they turn to virtue, but justice Avill be at length executed on them if they persist and persevere in vice ! The popes have attained through the most shameful simony and subtlety the highest priestly dignities, and even then, when seated in the holy chair, surrender themselves to a shamefully voluptuous .life and an insatiable avarice. The cardinals and bishops follow their example. No discipline, no fear of God is in them. !Many believe in no God. The chastity of the cloister is slain, and they who should serve God with holy zeal have become cold or lukewarm. The princes openly exercise tyranny. Their subjects Cll. III. SUPPOSED TO PUOPIIESY. 97 encourage them in their evil propensitie;.?, their rob- beries, their adulteries, tlieir sacrileges. But, after the corrupted human race has abused for so many centuries the long-sufferiug of God, then at last the justice of God appears, demanding that the rulers of the people, who with base examples corrupt all the rest, should be brought to heavy punishment, and that the people of Asia and Africa, now dwelling in the darkness of ignorance, should be made partakers of the light.' "StJcTT was the subject-matter of a discourse which, suiting the times, awakened the people of the times to a sense of their own and their rulers' iniquities, and an admiration of the preacher's boldness, who dared to utter such dangerous truths of popes, cardi- nals, bishops, and princes, from the very pulpit of the Church itself. None but prophets in the days of old shewed such extreme daring ; — in these days shall the courageous spirit be deemed by impassioned Italians less than prophetic ? This strain of mingled reproach, menace, and foretelling, is it less than in- spired ? ' I never,' remarked Savonarola continually, ' said I was a prophet — yet this I say, that God sent me to pi-ophesy a scourge to Italy, which if I do I lose my body, if I do not I lose my soul.' Incon- sistent this — yet not to be too strictly criticized. Savonarola was conscious he had a mission — it was proved also by the fact of his performing it. God sets every man the task he has to perform on earth, and therefore had set him his. But Savonarola had not boasted of it as a peculiar and special thing; this others had ventured, not he. The one assertion he was warranted in making, on the other he preferred silence. But by whomsoever he was accepted as a prophet, to him he was one, did his office, and delivered his warning, his blessing, or his curse. Nor were the Italian people unprepared for the K 98 SELF-RESPONSIBILITY. B. II. announcement of such truths as Savonarola had to teach. They were not in such ignorance of the con- dition of the papacy, as some of the remoter nations. Savonarola's own mind was satisfied on points, on which at a much later period Luther was in doubt. Distance had lent to the German's view of Rome an enchantment, which to the Italian's closer inspection had no existence. Popular songs in the streets of Rome had satirized openly and boldly the faults at which Luther trembled while he denounced them, and which, not without an ecstacy of wonder, he came to a knowledge of. Not so with Savonarola. He knew intimately what the evil was from the first — yet at first thought it not politic to speak out. That, however, he might have the privilege of always meditating, and sometimes discussing the subject, he sought the protection of the cloister. Invested with its privileges, pious men of every age had dared to expose the impostures and innovations of the Roman see, which had been in a state of uncertainty, perhaps of permission or even of custom, but had not yet been decreed into unalterable laws and constitutions of the Church. It was reserved for a future period, and for the Council of Trent, to ossify the tumours and excrescences which had deformed the Church, and stamp the much doubted and controverted preroga- tive of the pope with the highest authority recognised in the Church. Then it was, that the Church of Rome surrendered her Catholicity for the sake of establishing herself as a Protesting Institution against the Church of the Reformation. Yet however free was any man to testify against ecclesiastical corruption and abuse, he must neverthe- less do it on his own responsibility, and liable to those revenges which power so well knows how to take. He might by his honesty put to peril n{)t only his liberty but his life. This was known by Savonarola, CH. III. PROPHETIC IKSPIRATIOX. 99 by his friends, and by the people, who accordingly were prepared to sympathize with, and to admire his personal courage and daring earnestness. The Italian biographers of Savonarola, and their German compilers, have thought this a fitting place to discuss the question of his prophetic inspiration. His friend Giovanfranscesco Pico tells us that ' the judge- ments then pronounced by Savonarola, were not so indubitably manifest to him at that time as to leave no room for ambiguity, which woyld have been the case had the light of prophecy shone out beyond the veil of human reason. Savonarola was still only partially enlightened by the Divine light, and partially darkened by his own human intellect, yet under the guidance of reason he inclined towards the direction whither the Divine visions he had seen conducted him.' From this we may learn, that the truths on which Savonarola had long brooded, now began to take with him the shape of intuitions, and conscien- tious feeling to transcend, and sometimes supersede the exercise of reason. Difficult, however, for such a mind to explain its state to another — if not super- stitiously experienced, it vd\l be superstitiously re- ceived. Pico interprets it as well as he may ; adding, that Savonarola ' on account of the prophetic spirit with which he was inspired, began to enunciate some mysteries about an impending destruction, although he concealed them under the cover of sacred Scripture, that impure men might be prevented from perceiving them, fearing lest the holy thing should be given to the dogs, and meantime be rendered absurd by visions that were still doubtful.' This Savonarola told to me in private ; but in public he very frequently said that all he had preached con- cerning futurity, he apprehended by a positive infu- sion of Divine light to be true, just in the same way as any person of sound mind knew that every part 100 DEGREES OF ILLUMINATION. B. 11. is less than the whole. ' There must be,' he would say, ' either a true affirmation or a true negation in every thing, and consequently he proceeded to preach the impending destruction with greater confidence, alleg- ing that by means of his so preaching, the Christian world, then falling into ruin, and as it were by its abominable morals at the point of death, would be re- established.' Strong terms these to express a moral conviction that unless the Church repented she must perish, misinterpreted to mean, that he foresaw her fall and the time of its occurrence. The German commentators agree, that in thus drawing his first prophetic conclusion from the Scrip- tures at Brescia, Savonarola stood on safe ground, in affirming as his fundamental principle, that God would deal with his Church at all times as he had dealt with her in the first ages. If, however, Savonarola, or his biographers, mean (says one ') ' to rest his prophetic claims at this time on an entirely subordinate degree of inspiration, in which much of mere human reason might mingle, and if Savonarola thought that pro- phetic illumination must be concealed under the cover of Scripture and certain symbols, to the end that the holy thing may not be thrown to dogs, one can so far in such a case approve his caution, inasmuch as it served at the same time to prevent his being deluded by doubtful visions : — but this opinion must be rejected, because the prophetic in the New Tes- tament meaning, rests at last on such principles as have their proof in the elder Scriptures and the Divine economy themselves ; yet this in no way excludes the higher illumination.' The writer however consoles himself, that subsequently Savonarola bore practical evidence to the superior light and wisdom by which God's missionaries are at all times distinguished. But the day of small things is not to be despised, "AG. Rudelbach. CII. III. NIGHT OF THE CHURCH. 101 Nor is any man what he is other than by the grace of God, which to every individual is a special inspi- ration, and in seasons of obscurity is granted for a special purpose. For truth stands fast, the centre of a system ; entire humanity revolves round it as the earth about the sun. Christ reveals himself as the morninsc, awakening the ever vernal life in the human heart. Never will he set : whether it be high mid- day or deep midnight, he continues to shine like the summer sun in the remotest North. But where the heart is cold, the warm influences even of a hea- venly love expire ; night and winter supervene. Dark stand the walls of the Divine city, of the Church of Christ. Meanwhile, the interior is artifi- cially illuminated, the obscure halls are so lit with tapers, that men forget it is night ; and the cloud of frankincense is so frequently exalted, and in its vapours they are so constantly refreshed, that they are never allowed to think in the wintry desolation on their withered hearts. In the adorned house of night they murmur their prayers and listen to the voice of the preacher, but the stream of life flows not from it, it is stiffened to ice in the w-inter's cold. At length, from out the cloud of frankincense one steps forth and speaks — ' I am God's vicar on earth,' and the people pray to him ; neither can he err though he lieth — he is the only one who may promise bless- ing, even though he make men most miserable. But the people who sit in the darkness and shadow of death, shall yet again see the great light which lighteth the day ; and the true watchmen on the walls shall call — ' The night is far spent — and the morning cometh ; let us put off" the works of darkness, and put on the armour of light ! ' One of these watch- men was Savonarola — one of those whom the agent of the darkness, who had named himself the vicar of the Almightv, shall cause to be conveyed from K 3 102 SAVONAROLA PREPARES HIMSELF B. II, their station to the stake, the flaming pile which apos- tate power has continually reared against the twilight of morning, that the prophets who threatened it with destruction might perish therein. But ere long the time shall be fulfilled — the flames of the pile shall soar up into the holy presence of the Righteous One, and kindle there a fire which the unrighteous cannot quench. If the self-seeking human strength can only destroy ; the Divine strength of love can alone create. The Reformation of the Church, which shall then commence, shall go forth conquering and to conquer ; but the last victory the Lord has reserved for himself — in his great day. By the success of his preaching at Brescia, Savona- rola was encouraged, and he is reported to have applied himself with still greater assiduity to the practice of elocution ; and by frequent preaching and more sedulous study of the Scriptures, to have culti- vated that unction of speech, without which the preacher is but a babbler, however fluent. He continued loud in his lamentations and denunciations against the corruptions of the Church, speaking with the voice of inspiration, and not by the authority of man. He regarded not the interests of nominal apostles, who had become indisputable apostates — he knew that succession was the worst of pleas for a Church unsouled and reduced to a dead carcase, and that piety was the best credential a priest could show, even though ordained by Peter himself. But the dawn is not noon day, and Savonarola has yet a season of preparation to go through before the purpose of his life shall be accomplished. This period he employed in writing a sketch of logic, physic and ethic, and a synopsis of the Aristotelian philosophy. His mode of composition required improvement, and by such exercises received it. After briefly announcing principles, he proceeded in CH. III. FOR HIGHER EFlOItTS. 103 these essays to an elaboration of the instances to which they applied, or by which they were illustrated. Aristotle formed naturally their ground-work, and the references to Thomas Aquinas are numerous. The style is light and familiar, but the clearness and decision of the statements bespeak the mind of a master — a mind that had now attained the full matu- rity of its powers, severely disciplined and diligently cultivated. GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA. BOOK THE THIRD. ^ r a c t u e» ItpovaaXriii, 'ItpovaaXr]^, /; aTroKrtivovaa tovq irpo^tiTag, Kai XidojioXovaa rovg dirfaTaXfiivovs Trpog avTrjv, irocraKts 7iOtXri