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DIVINITY SCHOOL
TROWBRIDGE LIBRARY

Sauonarola.

BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

THE
STORY OF MARTIN LUTHER.
Edited by Miss WHATELY.
Eighth Edition. Cloth, gilt, Five Shillings.
" Our desire is to excite some sense of the importance of making the sub
ject of the Reformation of the 16th century, a matter of historical education.
Our notice of the well-performed task of the author will best effect what we
desire by giving one or two specimens, by way of stimulating a wish to
peruse the work.'' Christian Observer.
" It is the very thing needed for families, and schools and parishes, and
we doubt not it will have a large circulation." — Evangelical Christendom.
"This brief, simple, and consecutive history of the fears and hopes, the
fightings and triumphs of the great German Reformer, supplies a want in
the literature of the present day." Christian Examiner.
"We know of no similar work, and we heartily join with Miss Whately
in believing that ' it is a time when the young and old need to be stirred up
to a lively sense of the nature of Gospel teaching and an open Bible.' "
Sunday School Teachers' Treasury.
"With cordial thankfulness we hail this volume." British Mothers* Magazine.
*' * The Story of Martin Luther ' should be read by all our young people."
United Methodist Church Magazine.

JOHN F. SHAW & CO., PATERNOSTER ROW.

FRATE HIERONYMO SAVONAROLA.
(From a Painting by Fra Bartolommeo.}

4va_- h°[V

Savonarola, The tflarsatin* M&vtyt.
A REFORMER BEFORE THE REFORMATION.

BY

ELIZABETH WARREN,
Author of "The Story of Martin Luther" etc.

SECOND EDITION.

SAN MARCO, FLORENCE.

LONDON: S. W. PARTRIDGE ~ ,,.,.,.
9, PATERNOSTER EOW^V *'

ffltm's a tijltt alont to Jbrtsrk,
that's a sag aiont to oaton :
Jitm ot thought, mti> mm ot attott,
ffltav the teas.

TO

MY EARLY AND VALUED FRIEND,

MISS DOUGLAS,

I gUiicate this §ook,

IN REMEMBRANCE THAT TO HER I OWE THE

SUGGESTION WHICH LED TO ITS

BEING WRITTEN.

ELIZABETH WARREN.

October, 1880.

AUTHORITIES CONSULTED.

In compliance with the suggestion of a friend, I give —
in this Second Edition of my life of Savonarola — a list
of Authorities for the facts stated therein, and hope it
may be considered satisfactory, and add to the interest
of my book. ELIZABETH WARREN.
February, 1881.

M'Crje's Reformation in Italy.
Villari's History of Giralamo Savonarola, and of his Times.
Madden's Life and Martyrdom of Savonarola.
An Article on Savonarola in the Quarterly xcix., ascribed
to Dean Milman.
A copy of Sir Thomas Moore's translation of Pico's Works
— now in the British Museum.
Seedhom's Oxford Reformers of 1498.
Dean Milman's Latin Christianity.
Brent's translation of Paul Sarpi's History of the Council
of Trent.
Mrs. Jameson's Memoirs of the Early Italian Painters.

CoKteKt$.

CHAP. E
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER ... 9
I. CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH . . -19
II. DISAPPOINTED HOPES. ... 28
III. CONVENT OF SAN MARCO . . -34
IV. UNEXPECTED POPULARITY ... 46
V. THE MAGNIFICENT AND THE PRIOR . . 50
VI. EXTRACTS FROM SERMONS ... 59
VII. THE BIBLE STUDENT . . . .66
VIII. REFORMATION IN LITERATURE AND ART . 73
IX. CHARLES VIII. INVADES ITALY . . -79
X. AN UNWELCOME GUEST ... 87
XI. THE POPULAR PREACHER AND POLITICAL ADVISER . 93
XII. PREACHING, PRAYING, AND WORKING . . IOO
XIII. PAPAL HOSTILITY— CARNIVAL OF 1496 . . 105
XIV. PRINCE PICO DELLA MIRANDOLA . . 1 14

viii Contents.
CHAP. PAGE
XV. SERMONS ON AMOS AND ZECHARIAH , . 120
XVI. SINCERITY OF PURPOSE ; WEAKNESS OF JUDGMENT 1 28
XVII. POPULARITY INCREASES, AND TROUBLE LIKEWISE . 1 33
XVIII. HUMILIATING DISCLOSURES— CARNIVAL OF 1497 1 44
XIX. TUMULT ON ASCENSION DAY — WRATH OF THE POPE . 1 5 1
XX. TRIAL OF BERNARDO DEL NERO . . 160
XXI. THE TRIUMPH OF THE CROSS . . . 166
XXII. TROUBLE UPON TROUBLE — CARNIVAL OF 1498 . 173
XXIII. THE ORDEAL BY FIRE. . . 183
XXIV. CONVENT OF SAN MARCO ATTACKED . 199
XXV. IMPRISONMENT AND TRIAL OF SAVONAROLA . 207
XXVI. FRA DOMENICO — PATIENT IN TRIBULATION . 2l8

XXVII. THE END

223

Savonarola,

Introductory Chapter,

"Wondrous, unparalleled, nay Divine, is it, that the Church, which is
ever being attacked, has ever endured." — Pascal.
"The gates of hell shall not prevail against it."— St. Matt. xvi. 18.
nnHE Reformation of the sixteenth century was not so much
J- a re-formation of the Church as her restoration to the old
faith of the Primitive Church. " The Protestant Reformers did
not call on the Church to receive any new dogmas ; they simply
desired a return to the faith of that best and purest age which
followed immediately upon the life and death of our Lord and
the teaching of His disciples." "The great plea of" (Pro
testant) " England," observes Dr. Newman, in his " Apology,"
"is antiquity; of Rome, Catholicity.''
Very early in her history error crept into the Church.
Gradually, but surely, the enemy sowed tares among the wheat,
until doctrines and observances, not recognized by the Primi
tive Church, and therefore not in the only true sense Catholic,
were taught as part of the faith of Christ. Such were the
invocation of saints and angels; the worship of the Virgin
Mary ; the adoration paid to the elements in the celebration

10 Savonarola.
of the Lord's Supper ; the celibacy of the clergy, and the seven
sacraments. The removal of the seat of Empire from Rome to Constan
tinople, early in the fourth century, materially advanced the
supremacy of the See of Rome. It might seem, indeed, as if
Constantine designed that act for the express purpose of allow
ing Latin Christianity to grow to its full height, without danger
of coming into collision with the civil government, " To give,"
as Dante expresses it, "the Shepherd room." "Latin Chris
tianity," says Dean Milman, " was, in fact, the Roman Empire
again extended over Europe by a universal code and a pro
vincial government, by a hierarchy of religious praetors and a
host of inferior officers, each in strict subordination to those
immediately above them, and gradually descending to the very
lowest ranks of society ; the whole with a certain freedom of
action, but a constrained and limited freedom, and with an
appeal to the spiritual Csssar as the last resort."
Step by step the Papal power made progress. Early in the
fifth century, the lineal descent of the Pope from St. Peter
was pronounced a tenet of Christianity. But it was not until
after the siege and capture of Rome by Alaric — the most fatal
blow, as it might have seemed, to Roman greatness, but in
reality that which tended directly to the spiritual supremacy of
Rome — that her bishop was acknowledged "the one visible
head, needed for one visible body."
About the middle of the ninth century, the famous Isi-
dorian Decretals came to light, which gradually but surely
changed the whole constitution and government of the Church.
These Decretals consisted of about one hundred letters, pro
fessedly of the early Popes, decrees of councils, and a mul
titude of other documents ; but they were all forgeries ! Had
they been genuine they would have sanctioned any assumption
of authority put forth by the Pope ; and the reigning pontiff,
Nicholas i., welcomed them as a mighty help in support of
his claims, which, for largeness of pretension, exceeded all that

Introductory Chapter. n
had been urged by his predecessors. Rome had no part in
this gigantic fraud, but she scrupled not to use the means thus
placed within her reach, to further her own aggrandisement.
It is generally conceded that the Papacy reached its
highest pitch of splendour under Innocent m. Henceforth
the Bishops of Rome reigned supreme over the laity as well
as the clergy of the Latin Church. And what followed?
A rapid decay of learning — the little that remained was pos
sessed by the clergy, and it was but little. Real learning
gave place to superstition. The Bible unread, left the minds
of men ready to fall in with every folly and false doctrine.
But "knowledge is power." They who can read and write
must rule over those who can do neither; and so the su
premacy of the clergy was but the natural result of the
ignorance of the laity. Corruption, both of morals and
doctrine, quickly followed. The enormous wealth and power
of the clergy led to pride and arrogancy; while their lazy,
luxurious lives left them a ready prey to every corrupt lust.
Even in those dark days, men, here and there, were to be
found, who, from the narrow windows of their cells, watched
for the dawn of a new day. Such were Paulinus, of Aquileia,
in the days of Charlemagne; Wycliffe, in England; Huss
and Jerome, who perished in the flames at Constance; and
Savonarola — whose story we are about to write — who met the
same fate at Florence. These, and many others, groping their
way out of darkness, sought to free themselves from the yoke
of priestly bondage, determined to own no authority in matters
of conscience but the written Word of God.
Italy produced many such witnesses. It is a remarkable
fact in her history, that she resisted the supremacy of the
Church of Rome after the most remote churches of the West
had submitted to it. And cannot this be accounted for?
The Pope, as seen from a distance, might seem to bear the
stamp of Christ's Vicegerent ; but in Italy he was too well
known. A closer view dispelled the illusion. Not until the

12 Savonarola.
eleventh century was Papal ascendency established at Milan,
the capital of the diocese, and the consent of the clergy given
to receive their orders from Rome, and this not without a
struggle on the part of both clergy and laity.
One of the brightest lights in the Middle Ages was Claude,
Bishop of Turin. By birth a Spaniard, he was ordained to
that See in 823. The contest about image-worship then raged
fiercely, and Claude, outstripping the French divines and the
Iconoclast Emperors of Constantinople, removed from his
diocese, not only all images and crucifixes, but whatever else
seemed, to his enlightened mind, to savour of superstition.
Claude had learned to call things by their right names, and
openly designated image-worship, idolatry. " My adversaries,"
he said, " have not abandoned idols, but have only changed
their names." Relics and pilgrimages, he called "foolish
vanities;" the doctrine of the merits of saints and their power
to intercede, "useless fables." Pressing on to the Papal chair
itself, he declared, " he is not to be called Apostolic who
merely occupies the Apostle's seat, but he who fulfils the func
tions of the Apostle." Claude wrote commentaries upon va
rious parts of Scripture. His teaching, drawn from that pure
fountain of truth, was eminently practical. " If," he used to
say, " a man does not himself persevere in the faith, the righte
ousness, and the truth in which the Apostles persevered, he
cannot be saved." And by universal testimony, he is said to
have practised what he preached, " taking heed unto himself"
first, and then "to all the flock over the which the Holy
Ghost had made him overseer, to feed the Church of God
which He hath purchased with His own blood."
Papal aggression steadily gained ground in Italy, and with
it sloth and immorality among the clergy, and especially at the
court of Rome. Very early in the twelfth century, this state
of things proclaimed the necessity for reform in the Church,
no matter how hazardous might be the attempt.
It was then that Arnold of Brescia, a man of deep learning,

Introductory Chapter. 13
arose to demand a thorough ecclesiastical reform — that
" nothing should be left to the ministers of religion, Pope or
Bishop, but spiritual authority and a subsistence derived from
the tithes and voluntary contributions of the people." This
would have been a return to the ancient constitution of the
Church, under which the bishops did not possess either legis
lative, administrative, or judicial power — all three essential
attributes of sovereignty ; and when the clergy were " ensamples
to the flock," instead of aiming to be " lords over God's heri
tage." Reformation, less than this, would not have satisfied the
monk of Brescia. For this he toiled and prayed, and died in
the struggle. In 1139, being condemned by the Second (Ecu
menical Synod, assembled at Rome under Innocent n., he fled
to Zurich, and there preached. Thus he broke up the ground
for the seed of the Gospel to be sown, four centuries later, by
Ulrich Zuingle. Upon the death of Innocent, Arnold returned
to Rome. That city was then rocked to and fro, by the dis
putes between the new Pope and the Emperor. The reformer
deemed this a fit moment to strike a blow for civil and religious
liberty, and earnestly implored the people not to let it slip, but
at once, and for ever, throw off the yoke of priestly tyranny,
and revive the ancient authority of the Senate. But the times
were not ripe for so bold a step, and he who had called for it
had to fly for his life. He was caught and crucified, after
which his body was burned at the gate of St. Angelo. Many
lived to teach his doctrines, and, before fifty years had passed,
the cry for reform was more vehement than ever.
About this time — the close of the twelfth century — com
panies of Waldenses, driven from their homes in Languedoc
and Provence, crossed the Alps and settled in Lombardy. A
few years later some had even reached Rome, where a furious
persecution, under the joint authority of Pope Gregory ix.
and the Emperor Frederick 11., broke out against them. As
"heretics" no mercy was shown them; wherever they were
found utter destruction was the portion meted out to them.

14 Savonarola.
But, like Israel of old, these persecuted ones grew and multi
plied ; the place soon becoming too strait for them, they asked
for and obtained a poor, thinly-inhabited district in Calabria.
Soon a flourishing colony arose, valleys " smiled with wavy
corn," vines clothed the hills, flocks and herds fed in rich
pastures. Such unwonted prosperity excited the envy of their
neighbours ; and the priests, seeing that the new settlers prac
tised no Romish ceremonies when burying their dead, that no
images decorated their churches, no holy places invited the
faithful to go on pilgrimage, raised the cry of heresy against
them, and demanded their extermination. But their landlords
were by no means anxious to expel them, seeing that they paid
their rents regularly, and had, moreover, by patient industry,
greatly improved the land ; so for the present the priests were
foiled in their purpose. The Waldenses were left in peace, and
not seldom did they afford shelter to their persecuted brethren
in Piedmont and France, until they themselves were sent forth
homeless by the iron hand of Rome, which came to pass in the
sixteenth century.
It is an interesting fact connected with the Vaudois valleys
that, when literature revived in Italy in the early part of the
fourteenth century, it was there the first gleam of light appeared.
Barlaam, a monk of Calabria, was the first to revive, beyond
the Alps, the memory, or at least the writings, of Homer. He
it was, too, who taught Petrarch Greek ; while Boccaccio owed
his knowledge of that language to a pupil of Barlaam.
This revival of letters received a powerful stimulus by the
importation of Greek manuscripts into Italy, after the fall
of Constantinople, 1453. The Greek Church had never sunk
so low in ignorance as the Latin ; and when learned Greeks
arrived in Italy with those precious treasures saved from the
ruins of their country, they rekindled the flame lighted by
Petrarch and Boccaccio, above a hundred years before, but
which in the succeeding age had been let to die out, or
nearly so.

Introductory Chapter. IS
But the " New Learning," as it was called, would have been
powerless to awaken Europe had it not been that, simul
taneously with it, there arose those two great reformers, the
invention of printing — about 1440 — and the manufacture of
paper. Early in the fifteenth century, a coarse paper, made of
linen rags, was in use in Oxford ; and when it became suffi
ciently cheap to serve literary purposes, immediately there fol
lowed, as a matter of course, the printing press. Then book
followed book in rapid succession, as the desire for knowledge
increased with the facility for acquiring it.
With many, indeed, of these " Humanists," as these enthu
siastic students of classical literature were called, this desire did
not extend beyond the deciphering of an old manuscript — a
commentary upon some classical author, some masterpiece of
heathen genius — and, for the most part, the revival of literature
in the fifteenth century was as heathenish as can well be
imagined, especially in Italy. Nevertheless, the New Testa
ment in the original tongue, being brought into Italy along
with the Classics — not Only in separate manuscripts, but in
palimpsestes — let in a flood of light which made darkness
visible. Thus it was that, with the revival of literature, came
the call within the Church for reformation, as the conviction
that the Latin Church had grievously declined from the
standard of truth and purity upheld in Scripture deepened in
the minds of many, whether among the laity, monks, or secular
clergy. Often before, as we have seen, had that call been heard ;
diverse were the voices, varied the characters, of the callers.
The troubadours of the Middle Ages had borne their part;
Dante, the weary exile from Florence, had learned to question
the infallibility of Popes and General Councils. Over and
over again he maintains the Divine authority of Scripture : —
" The works," he says, " that followed evidence their truth."
And again : " That all the world should have been turned to
Christian, and no miracle been wrought, would, in itself,

1 6 Savonarola.
be such a miracle, the rest were not an hundredth part so
great." Fired with indignation against Romish fables and supersti
tions, he exclaims : " E'en they whose office is
To preach the gospel, let the gospel sleep,
And pass their own inventions off instead."
Petrarch and Boccaccio are even more severe, but we need
not quote them.
" Nothing, however, sung or told in satire, verse, or prose,
against the court of Rome," remarks Dean Milman, "can
equal the exquisite malice of the story of the Jew converted to
Christianity by a visit to Rome, because no religion less than
Divine could have triumphed over the enormous wickedness
of its chief teachers — the cardinals and the Pope."
These satires against the clergy, especially the monks and
friars, were translated into various languages, and freely circu
lated throughout Europe, down to the dawn of the Refor
mation. And when that day arrived, and no poet who desired
popularity could venture on such a theme, it was taken up by
anonymous writers, who often inserted passages from Dante',
Petrarch, and Boccaccio into their pieces. Other writers there
were who exposed these evils in a graver style, more suited
to their subject, and, strange to say, not one voice was raised
to defend the Popes and their government of the Church.
Three General Councils, of Pisa, Constance, and Basle,
assembled to deliberate upon this weighty subject of Church
reform ; but they effected nothing, save to prepare the Church
for that mighty deliverance yet to come. " One and all, their
object was to choose the right man to fill the Papal chair, and,
having chosen him, to frame laws by which he might be kept
from going wrong. They did not see that the root of evil was
having a Pope at all, acknowledging a man as the supreme
head of the Church, instead of Christ the Lord, and Him

Introductory Chapter. iy
alone." In truth, there was no real Reformation until that
wrought out by Luther, which was not merely a protest against
evil, but the restoration of the pure faith of the Gospel— the
open acknowledgment that Christ is all things to His Church
— God over all — blessed for ever.
These witnesses for truth against error, these upholders of
Scriptural doctrine against superstition and cunningly-devised
fables, had no thought of separating themselves from the
Church, against whom they so fearlessly testified. To their
apprehension the Pope was, as it were, two distinct personages
— one spiritual, the other temporal ; and while they hesitated
not to condemn, with unmeasured reprobation, the latter, they
regarded the former with deepest awe and reverence as the
representative of God upon earth. " To such minds the idea
of schism was abhorrent ; they did not see the incongruity of
two personages — the one so corrupt, the other so holy — meet
ing in one ; nor were they clear-sighted enough to perceive that
the majority might really be those in schism, if the few were
those holding the truth ; not unnaturally, therefore, they dreaded
to think that by over-zeal, even in the cause of truth, they might
sever themselves from the body of Christ."
Savonarola, the Florentine martyr, largely shared this fear.
In studying his character, it ought to be borne in mind that
the doctrines against which he, and Huss, and Jerome of
Prague, and many others, whose names are in the Book of
Life, protested, as contrary to Apostolic teaching, had not, as
yet, been pronounced dogmas of Christian faith ; and, therefore,
these reformers all in good faith affirmed their orthodoxy,
while yet holding and preaching doctrines utterly opposed to
the Church of Rome's teaching and manner of living.
This state of things originated the famous Council of Trent,
1545. It was assembled for the special purpose of drawing up
a Confession of Faith, which should contain all the Articles
which the Church required her members to believe. Amongst
these were many doctrines contrary to Scripture, and unknown

1 8 Savonarola.
to the Primitive Church. Rites and ceremonies, also, which
had been previously observed as matters of custom, were
then formally established, and pronounced an essential part of
Christian worship. Henceforth, the non-observance of any of
these Articles should — the Council decreed — be followed by
excommunication. It was then that " novelties " were endorsed as the Faith of
the Church. No doubt there had been a gradual preparation
for this formal departure from the faith of Apostolic days and
those which immediately followed. Little by little, truth had
become overlaid with error, until doctrines, which had never
been heard of previous to the ninth or tenth century, were set
forth as part of the true faith of Christ.
The Council of Trent stereotyped these novelties. On
January ist, 1547, it passed a decree defining, for the first time,
the Articles to be henceforth binding upon the entire Church.
From that date no one holding doctrines at variance with those
Articles could, consistently, remain a member of the Church of
Rome, or maintain his orthodoxy while holding those doctrines ;
but, as we have said, previous to the Council, there was no
inconsistency involved in such a course of action.
Thus we can understand how it was that reformers before
the Reformation could, while openly avowing anti-Romish
doctrines, yet remain within that Church, and style themselves
her faithful children. Savonarola was one of these, otherwise
inexplicable, characters.

CHAPTER I.
Childhood and fxmtft.

Without love and without God, the way is terrible;
The wind moans in the street — ¦
The whole world is desperately sad.
Lenau (translated from the German).

When Martin Luther was passing through Naumburg to
attend the Diet at Worms, a priest, forcing his way
through the crowd, presented to him a portrait of the Italian
martyr, Savonarola, accompanied by a letter exhorting the Ger
man Reformer to fight manfully for the truth, to stand on the
Lord's side, in the full assurance that strength would be given
him by God. Luther, taking the portrait in his hand, gazed
long and steadily at it, then he kissed it, and turning to those
around him, said, " That man was, indeed, a faithful servant of
Jesus Christ." Luther never failed to pay this testimony to
Savonarola whenever his name was mentioned in his presence.
It is the story of this Reformer before the Reformation, con
cerning whom there has been more vehement controversy than
has fallen to the lot of most of the great men of history, we are
about to write. While some have styled him the " Luther of
Italy," not a few represent him as a wild and dangerous fanatic,
who used the gifts to which he laid claim — those of prophecy
and the privilege of holding immediate intercourse with heaven
— not for holy purposes, but to gratify personal ambition, and
excite the Florentines to revolt against their rulers, civil and
ecclesiastical.

20 Savonarola.
The character of Savonarola is indeed very difficult to com
prehend ; but the purity of his life has never been denied, even
by his bitterest enemies ; while his contemporaries acknowledge
him to have been a man of rare intellectual power, and one of
the best theologians of his day, as well as a firm defender of
civil and religious liberty.
In the eighteenth century, even the name of this remarkable
man had become almost forgotten. But in 1835, Rudelbach,
a German writer, rescued it from oblivion. He published
Savonarola's life for the special purpose of giving a detailed
statement of his doctrinal views, accompanied by a list of his
works, the study of which would, he promised, repay any
amount of labour thus spent. Rudelbach's work was wel
comed as affording abundant testimony that Luther was right
in regarding Savonarola as a reformer before the Reformation ;
and the interest thus excited strengthened, as, one after another,
the books to which he called attention were studied by men
capable of appreciating them. These writings have thrown a
marvellous light upon the character and inner life of their
author, the prior of San Marco. They have made it clear to
every unprejudiced mind that, though his persuasion that he
was endowed with supernatural gifts often led him into extra
vagance, no selfish consideration stained the purity of his
motives. The one object of his life was to bring about the
reformation and freedom from political tyranny of the Church,
which he loved even in her degraded state. Though for a
time the favourite of Lorenzo the Magnificent, Savonarola
never asked a favour at his hands ; rather was it declined when
offered. It was this singleness of purpose, pursued steadily to
the last, that imparted dignity to his entire life, and gave him
an influence so marvellous over his fellow-men.

Girolamo Savonarola was born at Ferrara, on the 21st of
September, 1452, just thirty years before the birth of Luther.

Childhood and Youth. 21
His family originally came from Padua ; but about the year
1440, Girolamo's grandfather, Michele, removed to Ferrara at
the express invitation of Nicholas, third Prince of Este, the
renowned patron of literature and the arts.
Girolamo was the third of seven children. His father's name
was Nicholas. His mother — Helena Anna — was descended
from the ancient family of Buonacorsi, of Padua. She was a
woman of great strength of character, and deep and tender
sympathy. Fervently devoted to her son, he ever looked to
her for comfort in dark and troublous days. This loving inter
course between mother and son is evidenced by many letters
which remain.
Marvellous stories, upon which, however, little reliance can
be placed, are related of the boy's life at home, while authentic
details of those days are few and without much to interest.
He does not seem to have been an attractive child. Reserved,
serious, a lover of solitude ; amusements, suited to his age, had
no charm for him. His biographer, Burlamacchi, says, " His
delight was to be alone, employing himself making little altars
and performing acts of devotion." And yet, his disposition
was calculated to make friends and keep them too; and he
himself tells us that, while yet a boy, he made up his mind not
to enter a monastery — a decision, however, which looks as if,
even then, the matter had been pondered over in the depths of
his heart.
The highest hope of Nicholas and Helena for their son was
to see him following the profession of his grandfather, who,
both at Padua and Ferrara, held a high reputation as a physi
cian, and as professor of the physical sciences. Michele him
self, with whom the boy was a great favourite, warmly entered
into their views, and undertook to educate him for the medical
profession. But the old man died at the age of seventy-nine,
leaving his grandson to be educated by his father, who was by
no means equal to the task. He was now ten years of age,
and attended the public schools in Ferrara, in which city the

22 Savonarola.
study of philosophy, which had lately begun to revive in
Europe, held a prominent place. Young as he was, he was
soon absorbed in the works of St. Thomas Aquinas and
Aristotle, which were considered in those days essential to the
right preparation for any profession. Deep as these were,
Girolamo soon mastered them. St. Thomas was his especial
favourite. Day after day found him meditating over his works,
until his mind became so excited that he could with difficulty
turn to other and equally important studies.
But even in those early days truth, in its purity and for its
own sake, was the object of his search, while he turned with
disgust from writers who, under the name of truth, " set forth
their own notions and conceits." "They do not please me,"
he would say, as he closed the book. This close and ardent
application to study bore fruit in later days. The habit he
then acquired of reasoning out his subject until it became, as
it were, a part of himself, was of immense value to him when
called upon to discuss controversial and knotty points with
learned and subtle disputants. Nevertheless, the time came
when Savonarola looked back upon the days and hours he had
devoted to those studies as time lost. Recurring to them, he
was often heard to say, "I was then in the error of the schools,
and studied with great assiduity the dialogues of Plato; but
when God brought me to see the true light, I cast them away."
In those dark days Plato was almost worshipped, because those
who professed to teach Christ lived in forgetfulness of Him.
But, " Of what avail is Plato," Savonarola asks, " if a poor
woman, established in the faith of Christ, knows more of the
true wisdom than Plato ? " words which recall to mind these of
our own poet —
"She knows, and knows no more, her Bible true,
A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew."
It was not likely that the laborious life of a physician could
be an attractive prospect to Savonarola, whose mind, restless

Childhood and Yottth. 23
and speculative, was ever starting aside from the path of study
more especially needful for a medical student ; and soon arose
within him a conflict between his own wishes and those of his
parents. Painful to his loving nature was this clashing of
desires, but he could not silence it. As time rolled on, his in
creasing dislike to medical study made him resolve to abandon
all idea of following his grandfather's profession ; while the
thought of devoting himself to a religious life, which seems to
have at that time occupied his mind, suggested to him a refuge
from the world, which he hated for its exceeding wickedness.
He must in very deed have lived a solitary life in gay Ferrara
— the magnificent capital of the Este — with its one hundred
thousand inhabitants. Not that Savonarola was by nature an
ascetic : far otherwise. His heart ever beat in sympathy for
those around him ; but a mind, so sensitive as his, so keenly
alive to the corruption of the age, could be understood by few —
appreciated by fewer still — in those days when vice and luxury
reigned supreme.
Along with his beloved Aquinas he now read his Bible ; and
for recreation, if such it can be called, played mournful airs
upon the lute, and wrote verses, in which he poured forth the
sorrows of his heart. In his poem, " De Ruina Mundi,"
written in 1472, he complains, "The whole world is in con
fusion, every virtue has disappeared — no shining light appears,
none are ashamed of their sins." If it were not for his con
fidence in the overruling Providence of God, the aspect of the
world would, he says, have "driven him to despair :" the sight
of " sceptres passing into the hands of pirates, religion turning
her face earthwards, crawling in the midst of worldly loves and
grovelling cares," was more than he could bear.
For such an one the charms of the Ducal Palace, the resort
of the light-hearted citizens of Ferrara, had no attraction ; nor
could his parents induce him to pay its brilliant halls a second
visit. For he had been once there, had walked through those
gorgeous saloons, beneath which hundreds lingered out a living

24 Savonarola.
death in noisome dungeons, into which no ray of Heaven's
light could penetrate. The clanking of chains, the groans of
the tortured below, the voice of music and of laughter above-
to him the contrast was too terrible. Sad and weary he left
those halls, to weep alone over misery he could not alleviate.
One ray of hope, which might have brightened into happiness,
now flitted across his path. It was but for a moment, and,
vanishing, left him more desolate than before. Adjoining his
father's house there lived a Florentine exile — Strozzi — with
whom Savonarola became united in the closest bonds of sym
pathy and friendship. Strozzi had a daughter, and thereby
hangs a tale. Savonarola loved her with all the ardour of his
nature, and, doubting nothing, told his love. With scorn it
was rejected. A Strozzi could not ally herself with a Savona
rola ! He had believed her true, and, disappointed, felt him
self deceived, and bitterly resented the affront. But this
brought no healing to the wound, and now, feeling more than
ever as one alone in the world, he bathed afresh the altar steps
with tears, crying — " O Lord, make known to me the way in
which I am to guide my soul." Did the thought, already
pondered over, of entering a convent suggest this prayer for
guidance? And is it to this possibility he alludes, when,
shortly after, he says, " There is still a hope which does not
entirely abandon me. Thus it is that in the other life it will
be clearly seen whose soul was gentle and kind, and who
elevated his wings to a higher style." Was that " higher style "
religious life within a convent, which seemed to the fervent
Florentine, as it did some years later to Luther, to be the very
gate of heaven ? Day by day this yearning after monastic life
gained strength. He mentioned it to no one lest it should be
frustrated, for well he knew that his parents would oppose it.
It was, however, Savonarola himself tells us — " A single word,"
in a sermon preached in Florence by an Augustine monk, in
1474, which irrevocably fixed his choice. What that " single
word " was he never divulged to mortal man.

Childhood and Youth. 25
Relieved from harrowing suspense as to his future life,
Savonarola, shortly after that memorable sermon, returned to
Ferrara. But as he drew towards home, the prospect of soon
leaving it, and for ever, sorely troubled him. Thoughts of
father, mother, friends, all that had made life dear to him,
crowded in upon his soul. Then began the struggle between
the flesh and the spirit, which in vain he tried to hide. The
quick eye of his mother detected something wrong — a grief
hidden from her, and therefore the more grievous and hard
to bear. Her look of inquiring love was too much for him
who had never before kept from her one thought of sorrow or
of joy. Savonarola durst not meet that look again ; and, for
a whole year, he so mastered his feelings as never for one
moment to bring it back into his mother's face. " If," he
said, long afterwards, " I had then laid open my whole mind,
I believe my heart would have broken, and that I should have
renounced my intention to become a monk."
Savonarola's life in his father's house came to an end on the
23rd of April, 1475. That evening, as he sat by his mother's
side, playing a mournful air on the lute, she suddenly ex
claimed, " My son, this is a sign that we are soon to part."
Hearing, as though he heard not, Savonarola, with trembling
hand, continued to play, but he ventured not to raise his eyes
from the ground. The next day was the festival of St. George,
a great holiday in Ferrara ; and upon that day, as soon as his
father and mother had gone to the festival, Savonarola left his
home for Bologna. He was then twenty-three years of age.
His profound admiration for St Thomas Aquinas, "the
glory of the Dominican Order," had decided Savonarola, from
the first, to become a Dominican monk.1 So, upon reaching
Bologna, he went direct to the convent of St. Dominic, and
thinking the meanest office within its walls almost too high an
1 A Domini-canis, or the Lord's watch-dog, as the monks of that Order
loved to regard themselves. 3

26 Savonarola.
honour to aspire to, he humbly prayed to be admitted as a
servant, that thus he might "do penance for his sins;" and
not, with the expectation then so prevalent, to pass from
secular employment to that of the cloister.
The step so long looked forward to with mingled hope and
dread having been taken, Savonarola had a difficult and pain
ful duty to fulfil. He must write to his father, and account for
his sudden flight, which, his own heart told him, had filled his
home with sorrow. But what could he say? Had he one
word of comfort to offer? Not one which his parents would
feel to be a comfort. This he knew very well. And yet he
must write the truth — the whole truth — yes, and at once,
before he laid his weary body down upon the hard pallet —
before another sun should rise upon that home he had left for
ever. Difficult, most difficult was the task ; but delay would
not make it easier or the duty less imperative, and Savonarola,
nerved by this thought, and by the loftiness of his purpose —
the purity of his motives — retired to his cell, and with all the
tenderness of a loving son wrote to his father.
In this letter, in which he tried rather to induce his parents
to take a right view of the step he had taken than to justify
his own conduct, Savonarola expressed himself as one whose
mind was thoroughly at peace, convinced that the path he had
chosen was the right one. And yet he acknowledged that his
"pain, misery, and grief," at leaving those so dear to him,
were " most heavy and severe." " My hope is," he adds,
"that the wounds will soon be healed, and be followed, even
in this world, by the consolation of God's grace, and in the
next, by glory." The date of this letter is, Bologna, April
25. M75-
Savonarola alluded in his letter to "a tract" written by
himself, which, he said, his father would find "upon the
books in the window." Its subject was, " The Wickedness of
the Times," which he described as " like those of Sodom and
Gomorrah." " But," he says, as if the future unfolded itself

Childhood and Youth. 27
before him, " already we see signs of famine, and pestilence,
and inundations which will proclaim God's wrath." "Part
again, O Lord," he implores, " the waters of the Red Sea, and
drown the wicked in the waves of Thine indignation."
This tract was, until lately, thought to be lost; its chief
value lies in this : It evinces that, from the first days of his
missionary life, Savonarola foresaw, or thought he foresaw, the
judgments about to fall upon Italy, and cherished the hope
that an extraordinary mission for the reformation of the Church
might be committed to himself; even that he (like Moses)
might be the instrument in God's hand for making a way for
the ransomed of the Lord to escape the bondage of spiritual
Egypt. His father found this tract, and upon it he wrote these sad
lines : " I remember how, on the 24th day of April, which was
St. George's Day, in the year 1475, my son Girolamo, then a
student of arts, being intended for the medical profession, left
our house, and went to Bologna, and entered the Dominican
Convent, intending to remain there and become a monk,
leaving me, Nicole Savonarola, his father, for my comfort,
nothing but these writings."

CHAPTER II.

" In darkness there is no choice. It is light which enables us to see the
difference between things." — Augustus W. Hare.

Accompanied by Ludovico, a young Dominican, to whom
alone the secret of his flight was known, Savonarola
entered the convent at Bologna. The only books he brought
with him were his Bible and Prayer-book. The monks gladly
welcomed him, and almost immediately he was appointed
instructor of the novices, a very responsible office, which Sa
vonarola accepted with regret. But simple obedience being,, to
his mind, one of the strongest evidences of progress in spiritu
ality and advancement towards perfection, he yielded to the
call of duty, and devoted himself with untiring energy to his
charge. It would have been his delight to study the Scrip
tures with these young men, to lead them to God, of whom
they were almost utterly ignorant. But his experience at
Bologna, was akin to that of Wycliffe, years before, at Oxford.
Aristotle was preferred to the Word of God, and his superiors
obliged him to devote many hours daily to lecturing upon
subjects which he regarded as mere "vanities."
To signify that he had left the world and become a new
creature, Savonarola's name underwent a change upon receiving
the habit of his order. Not entirely discarding his baptismal
name, Girclamo Maria Francesco, the Prior merely withdrew

Disappointed Hopes. 29
the two latter names, leaving the first, to recall the memory of
Jerome, one of the early fathers of the Church.
From the day that he entered upon monastic life, Savonarola,
with rigid faithfulness, kept the three vows of his order —
chastity, obedience, and poverty. So holy was he among his
fellows that Fra Sebastiano da Brescia, an eminent ecclesiastic,
who was his confessor for many years, declared his belief that
he had never committed a mortal sin. " Of which purity," says
Burlamacchi, " his admirable commentaries on the Holy Scrip
tures and the angelic visions, and especially that of the blessed
Virgin granted to him, abundantly evidence." His manners
were frank and affectionate, at times rough, but so animated,
so earnest, that his hearers listened, awestruck, to words
which bore no trace of hypocrisy. His simple, unfeigned
humility towards his brethren, whether superiors or inferiors —
so rare a virtue in the convent — drew all hearts to him. So
absorbed was he in the contemplation of heavenly things, that
he seldom spoke ; when he did, his words flowing from a heart
filled with love towards God and man, charmed, and no
seldom, profited his hearers. True to the life he had chosen,
he, from the first, surrendered everything calculated to excite
his affections, and "this sacrifice," Burlamacchi says, "was
never so painful as when he felt called upon to part with some
holy book or image of a saint."
He regarded the vow of poverty as a privilege, not a hard
ship, nor did he ever forget "the rights of poverty." He seems
to have had an intuitive love for the poor — "the suffering
members of Jesus Christ " — and esteemed poverty as in itself
a help to spirituality. To his loving, tenderly-loving heart the
poor were most dear, even as he believed them to be especially
dear to God.
Savonarola went far beyond his brethren in stern asceticism
He was soon so emaciated by fasts and vigils — for the days
upon which he allowed himself food would have been deemed
fast days by many of his brethren— that as he glided through

30 Savonarola.
the cloisters it was as if a shadow rather than a man crossed
your path. Sleep was to him almost a stranger ; short intervals
between long and painful vigils, when his weary frame sought
rest upon a sack of straw and a blanket, were all that he allowed
himself. A few articles of clothing, and one or two religious
books, composed all his earthly goods ; and yet Savonarola had
no special love for want and misery. On the contrary, he was
keenly alive to the beautiful in nature as well as in grace.
This is evidenced by passages in many of his sermons, in which
he uses whatever is lovely in Scripture imagery — diamonds, sap
phires, golden zones, white robes — to set forth the beauty of
the Church, a beauty now dimmed and tarnished, but a Divine
beauty to which he fondly hoped to be the means of restoring
her. The extravagant eccentricity which characterised the
religion of some monks he never admired or tried to imitate,
and in his writings he always placed bodily austerities far below
the graces of the Spirit in real value. But, in accordance with
the spirit and practice of his times, and of those in all ages
who have sought by withdrawal from the world and estrange
ment from objects of sense, to obtain nearer fellowship with
God ; as a means to this end, Savonarola was an ascetic, and
of the strictest type, "toiling to the utmost with a deadly sin
cerity," as Luther expresses it, "to bring his heart and con
science to rest and peace with God." How strange, that so
diligent a Bible student did not perceive that Christ, by His
first miracle, and the sanction of His presence at the marriage
at Cana of Galilee, placed Himself in direct opposition to this
spirit of asceticism.
Savonarola expected when he entered the convent to find
himself amongst angels rather than men. Could he have
looked for less from those who had voluntarily renounced the
world and all that the heart of man clings to, to devote them
selves to God? But he was miserably disappointed. The
vices which had so grieved his spirit in pleasure-seeking, God-
forgetting Ferrara, appeared to him even more glaring at

Disappointed Hopes. 31
Bologna, when practised beneath the hood and cowl of the
Dominican. In vain he sought for even one brother such as
he had pictured to his imagination. All bore the stamp of
men living without God in the world, while professing lo have,
for His sake, separated themselves from the world.
Savonarola wept bitterly as he pondered these things. His
obligation, too, to teach secular learning to the exclusion of
Scripture, unceasingly troubled him, and with a heavy heart
he performed his task, " endeavouring," he says, " as much as
possible, to avoid useless and vain questions," and to " leaven
his lectures with the simplicity of Christian faith." When free
to choose his subject for private study, he turned with delight
to the Scriptures, which were to him as " rivers of water in a
dry land." His poem, "De Ruina Ecclesia," written shortly
after he entered the convent, abounds in references to Scrip
ture, especially the Apocalypse, so full of symbol and imagery.
The poem is a dialogue between the writer and the Church :
" Where," he asks, " are the saints, the love, the purity of
past days ? " And the Church, taking him by the hand,
replies —
" When I saw proud ambition penetrate to Rome and defile
everything, I retired, and shut myself up in this place, where I
spend my life in tears."
She then shows him the wounds she has received in the
house of her friends. These draw from Savonarola a passion
ate appeal to the saints in heaven to pity her distress. "But
who," he asks, " has brought matters to this state?" And the
Church, pointing to Rome, replies, " A deceitful and proud
harlot." Then Savonarola exclaims —
" O, that I could break those soaring wings ! "
The Church in rebuking tone answers, " Weep, and remain
silent ; this to me seems best"
This poem is considered the best of Savonarola's poetical

32 Savonarola.
works ; but it has been justly said, that " Italy lost no poet by
his elevation to be her greatest preacher."
In the spirit of holy obedience Savonarola " weeps '' and is
" silent." " Silent," for a time, while fasting and prayer and
the instruction of the novices absorb his thoughts. But the fire
kindled within his soul could not be quenched, and like burn
ing jets of lava, the oft-repeated cry burst forth, " O God ! that
these soaring wings— wings that carry only to perdition — could
be broken." Can we wonder at that cry which death alone
could silence ? Perhaps it is not beyond the truth to say that
at no period of the civilized world — since the birth of Christ —
was it in a worse, a more degraded condition. The scandalous
lives of the Popes — Sixtus iv., Innocent viil, and Alexander vi.
— in whose days Savonarola lived, are but too well known.
Their vices, and the misery these entailed upon the people,
weighed down his spirit.
The special mission of the Dominican order was to preach
the Word of God to the faithful scattered abroad. In 1478,
Savonarola was promoted from the office of instructor of the
novices to that of preacher, for which his spirituality of mind
and profound knowledge of Scripture peculiarly fitted him.
We know nothing about those early sermons, not even what
impression they made upon those who heard them. The Day
will declare it.
After seven years' residence in the convent of Bologna,
Savonarola was sent, in January, 1482, on a mission to Ferrara.
Wishing to secure his heart against the attractions of home, he
visited his parents but seldom, his old friends not at all ; vainly
imagining that, by crucifying affections which God has im
planted in every human heart, he was fitting himself to be an
effective preacher of truth and righteousness. From the slight
allusion to his sermons of this date, by his biographer, it would
appear that they attracted little attention. To his mother he
lamented that in his case the saying proved true — " A prophet
has no honour in his own country." It is difficult to account

Page 33.

THE CITY OF FLORENCE

Disappointed Hopes. 33
for this indifference, for at no period of his life was Savonarola
deficient in natural eloquence. Undoubtedly, in his earlier
days, his manner and delivery were bad, and a natural defect
in his articulation may have offended his fastidious hearers.
Probably, too, the intellectual power and refinement of thought
which characterized his sermons could not be appreciated by
those accustomed to either dry, scholastic disquisitions, or
strains of coarse, vulgar familiarity. Yet, even then, there is
proof sufficient of the influence which he exercised over those
with whom he came in contact, even upon apparently trivial
occasions. For instance, going one day by water from Ferrara
to Mantua, he rebuked the blasphemous language of some
soldiers in the boat ; and with such effect that several of them
acknowledged their fault, and with tears implored his for
giveness. During this year — 1482 — a terrible war, which owed its origin
mainly to the ambition of Venice to add to her territories, and
to the extravagant desire of the Pope to increase the power of
his nephews, threw all Italy into confusion. In this war the
Venetians took the lead, and besieged Ferrara. After two
years of strife, which divided Italy into two hostile camps, a
treaty of peace was signed by Naples, Florence, Milan, and
Venice. The Pope sent no envoy, nor had he been consulted
upon the subject. When the terms of the treaty were made
known to him, he refused his signature, saying, "The treaty
you announce to me is one of shame and disgrace." The next
day he was attacked by gout ; shortly after which he died from
grief that war had ceased throughout Italy i
Before this terrible war had actually begun, most of the Do
minicans in Ferrara were ordered to leave their convent, " St.
Maria Dei Angeli." Savonarola was sent to Florence, the city
destined to be the scene of his most brilliant and most suffering
days. Bidding farewell to his native place for ever, he crossed
the Appenines, and, reaching Florence, went straight to the
Convent of San Marco.

CHAPTER III.
gomrjent of $an ttawc,

'Oft expectation fails, and most oft there
Where most it promises."
Shakespeare : All's Well that Ends Well.

The Convent of San Marco, situated near the Porto San
Gallo, in Florence, was, for a long period, the most
powerful monastery in Tuscany. In Savonarola's days it was
surrounded by extensive pleasure grounds, part of which is now
a botanic garden. It had been built and beautified by the
Medici family. In the early part of the fifteenth century it
was almost in ruins, and only remarkable for the scandalous
character of some monks of the order of San Silvestro, who
then inhabited it. In 1436, the elder Cosmo de Medici ob
tained permission from the Pope to remove these monks, and
to place the convent in charge of the reformed Dominicans of
the Lombard congregation. The first public library established
in Italy was that by which Cosmo enriched this convent, and
which before very long rivalled, if it did not surpass, the
far-famed library of San Lorenzo.
While learned men came from all parts of Italy to study
these precious volumes, their admiration was scarcely less
attracted by the exquisite paintings and frescoes which adorned
both the church and convent. The finest works of Fra Giovanni
di Fiesole, better known as Fra Beato Angelico, because of the
purity of his life, though he has never been canonized, were

Convent of San Marco. 35
expressly executed for this convent, in which he had watched,
wept, and prayed. Those conceptions of angelic beauty which,
M. Angelo said, he 'had " borrowed from heaven to enrich and
elevate the earth," were painted upon its walls ; while, upon the
upper corridors and friars' cells might be read the sacred story,
traced by other and not less gifted hands, of our Saviour's
birth and passion. The Annunciation, by Cavallino, is espe
cially beautiful. The expression of the Virgin's face, so calm,
so heavenly, still retains its freshness ; not that style of beauty
generally seen in her pictures, rather that of thankfulness,
combined with profound humility, upon receiving the Angel's
communication. Angelico's masterpiece, the Crucifixion, is in
the ancient chapter-house; also many pictures of saints and
martyrs, grand in their simplicity.
Fra Angelico painted sacred subjects exclusively, and never
for money. They who desired to possess one of his works
were obliged to apply for it to the Prior of the convent, from
whom he received the order or the permission to execute it.
To him painting was an act of religion, the expression of faith,
hope, and adoring love, which filled his heart and guided his
pencil. We read that, in order that his work might be, in some
measure, not unworthy of Him for whose glory it was under
taken, it was ever his habit to ask the blessing of God before
he began it. And when an inward assurance that his prayer
was heard had been granted, he never felt at liberty to deviate
in the smallest degree from the inspiration then conveyed.
Many visitors to San Marco have been struck by the pathetic
expression in the countenances of the bystanders at the Cruci
fixion, the Taking down from the Cross, and the Entombment,
in Angelico's pictures. But this cannot surprise us, for we also
read of him that every time he painted these subjects he wept
as if he had been present at those scenes of woe. It was this
deep sympathy with Christ in His sufferings, that is reflected in
those marvellous pictures.
Frescoes and paintings by the not less celebrated Fra Bar-

36 Savonarola.
tolommeo, who, led by the irresistible influence of Savonarola's
history, entered San Marco two years after the martyr's death,
also adorned the convent. Ghirlandajo painted a picture for
the refectory. The celebrated Crucifix, by Giotto, who was the
first to give to the Divine Sufferer the expression of holy
resignation, instead of that of mere physical agony, was placed
in the nave.
These masterpieces of the old Italian masters have ever at
tracted the lovers of art to San Marco, while for many, and espe
cially of late years, the convent possesses a peculiar interest,
with its old memories of Savonarola lingering within its walls.
His cell, larger than most of the others, and consisting of two
chambers, remains nearly in the condition in which it was left
on that day when he went forth to meet his cruel death. For
there were not a few who loved the monk, and for his sake
preserved his chair, the couch oft watered by his tears, the
robes of which they stripped him, his portrait also, taken in
days long past, when to paint his likeness was the highest
honour to which the artist could aspire. Was this portrait
Bartolomeo's celebrated work which represents the great
preacher thundering from the pulpit, his hands raised to heaven
as he prophesied of coming judgment? We know not. The
picture now exhibited in the convent is very indifferent as a work
of art, though not without character and force of expression.
After the martyr's death years passed away, in which his
name became almost forgotten. But now that admiration for
Italy's greatest orator and theologian, and sympathy for his
cruel fate, no longer excite hostility or derision, Florence
delights to show, amongst her most precious relics, these
memorials of her martyred son, and points to the inscription
over the door of his cell —
"Has cellulas
Ven. F. Hieronymus Savonarola
Vir Apostolicus
Inhah'lavit,"

Convent of San Marco. 37
which was placed there shortly after his martyrdom, as an evi
dence of the love his convent bore him. That this inscription
should have escaped the destructive hand of his enemies — the
Medici — appears unaccountable. It has been suggested, as
the cause of this tolerance, that perhaps the Prior's Republi
canism, attended as it was with the most uncompromising
sacrifice of worldly interests on his part, was too little attractive
to make it likely that many would be induced to follow his
example. Savonarola loved Art as well as any Medici ; and in Nature
he delighted to see shadows and symbols of spiritual life.
" No one," it has been observed, " entered more fully than he
did into St. Paul's words — ' There are, it may be, many kinds
of voices in the world, and none of them is without signifi
cation.' " At San Marco this love for the beautiful was fully
gratified, whether within the convent by works of sculpture and
paintings, which almost seemed to speak, or when in his lonely
walks, at Fiesole, he paused to admire a delicately pencilled
flower at his foot, or some glorious scene just opening to his
view. Then sitting down in some secluded spot he would take
his Psalter from his pocket, and, turning over its pages, seek
some appropriate text for every scene, every object, whether of
mountain or plain, which to his well-tuned ear, declared the
glory and the love of God. Thus delighted, and in his own
soul edified, Savonarola cherished the hope that at San Marco,
after all his wanderings and disappointments, he had found that
holiness and peace after which his soul yearned. But these
hopes proved vain. In not one of his brethren could he trace
a likeness to the holy saint Antonino, whose name was per
petually on their lips, and in whom, as the founder of several
charitable institutions in Florence, they professed to glory.
Pained to the heart, Savonarola shrunk from association with
false brethren — professors, but not possessors of truth, — and,
as he saw men rush from vehement discussion upon virtue
and the immortality of the soul, to the indulgence of every

38 Savonarola.
evil passion, a feeling of scorn — almost disgust — for secular
study arose within him. "To what good, to what purpose
has it ever tended?" he would ask himself. "Of what value
is the philosophy of Aristotle, this prostration of the intellect
to paganism which makes the Cross distasteful ?" He found
none to sympathise with these thoughts and feelings. Not
one could he induce to study the Scriptures with him,
Biblical Latin being considered impure, and calculated to
injure the taste. So entirely was God's Word — especially the
Old Testament — neglected, that a monk much respected in
San Marco gravely asked, "What possible good could be
derived from the knowledge of events so long since accom
plished?" But this ignorance in a monk need not surprise
us. Not many years later, Rome, in the person of her Pope,
Leo x., boasted that " the fable of Jesus Christ " had " served
her in good stead."
Savonarola preached his first sermon in Florence in the
church of San Lorenzo, in Lent, 1483. The attempt was a
complete failure — at least, so his audience deemed it. Great
things had been expected from the new preacher : his acknow
ledged learning and piety, his fine expressive countenance and
graceful figure gave promise that his sermons would not fail to
interest and attract. But the tones of the preacher, harsh and
thin, offended his hearers. His language, too, was considered
"dry and scholastic;" his gestures, "rude and awkward." At
the second sermon fewer attended, at the third fewer still,
" scarcely five-and-twenty lingered in the vacant nave."
And that Lent, while San Lorenzo was deserted, crowds
flocked to Santo Spirito to hear the Medici favourite —
Mariano Gennezzano — whose "sonorous voice, choice sen
tences, and noble language " enraptured and enslaved. But
Mariano has long since been forgotten, except as the opponent
of Savonarola, who will ever be remembered — and with deeper
and more fervent interest — the better he is known and under
stood. That he should now be cast into the shade by one

Convent of Sa?i Marco. 39
whose attraction for the Florentines, consisted quite as much
in the perfection of his dress as in his eloquence, was in
tolerable to his friends. Girolamo Benivieni, who had lately
become his disciple, was ready to blame Savonarola himself as
the author of his own unpopularity : his manner, " so wanting
in grace," he said, naturally made his doctrine, though " true,
useful, and necessary," distasteful to his hearers. " Elegance
of language," replied Savonarola, "must give way before
simplicity in preaching sound doctrine." Yet he keenly felt
his unpopularity : it was a deep trial to him — one by which,
had his spirit been less earnest, he would have been utterly
crushed. Sometimes, indeed, the thought struck him that he
had better give up preaching in public, and confine himself
to the instruction of the novices in San Marco. But how,
then, should he carry out the main object of his life? that
work to which he had consecrated himself. The idea, enter
tained one moment, was, the next, rejected. He must not be
conquered by natural defects; but would labour to subdue
them, and, if baffled, rise above them, for silent he could not,
would not be. He must preach against the prevailing iniquity
of the Church and the world, whether they would hear, or
whether they would forbear. Were not the Florentines, he
asked, "like the Hebrews of old, ungrateful, stubborn, and
rebellious?" Should he not, in the name of the Lord, declare
war against them ? From Old Testament history he had
learned that God often employed man as His instrument for
inflicting punishment upon His own people, and, as he medi
tated over these things, he earnestly prayed that God would
thus use him — that the rod of divine vengeance, sent for the
purifying of the Church, might be placed in his hands.
The philosophy of the times had led Savonarola to believe
that "an inward consciousness" would be the sign granted
that his petition had been accepted. This " inward conscious
ness," the natural result of ardent hope and strong desire, soon
revealed to him that his prayer had been heard and granted.

40 Savonarola.
Marvellous visions, as he believed, attested the truth of this
conviction. While conversing, one day, with a brother monk,
the heavens seemed to open before him, and, gazing into their
depths, he read the dread announcement that wrath against
Italy and the Church had gone forth from the presence of the
Lord ; and as he stood, awe-struck, a voice from afar com
manded him to declare to the people that which he had seen.
" Oh, that my voice could reach to the ends of the earth," was
Savonarola's response ; but, to his earnest call to repentance,
the Florentines turned a deaf ear.
Upon the death of Sixtus iv., which occurred during this
year, the difficulty of coming to a decision, as to his successor,
threatened the Church with schism. Savonarola' thus im
plored for her Divine protection : —
"Oh, look with pity on Thy Bride,
Amidst the storms of life,
What blood must flow, unless with might
Thy Hand shall stay the strife.
Thou, Who in mercy always doth delight,
Let not Thy handmaid be reduced once more
To silence, as in her poverty in days of yore."
Bad as Sixtus had been, his successor, Innocent viil, was
infinitely worse. His court soon became the shelter for every
species of vice, and thoughtful men awoke to the conviction
that reformation in the Church was sorely needed. Some
there were who hoped to obtain it ; but help from the See of
Rome towards that reformation was impossible, so long as the
court of Rome continued to be the very centre of iniquity.
Machiavelli, contrasting the hideous vice of Italy with the
comparative purity of Northern Europe, observes, "The
nearer a people dwells to the Roman court, the less religion
it has. Were that court set down among the Swiss, who still
remain pious, they, too, would soon be corrupted by its
vices." Guicciardini, upon reading these words, remarked —

Convent of San Marco. 41
"Whatever evil may be said of the Roman Court must fall
short of the truth."
As days grow darker, Savonarola fasts, mourns, and prays
all the more earnestly. Prostrate before the Lord, he implores
His aid as, day by day-, he bathes the altar steps with tears.
The tempest raging within his soul might have unhinged even
a less sensitive mind than his, had he remained comparatively
inactive at San Marco. Happily for him, he was now sent to
preach the Lent sermons at San Geminiano, a mountain village
not far distant. Feeling more at ease there, amongst simple-
minded peasants, than at Florence, he at once declared,
"upon the authority of Scripture," "The Church will be
scourged, then regenerated, and speedily;" words then, for
the first time uttered, but oft-repeated afterwards in the
Duomo of Florence ; and, not upon " the authority of Scrip
ture" alone, as now, but as a direct revelation from God Him
self to the preacher.
Old Testament history furnished facts sufficient, upon
which to ground his general assertion, that Divine wrath would
inevitably fall upon a guilty Church : a conviction burnt into
the preacher's soul by frequent meditation on the character of
God's dealings with Israel; from which he argued -that He
would, in like manner, deal with Italy and her Church. And
now, at San Geminiano, feeling sure to carry his audience
with him, his courage rose, his utterance became more free,
his language eloquent and convincing, as he prophesied of
coming judgment, and saw, in the rapt attention of his hearers,
that he had but expressed their own forebodings — the fears
which agitated the trembling hearts before him. And while
this sympathy between Savonarola and his audience refreshed
his spirit and calmed the tumult of his soul, it strengthened
him for future work, and he returned to San [Marco to resume
the quiet office of lecturer to those who had neither heart nor
understanding to appreciate him.
The following year, when on a mission to Lombardy, Savo-
4

42 Savonarola.
narola preached a course of Lent sermons at Brescia. No
trace of former infirmity marred his utterance, as with a voice
of thunder he " shook the souls of men," bringing thousands
to their knees ; then, closer and closer to the pulpit, by his
impassioned earnestness. Then, leaning over the pulpit side,
and stretching forth his hands — "hands that were like an
appealing speech" — he spoke to them words never to be
forgotten, making them weep and tremble at his pleasure.
His subject was from the Apocalypse — the four-and-twenty
elders standing before the throne. His mind, absorbed by the
troubled condition of Italy, the wickedness of both clergy and
people, he could think and preach but of impending judgment,
and in words which trembled under their heavy import, he
foretold that Brescia would, ere long, be attacked ; that blood
would flow through the streets ; husbands would be seen weep
ing for their wives, wives for their husbands, parents for their
children, children for their parents. These things, he prophe
sied, would be witnessed by some then living ; it might be by
some then listening to his solemn warning. Awed by his own
words — issuing from " the deep tarn of his heart, dark with its
own depths and the shadows hanging over it" — Savonarola
paused. Then looking around, he raised himself in the pulpit,
and gathering his strength together for one word of comfort and
of hope, he called upon all before him to repent, to turn to the
Lord, and He would assuredly have mercy upon them. From
that moment Savonarola was, to the people, a prophet of the
Lord. He knew it ; and by prayers more abundant, fastings
more frequent, laboured to be worthy of the high calling to
which he verily believed God had called him.
Twenty-six years after this war upon Brescia Had been de
nounced, six thousand of its inhabitants lay dead in the streets,
slaughtered by the ferocious soldiery of Gaston de Foix. But
some remained, and these recalled to mind the sermons preached
in Lent, i486, by that marvellous friar, Girolamo Savonarola,
who nine years afterwards joined the noble army of martyrs.

Convent of San Marco. 43
Shortly after leaving Brescia, Savonarola attended a chapter
of the Dominicans at Reggio. Prince Pico della Mirandola
was also there. He was only twenty-three years of age, but
possessed an amount of learning scarcely attained in those
days. These two young men had never met before. Savona
rola's bodily presence was not, at first, calculated to command
attention ; not until he spoke did he attract ; then the spirit,
which is the man, shone out in every gesture, every movement.
Prince Pico watched the grave, gentle-looking monk sitting
apart from his brethren. The face with cowled head rising
above the black mantle and white tunic fascinated him. He
could not withdraw his gaze from that delicate frame : the high
forehead deeply furrowed, the blue eyes of unearthly brightness,
soft, yet penetrating, and shaded by long auburn lashes ; the
hands so emaciated that, held before the light, they seemed
transparent; and as he watched he loved the man. But it
was when Savonarola rose to take his part in discussion, when
his countenance became excited, and his eye darted fire, then
it was that the soul of Pico became knit to that of the speaker
in bonds which death alone could sever. From that day,
wherever the Prince of Mirandola went, in whatever society he
found himself, the mighty eloquence, the intellectual power of
his friend, were the theme on which he loved to dwell.
Savonarola spent four years in Lombardy — years of earnest
preparation, to be followed by years of work and triumph. In
January, 1490, he went to Genoa to preach during Lent, and
then returned to Florence. While on his way to Genoa, he
wrote to his mother a letter so overflowing with tender love,
that we transcribe the greater part of it : —
"Honoured Mother, —
" The peace of Christ be with you. I know you
must be surprised that I have not written to you for so many
days, but that has not been from any want of thought for you,
but from the want of a messenger, for I could not meet with

44 Savonarola.
any one going about this time from Brescia to Ferrara, except
one of our own people who arrived here after the Feast of the
Nativity, with which I was so much engaged that I quite forgot
to write, which I very much regret. ... I can well imagine that
you have been in much tribulation, and so far as my frailty
will enable me, I pray to God continually on your behalf. I
know not what more I can do. If I could in any other way
help you I would do so, but I have voluntarily given myself to
be a slave for the love of Jesus, who, for the love of me, made
Himself man, and took the part of a slave to set me free. I
therefore in all things seek the glory of the liberty of the sons
of God, and do as much as in me lies to serve Him. I fear
His condemnation were I to do otherwise. He has given me
a talent, and I am bound to use it in the way most pleasing to
Him. Be not, therefore, displeased, my most dear mother, if
I go far away from you, and if I go about preaching in various
cities — as I do it for the salvation of many souls — preaching,
exhorting, confessing, reading, and giving counsel. I do not
go from place to place for any other object, and am moreover
sent by my superiors to perform that work. You ought, there
fore, to take comfort that God has condescended to elect one
of your offspring to be placed in so high an office — a calling
for which I myself cannot be too grateful, and in which I find
by ample experience that I benefit my own soul, as well as
that of others, incomparably more than I could have done at
Ferrara. . . . Therefore, my most honoured mother, grieve not on
my account, for the more I do that which is pleasing to God,
so much more will my prayers for you prevail. I thought to
write a few lines to you, but my love has made my pen run on,
and I have laid open more of my heart to you than I had any
thought of doing. Know then, finally, that my heart is more
fixed than ever to devote soul and body, and all the knowledge
which God has given me, for the love of God and the salvation
of my neighbours ; and as I cannot do it in my own country,
I will do it elsewhere.

Convent of San Marco. 45
" This day, so soon as I have dined, I proceed to Genoa.
Pray to God that He may lead me thither in safety, and enable
me to bring forth much fruit among the people there. Re
member me to my uncle, aunt, and cousins. May the grace of
God be with you, and keep you from all harm, for the love of
our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
" Written in Pavia, in haste, on the day of the conversion of
St. Paul the Apostle. "Your son,
" Frate Hieronymo Savonarola."

CHAPTER IV.
tynexnected itopularittj,

"Preach, as if you ne'er would preach again,
And as a dying man to dying men." Baxter.

Having spent four years in Lombardy, Savonarola, at the
express invitation of Lorenzo the Magnificent, returned
to Florence. This recall was at the instigation of Prince Pico,
whose enthusiastic admiration for his friend could not else be
satisfied. Little could Lorenzo calculate upon the result yet to
follow that recall — the establishment in Florence of the man
who should prove the most powerful enemy of the Medici.
Matured in thought and experience, Savonarola resumed his
lectures in San Marco. To his astonishment he found himself
popular. The estimation in which he was held by Pico had
procured him a name ; and not a few learned Florentines craved
permission to attend his lectures. This was reluctantly granted,
and in the cloister garden, shaded by damask roses, the friar
expounded his favourite book — the Revelation of St. John.
Day by day his audience increased. Soon, the garden could
not contain half the people who flocked to him, and the dis
appointed prayed him to lecture henceforth from the chapel
pulpit. His reply was, " Pray to the Lord for me." A Satur
day or two later he announced : " To-morrow I will speak in
the church. There will be a lecture and a sermon."
That "to-morrow" was ist August, 1491. The church was
crowded. Many of the most intellectual men in Florence

Unexpected Popularity. 47
pressed in to hear the famous preacher, the friend of Prince
Pico; yes, that despised monk, from whom, in disgust and
derision, they had turned away four years before.
With the crucifix in one hand and the Bible in the other,
Savonarola entered the pulpit. Called, he believed, as by a
voice from heaven, to spare neither old nor young, rich nor
poor, learned nor unlearned, he preached that day what he has
himself called " a terrible sermon." With the authority of a
prophet of the Lord, he proclaimed the approach of a great
crisis in the Church — a day of Divine vengeance which should
arrest the impenitent. " Every thing," he said, " tends to that
end," — the measure of iniquity, " full to overflowing," the moral
condition of the Church, " appalling," " doctrines of truth "
neglected, while "fables of astrology and soothsaying take
their place even in the minds of the clergy." The excitement
caused by this sermon was immense. But Savonarola knew
Florence — fickle, ungrateful Florence — too well to be over-
elated by one day's success ; perhaps the next might leave
him to preach to empty benches. Bearing this in mind, and
with the desire that any good effected by his sermons might be
permanent, he now resolved to publish his discourses. With
few exceptions, all previous to this period have been lost ; but
from this date (1491) an abundant store has been preserved.
As his hearers multiplied by hundreds, thousands, Savo
narola was driven from the convent chapel to the Duomo, the
church of " Santa Maria del Fiore." There, too, he declared,
in tones of triumphant certitude, " The day of vengeance is at
hand," while the people, fascinated, though awe-struck, eagerly
listened. Then, choosing the right moment, and lowering his
voice, he spoke of mercy in the midst of judgment. The
coming chastisement was to be inflicted, " that Italy and the
Church might, purified by the furnace, rise to a holy and
happy state." He paused, then, kissing the crucifix, he
pressed it to his heart, and spoke, in soft and loving accents,
of Him who died, that penitent sinners might live. For seven

48 Savonarola.
years from the date of that sermon, Savonarola was master
both of the pulpit and the people.
His popularity alarmed Lorenzo, and he sent five of the
principal Florentines to expostulate with him, and advise more
moderate language. " I am fully aware," replied Savonarola,
" that you have been sent to me by Lorenzo. Return to him,
and tell him from me to repent of his sins, for that the Lord
spares no one, and fears not the princes of this world."
" Take care," rejoined the messenger, " that your bold words
do not bring you into exile." " Do you threaten me with
banishment?" retorted Savonarola. "Go, tell Lorenzo that
though I am a stranger, and he the first man in Florence,
it is I that shall remain, and he must soon depart." This
answer was prophetic.
As the Magnificent's opposition increased, Savonarola (not
from personal fear, but lest his mission should thereby be
hindered) thought it right to confine his preaching within the
limits of moral precepts and general principles of religion,
while abstaining altogether from prophetic announcements.
But this self-imposed restriction was soon discarded ; he found
it impossible to restrain himself from the utterance of any
thought which he believed to be the voice of the Spirit within
him. He tells us that upon one occasion he wrote his sermon
on Friday, and " determined not to touch on prophecy ; but
lo ! the entire of Saturday and the following night he was
" much troubled in mind by reason of that decision." Sunday
came. At daybreak, worn and depressed, he rose for prayer,
and while on his knees heard a voice saying to him, " Fool
that thou art ! dost thou not see that it is God's will that thou
shouldst keep in the same path ? " The consequence was, that
" I preached," said Savonarola, " a tremendous sermon." It
was, in fact, in the belief that a Divine mission had been
entrusted to him, and in liberty to proclaim that which he
regarded as truth, that the friar's strength lay. Shorn of that,
he became weak as another man.

Unexpected Popularity. 49
He had been only a year in Florence when he was made
prior of San Marco. Upon such an appointment it had long
been the custom for the newly-elected prior to do homage to
him from whom it had been received. Savonarola refused to
conform to this custom. "I regard God," he said, "as the
Author of my election ; let us, therefore, go into the chapel,
and return thanks to Him." This greatly offended Lorenzo.
" See, now," he said, " here is a stranger come into my house
who will not deign to visit me." And yet the Magnificent had
no desire to go to open war with the Prior ; he would rather
win him by gentle means. Savonarola saw through these, and
when Lorenzo walked through the convent garden, he kept
within his cell, and thus escaped the snare. Disappointed, but
not hopeless of succeeding, Lorenzo sent his chancellor to drop
rich gifts into the alms-box. Opened shortly afterwards, the
Prior doubted not whence came the gold and silver pieces, and
with scorn rejected them as an unholy bribe, "as a piece of meat
thrown to a dog to silence his bark at the approach of robbers."
And now Lorenzo, who had long been failing in health,
grew weary of resisting one who was too strong for him — one
moreover, whom he could not but respect- — and he ceased to
oppose him, either in public or private. His own popularity,
too, began to decline from the time that the Florentines, in
stead of finding enjoyment (as before) in the public spectacles,
which he unceasingly provided for their amusement, turned to
religious services, under the guidance of Savonarola, as a better
manner in which to spend their time and their energies.
The admirers of the Medici speak in glowing terms of the
peace, splendour, and prosperity which reigned in Florence
during the last three years of the life of the Magnificent. The
splendour was, however, but glittering show, the peace, a dull
submission to despotic rule which it were vain to resist. Civil
liberty had altogether perished in Florence, the Republic which
had done, and suffered, so much to obtain it.

CHAPTER V.
The Magnificent and the ffrinr.

"Now conscience wakes despair
That slumbered, wakes the bitter memory
Of what he was, what is, and what must be."
Milton : Paradise Lost.

In the early spring of 1492, Lorenzo the Magnificent lay
dying in his enchanting villa at Careggi, three miles from
Florence. The doctors having pronounced his case hopeless,
left him to prepare for a speedy appearance into the presence of
God. But this preparation was not so easy a matter as they pro
bably thought, or as Lorenzo himself used to think, if, indeed, he
had ever given a passing thought to eternity. But now, brought
face to face with death, he trembled very exceedingly, and
recognised the importance of making sure of an interest in the
next world, now that the present was slipping from his grasp.
But in a book, not much read in those days, these words
had long before been written : — " There is no peace, saith the
Lord, unto the wicked ; " and the dying prince now found them
true. Why did Volterra so fill his thoughts — disturb his
dreams ? Why did the cries of the widow and the fatherless
ever ring in his ears ? Why did the gold and silver, of which
he had robbed them to replenish his exhausted treasury, seem
to " eat his flesh as it were fire ? " Why ? Because that same
Word of God had declared that thus it should be. He had
sown " the wind," and was reaping " the whirlwind."
His friends, Pico, Politian, Ficino, did their best to soothe

The Magnificent and the Prior. 51
his troubled spirit, reminding, him in accordance with the
teaching of his day, that " the necessities of his position "
were an abundant excuse for aught that he had done which did
not, as he lay on his deathbed, appear to him to have been
well done. But Lorenzo was not cheered by that comfortable
doctrine, so he sent for the ministers of religion — long neglected
and despised — and received from them the Sacraments of the
Church. He had never doubted the efficacy of these or
dinances to give peace, but they failed to comfort him now in
this hour of extremest need. Why ? Because he very much
doubted the priests at whose hands he received them. How
could he tell whether they were true men or false ? Often had
he boasted that no man had ever ventured to utter a resolute
" No," to him. Could he, therefore, now believe, upon the
assurance of any man on the face of the earth, that his sins
were forgiven ?
Yes. There was one man, and only one, whom he felt
certain would tell him the truth — that man was the prior of
San Marco. If he should assure him of forgiveness, the dying
prince would believe him, and die in peace. So, in hot haste,
a messenger was despatched for Savonarola. "Make haste,
delay not," were his orders as he rode out of the courtyard at
Careggi. The Prior, little expecting such a summons, at first
hesitated to obey it ; but when assured that Lorenzo lay at the
point of death, and that he earnestly desired to confess to
him, he at once started for Careggi. Reaching the villa, he
found Prince Pico sitting by his friend. Pico immediately
withdrew, and the confessor approached the dying man. In a
weak and trembling voice Lorenzo said there were three things
which lay heavy on his conscience, and for which he im
plored absolution : the merciless destruction of Volterra, the
appropriation, to himself, of money intended as marriage-
portions for the daughters of its citizens, and the shedding of
innocent blood in Florence after the Pazzi conspiracy. Savona
rola spoke to him of the tender compassion and mercy of that

52 Savonarola.
God whom he had offended. " But," he added, " three things
are necessary, before you can hope for the pardon of your sins."
" What things, father ?" asked Lorenzo, looking steadily into his
confessor's face. " In the first place," he replied, raising his left
hand with three fingers extended, while, with the forefinger of
the right, he told off the three requisites as he named them —
" in the first place, it is necessary that you have a strong and
lively faith in God." "That I have, most fully," answered
Lorenzo. " In the second place," continued the confessor, " it is
absolutely essential that you restore, or leave directions to have
restored, all that you unjustlytook away." Thiswas an enormous
demand. For a moment Lorenzo hesitated, then he assented
to it by a movement of his head. " Lastly," continued the
stern Dominican, drawing himself up to his full height, " you
must restore liberty to the Commonwealth of Florence." With
intense anxiety Savonarola waited the reply to this, he well
knew, most hard requirement. But there was none. The
dying prince turned his face to the wall and remained silent.
He could not, even to save his soul, cut off his right hand, or
pluck out his right eye. Therefore the friar left him unabsolved,
and returned himself to Florence. Shortly after this, Lorenzo
died (April 8th, 1492).
His death was much lamented in Florence. Many, even of
those who had been galled by his government, regretted his
death, because they knew not but that his successor might
prove more tyrannical. Others, and especially the populace,
mourned his loss when they remembered the amusements he
had so abundantly provided for them ; while literary men, and
lovers of art of all classes throughout Italy, regarded his death
as a public calamity.
Lorenzo was succeeded by his son Pietro — " a fool," as his
father designated him. From the first, Pietro's incapacity
for government made him unpopular, and soon an opposition
party was formed, consisting chiefly of those who, in his father's
days, had been fast friends of the Medici

The Magnificent and the Prior. 53
The Pope, Innocent vm., died July 26th, and without delay
a conclave of twenty-three cardinals met to elect his successor.
The election was carried by bribery, votes being sold to the
highest bidder. The infamous Roderigo Borgia gained the
day. For a moment it seemed likely that his most powerful
rival, Ascannio Sforza, might be the successful candidate;
whereupon a mule, laden with gold, was led into the court
yard of his palace, which at once settled the matter to the
satisfaction of those most concerned in the shameful transac
tion. The new Pope received a letter of congratulation from
Henry vii. of England ; but old King Ferdinand wept when
he heard the news — a thing he was never before seen to do,
and said to his Queen : " A Pope has been elected who will
bring ruin upon Italy and upon all Christendom." And now
that heavy clouds darkened the political horizon, thoughtful
men whispered, one to the other, that the Magnificent had " died
too soon " — that Pietro was no match for the times, when Italy,
" the garden and paradise of the world, was fast turning to a
hell upon earth."
The troubles now about to flood Italy " were not," it has
been observed, " so much owing to the special wickedness of
one man, or of a number of men, as to the inevitable operation
of certain principles then universally held as sound and indis
putable." The idea which then prevailed, that, " he who pos
sessed the land was the natural and God-appointed ruler of
those living upon that land," naturally led to the belief that " a
nation, as an estate, was subject to all the rules, and changing
of hands, to which other property was liable. This, indeed,
was the general belief — that the sovereign had a right to
bequeath his kingdom as he would other property — how, and
to whom, he would, " under the same conditions and limita
tions." In the disputes which now arose in Italy, Naples and
Milan played a prominent part. We shall not enter into the
subject, except to say that they led to a secret treaty between
Charles vm. of France and Ludovico il Moro, Duke of

54 Savonarola.
Milan, by the terms of which Charles was granted a free
passage into Italy both by Lombardy and Genoa.
The religious as well as the political atmosphere of Italy
was now dark in the extreme. The present Pope, Alex
ander vi., was the worst of all the popes, and that is a bold
word. His scandalous immoralities and injustice, "more
notorious," says Hallam, " than could be paralleled in the
darkest age that preceded," startled Europe. And as his
character developed, " the veil woven by religious zeal" was rent
asunder, and the hideous features appeared without disguise —
features, indeed, which had characterised other popes of that
period; but, in one respect, Roderigo Borgia stood alone —
vices, by others indulged in secret, were, by him, practised
publicly. And now, as matters grew worse and worse, not a few
recollected that these woes had been foretold by that great
preacher of righteousness, the Prior of San Marco, whose mar
vellous sagacity had enabled him, by careful observation of
passing events, to predict those yet in the future. And as his
popularity increased, the estimation in which he was held by
others reacted upon himself, deepening in his inmost soul the
conviction that, the gift of prophecy (which he had learned
from St. Thomas Aquinas, " is sometimes given to a man for
the benefit of others, as well as for the enlightening of his own
mind ") had been, indeed, entrusted to himself. The Old Testa
ment prophets (the food by which he strengthened himself for
his work) Savonarola read and re-read with increased appro
priation of their import to himself and to the times in which
he lived ; and now, again, he saw visions and dreamed dreams
which, to his fervent and over-excited mind, seemed to reveal
to him things not made known to the uninspired.
About this time it was that, while preaching an Advent
sermon, he saw the heaven open, and a hand suspended in
mid air, and in the hand a drawn sword, upon which was
written, " The sword of the Lord upon the earth and speedily."

The Magnificent and the Prior. 55
As he gazed, awe-struck, soft words fell on his ear — mercy
would be remembered in the midst of judgment ; pardon ex
tended to the penitent. Then the voice deepened, and in
solemn tones declared, that sure and terrible would be the
doom of the impenitent. Scarcely were these words uttered,
when, "all of a sudden, the sword turned towards the earth,
the air became dark, showers of swords, and arrows, and fire
descended, and fearful thunders shook the heavens, whilst war,
pestilence, and famine desolated the earth." As the vision
vanished, a voice was heard commanding Savonarola to tell
the people what he had seen and heard, that by timely re
pentance they might find shelter in the day of the Lord's
vengeance. This vision was considered so symbolical
of Savonarola and of his doctrines, that representations of it
were afterwards engraven upon medals. •
Shortly before the death of Lorenzo the Magnificent, Sa
vonarola had, in the presence of three Florentines of note,
predicted his death, and also that of Pope Innocent and
Ferdinand, king of Naples. Two-thirds of the prophecy had
already come true, when the remaining third was fulfilled on
the 23rd of January, 1494, by the death of old King Ferdi
nand. The prophet often alluded to this well-attested fact, in
proof of the reality of his prophetic powers. Not that there
was anything remarkable in the fulfilment of the prophecy ;
Lorenzo's health had long been shattered by a course of life
not calculated to prolong it ; the Pope had for years been, as
many thought, on the brink of the grave ; and Ferdinand had,
even then, reached the ominous age of threescore years and
ten. Nevertheless, the death, both of Lorenzo and the Pope,
occurring so soon after the prophecy had been uttered, com
bined with the fact that Lorenzo sent for the Prior when on his
deathbed ; and the yet more marvellous fact that he had been
denied absolution, served, amazingly, to increase Savonarola's
popularity, and to place him in a position to play his part in
the political history of Florence just about to open.

$6 Savonarola.
Shortly after Lorenzo's death, Savonarola preached a course
of sermons at Pisa, and the following year he preached during
Lent at Bologna. Not unnaturally, the monks of San Marco
attributed this repeated absence of their Prior to the dislike
felt for him by Pietro de Medici, and this increased their dis
tress. Savonarola wrote thus to comfort them : — " I always
keep in mind your tender love, and often speak of it to my
friend and much-loved son, Fra Basilio. We are very solitary,
like two turtle-doves waiting for the return of spring to retire to
a warmer climate, where we used to live among the joys and
flowers of the Holy Spirit. But, if you feel so sad that you
cannot exist without me, your love is but imperfect, seeing that
it is God who has removed me from you."
The popular opinion respecting his preaching at Bologna
was rather unfavourable. " He is only a simple man fit to preach
to women," was whispered from one to another as they left the
church. Yet numbers came to listen, and amongst them the
wife of Giovanni Bentivoglio, Lord of Bologna, a tyrant whose
very name struck terror. This lady came frequently, and
always late, followed by a retinue of ladies, gentlemen, and
attendants. Their noise and clatter, as they walked up the
church, disturbed the congregation, to the infinite annoyance of
the preacher. For some Sundays he merely paused in his
sermon to allow time for the commotion to subside. At
length, one morning, when the disturbance was at its height,
he thus addressed the offender : — " My lady, you would please
God, and give me great satisfaction, if you would come at the
beginning of the sermon, so as not to disturb me or my
hearers." No amendment followed this request — on the con
trary, her ladyship's next attendance in church was more noisy
and with unusual pomp. Then Savonarola could no longer
restrain himself, and, as she walked to her accustomed place,
he called aloud — " It is the devil who comes in to interrupt
the worship of God." Infuriated at the insult, the incensed
lady ordered two of her attendants to arrest the preacher in

The Magnificent and the Prior. 57
the pulpit. For this they had not courage, or rather, perhaps
we should say, God protected His faithful, though (upon this
occasion) misguided servant. Still bent upon taking his life
she sent two men to assassinate him in his cell that same even
ing. The porter of the convent, distrusting their appearance,
refused them admission, and, telling them to wait outside,
informed Savonarola of their desire to see him, and of his own
fears respecting their intentions. " Admit them," he replied ;
" my trust is in the Lord." The assassins entered, and for a
moment gazed on their intended victim. "What is your busi
ness ? " he asked. Awed by his resolute, commanding manner,
their courage fled, and they stammered out, " Our lady sends
us to your reverence, to say she is ready to supply you with
whatever you may require. '; "Return my thanks to your
lady," he said, and they withdrew. They could not touch a
hair of his head, because his hour had not yet come. Hence
forth, this lady and her attendants thought it prudent to avoid
annoying such an one as Savonarola.
When Lent ended, he left Bologna. Lest, however, it should
be thought that he did so from fear of personal injury, he
announced his intention at the close of his last sermon.
" This evening," he said, " I shall leave Bologna with my
walking-stick and wooden flask, and shall sleep at Pianoro.
If any one has anything to say to me, let him come before
I leave. My death will not be celebrated at Bologna."
That evening he did set out for Florence, accompanied by
his friend, Fra Basilio. The discontent of the people under
Pietro's government, and Pietro's marked hostility towards
himself, sorely troubled the Prior as he drew near the city, not
knowing what should befall him there. Weary and foot-sore
he pursued his way, when suddenly, as nature was about to
sink, he was granted a vision to strengthen and encourage
him. In this vision a man appeared to the tired, overwrought
traveller, and accompanied him to the gate San Gallo of
Florence, and then departed with this note of warning —
S

58 Savonarola.
"Remember, that thou doest that for which thou hast been
sent by God."
Was this indeed a vision ? Or was it the result of physical
weakness which enfeebled the brain, and caused imaginary
objects to assume the form and figure of reality? Whatever
opinion may be entertained respecting this strange incident, it
is unreasonable from it, or from any number of similar inci
dents, to stamp the character of Savonarola as that of a mere
enthusiast, a dreamer of dreams, and nothing more. Luther,
Knox, and Columbus also saw visions, and dreamed dreams,
yet history has not thus misrepresented them. The incident
is related by Burlamacchi, Savonarola's biographer, and one of
his most constant and attentive hearers. There seems to be
nothing strange in it, when read in the light of the times in
which Savonarola lived, and of the Church to which he
belonged. The visions stated to have been seen by him were
only dissimilar — in respect of the object for which they were
granted, and the use he made of them — to the many thousands
recorded in the lives of the saints, every one of whom had his
vision, dream, or miracle to relate — gifts, all of them, which
the Church of Rome professes to be ordinary gifts of her
grace imparted to those in communion with her. But, besides
this, who can affirm that (although the age of miracles has
now, and had then, passed away) God might not, upon special
occasions, if so He pleased, manifest His purposes, and even
Himself, in a way different from His ordinary dealings with
the sons of men ?

CHAPTER VI.
Extracts frnm $ernums.

"What thou art in the sight cf God, that thou truly art."
Thomas a Kempis.
Savonarola was, indeed, something more than a dreamer
of dreams ; and now, on his return to San Marco, he put
forth all his energy to stem the torrent of practical abuses
which threatened to destroy the convent.
San Marco had lately been restored to its original position,
as centre of the Tuscan congregation, which was dependent
only on Rome ; Savonarola, its Prior, could not, therefore, be
removed from Florence, except by the Pope. And now, with
a sense of freedom and security not before enjoyed, he set
himself to work a thorough reformation of the convent —
a reformation sorely needed. Discipline had become so
relaxed, and, as a necessary consequence, morality had so de
clined, that at one time Savonarola had thought of retiring,
with a few of his brother-monks, to a solitary mountain, where
they might live as hermits. The mountain for this retreat had
actually been selected, the woods ordered to be cut down;
but before this order had been obeyed, Savonarola, happily,
took a more sober, practical view of his position, and the duty
to which, as a reformer both of Church and State, he believed
he had been called. To remain in the place of God's appoint
ment, and endeavour to work a reformation there, now seemed
to him the path of duty, and he remained at San Marco.

60 Savonarola.
Let us, however, for a moment look into the would-be her
mitage which had so charmed the imagination of the Prior. In
appearance it was to be plain in architecture, quite unadorned,
no show of grandeur or ornament either within or without ; " a
place where sincere and royal poverty would not disdain to
dwell." The cells were to be small, the windows and doors
without bars of iron or locks ; for the hermits, under the im
mediate protection of God, need fear no thieves ; and indeed
their poverty might well shield them from such intruders. The
church, especially the choir, was to be free from fine wood or
carved work ; the pictures few, and of the most chaste and un
pretending style ; the vestments of plain woollen or linen fabric ;
the sacramental vessels inexpensive ; one bell, and that a small
one. In short, every part of the building was to be of the
plainest description. A trusty porter was to keep the gate.
When strangers asked admission, he was to inquire, " Are you
simple folk ? " If they answered, " We are," they were to be
admitted. If not, they must withdraw, for none but simple
folk might enter that abode of poverty and love. The more
talented of the lay brethren were to learn useful arts, such as
sculpture and painting, which could be pursued in silence, and
thus prove favourable to meditation. The friars themselves
were to be entirely devoted to preaching, as became men of
their order. A few of the more gifted were to be trained for
missionary life and work. This was the kind of convent over
which Savonarola would have chosen to preside had the liberty
of choice been granted him.
But now, that thought abandoned, Savonarola, confident
that God would guide his steps and carry him through all
difficulties, entered upon his arduous labour as a monastic
reformer. His desire was, he tells us himself, " not to make
hermits, but good, religious men, who should lead holy lives,
and be ready to shed their blood for the salvation of souls."
Bright hopes gilded the future, when, corruption subdued,
faith rekindled, and love intensified, he and his friars should

Extracts from Sermons. 6l
go forth and conquer a world for Christ. Then should Con
stantinople restore Jerusalem to the faithful, and the religion
of Christ be spread throughout the East. These were his
hopes. But, for a work so holy, fit implements must be found
— godly, self-denying men — not such, as were too many around
him, who, while naming the name of Christ, did not depart
from iniquity. The reformation he aimed to accomplish must
be a thorough reformation ; the vow of poverty must be re
vived ; the last words of St. Dominic, " Be charitable, preserve
humility, practise poverty with cheerfulness;" and that terribly
awful malediction, " May my curse and that of God fall upon
him who shall bring possessions into this order," must no
longer remain a dead letter. These words, inscribed upon the
cloister walls of San Marco, must again be heard. " They
must," echoed the Prior, as, wrapt in thought, he walked those
cloisters, and from time to time rekindled his enthusiasm, as
he gazed on Angelico's picture of St. Dominic, until he almost
heard that awful curse fall from his lips. For that curse had
been incurred. Possessions, enormous wealth, had been brought
into the convent. The vow of poverty had been again and
again broken. And what of the other vows, had they been kept ?
They had been broken, times without number.
Voluntary aid had of late years been withheld from the
convent. In order to supply this deficiency, Savonarola
established schools for instruction in the fine arts, sculpture,
painting, architecture, and illuminating and copying of manu
scripts. Lay brothers, and even friars who had not talent for
these studies, were given suitable employment, often of a
menial character, that thus their superiors might be left free
to carry on their especial work — the cure of souls and the
education, spiritual and intellectual, of the novices. As a help
to the right interpretation of Scripture, Greek, Hebrew, and
other foreign languages were taught in San_ Marco. These
studies, the Prior fondly hoped, would yield much fruit when
he and his friars entered upon their gospel mission to the East.

g2 Savonarola.
In study, and in strictest self-denial, Savonarola ever took
the lead. He was, in truth, the living model of the principles
he professed. His cell was more poorly furnished, his raiment
coarser, his bed harder, than those of his friars ; if severe to
wards them, he was more so towards himself. And thus, not
driving his brethren before him, but beckoning them to follow,
reformation made progress, and the convent rose rapidly in
reputation. Many of the first citizens of Florence now sought,
as the highest favour, admission within its walls ; while neigh
bouring convents were anxious to unite themselves with San
Marco, by becoming members of the Tuscan congregation.
To this latter demand, Savonarola, wishing to walk circum
spectly, and not give his enemies just cause of complaint
against him, referred the decision to the Pope, as not being
within the compass of his own authority. Gladly would he
have welcomed all the Dominicans of Tuscany round San
Marco. He was, however, disappointed in some instances.
In Pisa, only four out of forty-four friars consented to the
union ; and at Siena, while making a tour to effect this special
object, the magistrates ordered him to leave the city. He
withdrew, and returned to Florence, where he was received
with expressions of cordial, fervent sympathy.
A course of sermons on Psalm lxxiii., preached during Lent
about this year, are considered amongst Savonarola's best.
They contain a complete statement of the doctrines which he
desired to photograph upon the hearts of his hearers. Thus
we see that it was during the early years of Roderigo Borgia,
the worst of Popes, that in Italy, the citadel of Popery, doc
trines were preached and joyfully received, which, five-and-
twenty years later, were proclaimed by Luther, Zuingle,
Calvin, Knox, and other leaders of the Reformation. Is
not this fact adequate to give to the name of Savonarola an
undying interest ? And it is remarkable that it was while he
was preaching " faith in Christ as the gift of God for the sal
vation of every believer," that the Spanish Inquisition revived,

Extracts from Sermons. 63
" that accursed tribunal," as the Spaniards now call it, by the
help of which Ferdinand and Isabella carried on their military
operations according to the fashion of those dark times, when
"priests governed politically, and princes ruled ecclesiasti
cally." And this, as already stated, had long been the con
dition of Italy, as well as of other parts of Europe ; the Church
and the State were not only united, but amalgamated, the Pope
being temporal prince, as well as head of the Church. But
the breaking up of this state of things was already at hand,
brought about by political changes, when Savonarola entered
upon his career as the dauntless denouncer of "princely priests
and priestly princes." He did his work without fear or favour
of man ; and God honoured him, using him as the breaker up
of the fallow ground — the forerunner of a more enlightened
class of labourers.
A few extracts from the sermons just alluded to will be read
with interest : — " Faith is the gift of God, therefore, my chil- I
dren, do not follow those who say, ' If I were to see some
miracle — some one rise from the dead — I would believe.' (
Such persons deceive themselves, for faith is not a thing in
our power, but is a supernatural gift — a light transmitted from
above into the mind of man ; and whosoever would receive
this, must inwardly prepare himself and humble himself before !
God." ..." But why, thou mayest ask, why are some elected
and others not? The things of faith, my son, thou must
search after by the light of faith and in the way which Scrip
ture points out ; further than this, thou must not go if thou
dost not wish to stumble. Who art thou that repliest to God ?
Hath not the potter power over the clay, to make of the same
mass one vessel to honour, and another to dishonour ? In the
elect God shows His mercy, in the reprobate His justice.
But if thou askest me, wherefore has God predestinated this
man and not that ? Why is John elected rather than Peter ?
My answer is, '-It-4s--God^s- will, -and- -there is no -other answer
to be given.' Origen, who would go beyond these limits, said

64 Savonarola.
that predestination depended upon merits in another life an
terior to the present. Pelagius said that it depended on one's
merits in this life. According to these heretics, the beginning
of well-doing was from ourselves; its consummation and
perfection from God. But the Scriptures are most clear. They
tell us, not in one place, but in many, that not only the end of
good works, but their beginning, come from God. And thus,
in all our good works it is God who works in us. It is, there
fore, not true that, through pre-existing works and merits, God
gives us grace, and that by them we are predestined to the life
eternal, as if works and merits were the cause of predestina
tion. As we have said already, the will of God is the sole
cause. " Tell me, St Peter ; tell me, Mary Magdalene, why are ye
in Paradise ? Ye have sinned as we have done. Thou, Peter,
who hadst been witness of the Son of God, conversed with
Him, heard Him preach, seen His miracles, and, with two
other disciples, beheld Him transfigured on Mount Tabor,
and heard the Paternal Voice ; notwithstanding all this, thou
afterwards deniedst Him to a low-born woman ; and thou wast
again restored to favour, and made head of the Church, and
art now in possession of eternal bliss. From whence hast
thou derived all these blessings? Confess that thou owest
them — all thy salvation — not to thy own merits, but to God."
Speaking of love, Savonarola observes : — " Great and power
ful is love, for it can do all things, prove all things, overcome
all things ; nothing is done without the impulse of love. And
so, charity is the greatest love among all loves, for it performs
great and marvellous things. It fulfils easily and pleasantly
the whole of the divine law, because it is the measure and the
rule of all laws. . . . He who has this law of charity directs
himself and others rightly, and rightly interprets all laws. . . .
Take the example of Christ, who, moved by exceeding charity,
became as a little child, and made Himself in all things like
unto the sons of men ; suffering hunger, thirst, cold, heat, and

Extracts from Sermons. 65
sorrow. What led Him to do all this ? Love. At one time
He conversed with the great, at another with publicans ; and
He led such a life that all men and all women, little and great,
rich and poor, might imitate Him, each according to his own
measure and according to his own station. . . . Charity bound
Christ to the Cross, Charity raised Him from the dead, made
Him ascend into heaven, and thus work out all the mysteries
of redemption. This is the true, the only doctrine, but in
these days preachers tell us only of vain subtleties."
No class of men were so stejrnly rebuked as the clergy.
" Why," Savonarola asks, " do they tickle the ears with Aris
totle, Virgil, Plato and Plutarch ? Why do they not, instead,
teach that alone in which is the law and the spirit of life?
The Gospel, my Christian brethren," he often said, "must
be your constant companion. I speak not of the book, but of
its spirit. If you have not the spirit of grace, although you
carry the whole volume about with you, it will be of no avail.
And how much more foolish are they who go about laden with
briefs and tracts, as if they kept a stall at a fair."

CHAPTER VII.
The Bihle Student.

"The diligence of the righteous works slowly but surely." Schiller.
Savonarola adopted and carried to extreme length the
doctrine taught in his day — that Scripture may be inter
preted according to not only its literal, but also its spiritual,
moral, allegorical, and analogical senses. By this mode of
interpretation the Bible had almost ceased to be regarded as a
record of real events : it had become, rather, a storehouse of
texts to be used in theological warfare in defence of, or in
opposition to, any doctrine or purpose, without reference to the
original meaning of the passage of which such and such a text
formed apart. But while he held fast this theory of "the manifold
senses of Scripture," his appreciation of the Scriptures themselves
was far, very far, in advance of his times. It is told of him that
he had learned the entire Bible by heart : that there was not
a text which he could not find at any moment. And this.
knowledge was not merely head knowledge. By constant study
and prayer, God's Word had become to him as the voice of its-
Divine Author, revealing deep things to his soul. And as he
read and pondered over the Word, it was his habit to jot down
on the margin of the page the various " inspirations " granted
to him. These notes, which may still be seen in many of his
Bibles, were written solely for his private study. From these,
numbers of his sermons were prepared, for Savonarola never

The Bible Student. 67
doubted the correctness of any interpretation, however wild or
extravagant, which " the manifold senses of Scripture " allowed
to a text or passage.
As a general rule, the Bible — " The Sword of the Spirit" —
was the weapon with which he fought and won the battle, as
he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to
come. For every thought which arose within his mind, every
abuse he would correct, every event, however extraordinary
and unexpected, he believed to be at hand, the Bible, as he
interpreted it, provided a text. But while this was his general
rule, there were occasions, and not few, when, carried away by
excitement and religious fervour, he preached, as undeniable
truth, that which had been revealed to him by vision, without,
at the same time, bringing Scripture authority for his state
ments ; and, bearing in mind his highly imaginative tempera
ment, his ascetic life, and protracted vigils, it is not surprising
that, brought up in a Church which maintains that miraculous
gifts still exist within her communion, Savonarola, under the
conviction that he himself was a partaker of those gifts, should
have allowed his imagination to overpower his judgment. The
Bible, too, as he read it, instead of serving as a check to these
excesses of fancy, rather stimulated them.
His sermons prove this to have often been the case.
Believing the state of things in Italy to have been prefigured
by the words and even the events of Old Testament history, he
unhesitatingly applied passages in which God's wrath is denounced
against the wicked, to that land and to its people. For Judah,
Israel, Ephraim, he substituted Florence, Italy, Rome; and,
assured that " the same judgment tracks the same vices still,"
he hurled the most awful denouncements of Divine judgment
against those places which, either by vision or by dream, he
had seen marked for destruction. As he said himself, his
words were, "as the hail which destroys all who have no
shelter." It would appear, indeed, that in the Florentine
reformer, this one idea of Divine judgment being the means by

68 Savonarola.
which sinners should be brought to repentance — the world
improved — was always predominant. He did not see that the
Gospel, preached with simplicity, and brought home to the
heart by the Holy Spirit, is the only effectual means to that
end ; nor did he himself clearly perceive that love is the dis
tinguishing characteristic of the Gospel of Christ. Therefore
it was that, in his earnest longing for the conversion of the
wicked, he turned most frequently to the terrible scenes of
Scripture history as the best suited to his purpose. The flood,
the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, Pharaoh and his
hosts drowned in the Red Sea — these, and others similar, were
his favourite themes.
This application of Old Testament history and prophecy to
modern times was but a step to the belief that he himself, to
whom God had made known the interpretation, was invested
with the authority of a prophet. But in claiming to himself
this gift, Savonarola distinctly affirmed that it was "from God,
and God alone," as " God alone beholds future and contingent
things." He rejected, as Satanic, all arts of divination, and
especially astrology, against which he wrote a treatise. His
love for the Bible made him earnestly desire that all, both
clergy and laity, should study it; that it should have free
course and be glorified throughout the length and breadth of
the land. " People of Florence ! " he exclaimed in one of his
sermons, " give yourselves to the study of God's Word. The
first blessing is to understand it. Let us publicly confess this
truth. The Scriptures have been locked up. Their light has
been almost extinguished, set aside, left in the dust"
While God's judgments were undoubtedly the burthen of
Savonarola's preaching, other subjects were not altogether lost
sight of. One of the most remarkable passages to be found in
his writings occurs in his twenty-second sermon on the Book
of Job, in which he condemns, on the authority of the New
Testament, that system of Mariolatry so especially dear to
Italian Roman Catholics : — " You may," he says, " perhaps

The Bible Student. 69
inquire why, since the Virgin is in highest degree to be praised,
I so rarely preach about her ; and I first beg to ask you why
the Holy Spirit has, in so few instances, made mention of her
in the Scriptures, and why the primitive saints preached not,
or but little, about her ? And should you say that, in these
days, people are more devoted to her than were those primitive
saints and fathers, I should deem such an answer nothing to
the purpose, nor even credible : for we see that the Apostles,
who so much loved and honoured her, have made little or
no mention of her in their writings. How did this happen ?
The Apostles have not written about the Virgin, because our
salvation depends on faith in Christ, and they who were wholly
bent upon this point preached nothing but Christ. Besides, in
consequence of the great light they had from God, their views
were wholly fixed on Him, and not on the creature. Favoured
with that great light, the Apostles had no need to have recourse
to such a topic to excite people to faith : yet they did not the
less feel for her the greatest love and reverence. Besides, had
the Apostles recorded the praises of the Virgin, and dwelt on her
profound humility, her immense charity, and her other boundless
virtues, people would probably have read the Gospel of the
Virgin more than the Gospel of the acts of Christ, and would
have made a divinity of her, and have regarded her as such.
The devotion of people towards the Virgin is very great ; even
wicked men have a greater fear and dread of blaspheming her
than any other being, Since, then, the object of the Apostles
was to praise and exalt Christ, and to prove that He alone is
God, and that He, and He alone, is the Messiah who came to
save the world, I, like them, have attempted, as you well
know,"for many years to preach according to the Scripture ;
and since the Scripture makes little mention of the Virgin, it
has not been my habit to speak much of her."
Faith was not to Savonarola a vague, lifeless principle. His
definition of it is clear, and, in sermon after sermon, he stated
it. " In faith," he said, " everything depends on appropriation.

70 Savonarola.
Not only must we say, ' Thou art King, O God,' but ' Thou art
my God and my King ; my God whom I desire, and my God
in whom I trust.'" That great doctrine of the Reformation,
justification through faith in the righteousness of Christ, he
held fast. " Every confidence in ourselves," he declared, " is
false ; that confidence is just, and none other, which is based
on the sufficiency of Christ Jesus ; for His merit is boundless,
and of boundless power; its source is in the Godhead; it
comes from that might which abideth in Jesus without mea
sure." What marvellous light is here shining in darkness !
With the conviction ever present to his mind that a violent
death awaited him, and probably at no distant period, Savona
rola thus nerves himself and his hearers for the trial : — " Ask the
martyrs whether it was good for them to adhere unto God.
Had not their faith and constancy been sustained by His
grace, they could not have endured their inconceivable suffer
ings. This it was which rendered them proof against the nails,
the rack, the gridiron, and the flames. Since it proved thus
good for them to adhere unto God, it must be equally good for
you and for me." Then, in a strain of lofty exaltation, he
exclaims : — " Thou, Lord, art my Supreme Good, without ad
mixture of evil : Thou art my Joy without sorrow ; my Strength
without weakness ; my essential Truth without error ! Thou,
Lord, art my All in All ! Thou kindlest the affections into
love, and Thou canst purify all the powers of the mind and
heart. It is, therefore, good for me to draw nigh to God ; and
in the end of all things Thou, O God, wilt glorify the body as
well as the soul, by raising it up incorruptible and immortal,
spiritual and impassable. Yes, it is good to draw nigh to God,
and on Him to rest all our hopes — not on earthly possessions,
money, power, or worldly reputation — not on friends or rela
tives ; for, ' Cursed is the man that trusteth in man, and maketh
flesh his arm ; ' but, ' Blessed is the man that trusteth in the
Lord, and whose hope the Lord is.' "
The habit of those times to decide vexed questions of philo-

The Bible Student. Ji
sophy, not by the investigation of facts, but by isolated texts of
Scripture, or by a quotation from some old author, was sternly
opposed by Savonarola as the abuse of both time and Scrip
ture. " The doctors and preachers of the present day," he
complained, " whose duty it is to awaken the dead in sin to
newness of life, know not how to set about it. Instead of this
— their duty — they amuse their hearers with curious questions
and subtleties, or with fine similes and brilliant quotations from
Aristotle and Virgil, Ovid and Cicero, or from the beautiful
poems of Dante" or Petrarch, which, used for such a purpose,
are strains of death ; for, instead of reviving torpid souls, they
tend to lull the living into a deadly slumber." "O my God !"
he exclaimed, " what can equal the infatuation of those modern
teachers and theologians who thus attempt to explain the
great doctrines of salvation by authorities derived from pagan
authors ! Of them and of their teaching it may well be said :
' But Israel doth not know.' "
When we consider the dark days in which his lot was cast,
does not Savonarola's insight into spiritual things surprise us ?
Taking these words of Jeremiah for his text : " After those
days, saith the Lord, I will put my law in their inward parts,
and write it in their hearts," he applies them to illustrate the
transforming influence of the Gospel of Christ. " The latter
times," he says, " are those of the Messiah, who should com
municate the grace of His Spirit to His disciples." "And St.
Paul," he adds, " writes thus to the Corinthians, ' Ye are our
epistle, written in our hearts, known and read of all men.'
' Written,' he goes on to say, ' not with ink, but with the Spirit
of the living God ; not in tables of stone, but in fleshy tables of
the heart' And to the Romans he writes thus : — 'The law of
the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the
law of sin and death.' That is to say, the written law is the
law of life written on the heart, when it instrumentally imparts
life by uniting the soul to Jesus Christ in faith and love." "It
is well," he tells the Florentines, " to carry about this Gospel.

72 Savonarola.
I do not mean the written Gospel, though it is well for you to
carry this about reverently ; but if you possess not the grace
of the Holy Spirit, carry as many printed copies as you will
— nay, even all the four Gospels — they will avail you nothing."
" Still more deluded," he adds, " are they who carry about
their necks multitudes of texts by which they hope to be saved,
and think that, no matter how much evil they do, God is bound
to protect them on account of these charms. Deluded that
they are ! "
Savonarola had learned these things from God's Word. But
along with these, he held fast to others which the Scriptures had
not taught him. The Prior of San Marco was not a thorough
reformer ; to the last he was held in bondage by many Romish
errors. His belief in the doctrine of purgatory is evidenced
by his sermon preached upon the death of his friend, Prince
Pico, besides others of his writings. His belief in the efficacy of
prayers to departed saints was undoubted. Some have affirmed
of him that he had been heard to say that Christ, himself, had
ordered that His mother, the blessed Virgin Mary, should be
worshipped. If it be so, such a statement is strangely at vari
ance with his condemnation of Mariolatry already quoted, and
with the marked omission of the Virgin's name, with that of
her Divine Son, in the benediction with which he closes his
letters to various members of his family.
Inconsistencies in his views of truth ought not to surprise
us. And surely his love for the Lord Jesus Christ, his reve
rence for God's Word, his fervent desire to win souls for
Christ, stand out bright and clear, both in his writings and in
his every-day life. If he failed to attain to that fulness of the
measure of Christian truth to which Luther attained, and we
deny not that he did so fail, it must not be forgotten that he lived
before Luther, that his lot was cast in darker days, and in the
most iniquitous land, under the worst of popes. " Grace be
with all those who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity," are
words comprehensive enough to embrace Girolamo Savonarola.

CHAPTER VIII.
&eformatien in literature and &rt.

"If I do this, what further can I do?"
"Why, more than ever. Every task thou doest,
Brings strength and capability to act.
He who doth climb the difficult mountains,
Will, the next day, outstrip an idler man."
Barry Cornwall.

The fifteenth century, the last of the Middle Ages, was em
phatically an age of progress and transition. The capture
of Constantinople by the Turks (1453), so lamented as the sure
precursor of the downfall of Christianity, led to the revival of
literature, and thus proved a blessing in disguise. But while
this revival was most useful in helping on the Reformation, it
would have been powerless in itself to effect that grand move
ment For, in fact, the New Learning not seldom took the
form of a new heathenism within the Church. This was espe
cially its aspect in Italy — the most corrupt portion of Christen
dom—the land also which, for a long while, surpassed all
others in devotion to classical antiquity. That which was
ancient — in other words, heathenish — commanded the admira
tion of the Italian " humanists," as these were called, to the
exclusion of all else. And what followed ? While remaining
within the Church, they lived without God in the world : even
the semblance of Christianity they cast away ; heathenish in
their lives, they openly denied the immortality of the soul, the
judgment after death. It was easy to tell the source from
which they drew their inspiration. 6

74 Savonarola.
Savonarola saw the evil, and earnestly protested against it.
From his first corning to Florence he detected this impress of
paganism in everything. " Men of noblest minds," he says,
" openly avowed themselves infidels — by their manner of life,
their sentiments and actions — in their convents, as well as in
their schools." This state of things sorely troubled him, and
now, as Prior of San Marco, he set himself to work a thorough
reformation in every branch of literature. It was a gigantic
task, but, in firm reliance upon that Divine aid which he
believed could never fail him, he determined to act with the
authority which his office conferred on him.
But it is an injustice towards Savonarola to represent him as
an indiscriminate assailant of ancient literature. The conflict
upon which he now entered was not one between an ignorant
fanatic, on the one hand, and the march of intellect on the
other. He was, at least, as well acquainted with the classics
as any of his contemporaries. His desire was not to exclude
these from the schools, but to check that enthusiastic study of
them which, while promoting artistic and other material im-
< provements, led also to the corruption of Christian faith and
morals. Believing Holy Scripture to be the basis of all true
education, he, both publicly and in private, rebuked those
teachers who " poisoned the mind by exclusively directing
attention to the fables of Greek mythology and the heroes
of ancient Republics, while Scripture was kept in the back
ground." To counteract this evil, he suppressed some "pri
vate but corrupting books." "Why?" he indignantly asked —
"Why should Livy and Thucydides, who only wrote the
history of the past, h% allowed to occupy the whole atten
tion of students, while Jewish historians of the Old Testament,
who, along with the history of the past, combined the figura
tive history of the future, are totally neglected ?"
Savonarola's vivid imagination, which led him to perceive a
spiritual meaning in everything, gave him a peculiar facility in
teaching, whether in quiet, familiar talk with a friend, or when

Reformation in Literature and Art. 75
occupying the pulpit or the professor's chair ; and now, while
exhorting Florence to beware of intellectual idolatry, he
brought passage after passage of Scripture to strengthen and
enforce the prohibition. The command to Isaac not to take
a wife from the daughters of Canaan, he regarded as a
prophetic warning to Christians not to seek truth in heathen
writings. The Jews, who loathed manna in the wilderness,
and sighed for the fleshpots of Egypt, taught, he said, the same
lesson, inasmuch as they prefigured those who, having God's
Word at their command, neglected it for the study of pagan
philosophy. The study of Scripture, both the Old Testament
and the New, was the ruling passion of his life ; and when
he recommended it to others his words came home with power
to the hearts of many, and, in some cases, proved a savour
of blessing. "Believe," he said, "believe in the all-sufficiency
of the Word, and in the wisdom of Christ, who has left you
His precepts so clearly expressed that no human wisdom is
required to explain them. It has been said that logic and
philosophy confirm the soul in faith, as if the superior light
needed to borrow lustre from the inferior." . . . "Go into all
the schools of Florence ; you will find professors paid to teach
logic and philosophy, and instructors for all the Arts and
Sciences, but not one to undertake the teaching of Holy Scrip
ture." . . . "Dost thou not perceive, vain philosopher," he asks,
"that in resting faith on the profane sciences, thou degradest
it ? Call to mind David going against Goliath ; lay aside the
weighty armour of profane study, and arm thyself, after the
example of apostles and martyrs, with a lively and simple faith."
. . . "Oh, Florence !" exclaimed the impassioned preacher, at
the close of one of his sermons, " deal with me as thou wilt.
I have mounted the pulpit this day to tell thee that thou wilt
not destroy my work, because it is the work of Christ. Whether
I live or die, the seed I have sown will not the less bear fruit.
If my enemies are powerful enough to drive me from thy walls,
I shall not be grieved ; I shall find some desert where I can

j6 Savonarola.
take refuge with my Bible, and enjoy repose which thy citizens
shall not be able to disturb."
The evil effect of the exclusive cultivation of classical litera
ture pervaded all branches of education. In the study of Art,
pagan models were set forth as the standard of excellence,.
instead of those which had been, as the faithful believed,
executed under direct inspiration ; and, what was even far more
degraded and degrading, the most objectionable characters were
often selected by artists for their models. Consequently, their
works were sensibly deteriorated. " Madonnas, Magdalens,
and saints were picked up " anywhere, and, by the transforming
power of paint, they became "holy, humble women, even
saints in glory." The injury to those called upon to worship
before such pictures can be imagined. Savonarola shuddered
at the thought. It had not been always thus. " We painters,'r
wrote a pupil of Giotto, " occupy ourselves in tracing saints on
the walls and altars, in order that, by this means, many may, to
the great despite of the demons, be drawn to virtue and piety."
In carrying out this reformation, Savonarola, impressed by
the conviction that "extreme danger justifies extreme measures,"
required newly-converted parents, as a first pledge of their
fidelity, to part with every object which could, even in a remote
degree, be conceived impure. He reminded them that Aristotle
had, by the light of pagan philosophy alone, discerned the
danger of allowing the eye to become familiar with such
objects. But he knew well that the putting away of impure-
things did not necessarily result in any purifying of the heart
—that the cure must be wrought within ; for, out of the heart
proceed all manner of evil. Therefore with all the energy of
his soul, he exhorted his hearers to strive after inward purity,
that, the fountain being cleansed, the streams which flowed
from it might be pure also. As might have been expected,
fierce opposition followed these efforts. Priests there were who-
even refused absolution to those who attended the Prior's lec
tures. Their hostility was known to him; but though he did not

Reformation in Literature and Art. JJ
count upon much fruit of his work and labour of love in his
own day, he hoped for much from those who were yet children.
His simple, loving heart delighted in children — "the innocent
and cherished portion of his flock." Earnestly did he entreat
these to remember his words; not to let them slip away un
heeded, but to see that they bore fruit when he himself should
be no more. Sometimes he reminded them that in their
hands might yet be placed the government and guidance of
their country, the education of a generation yet unborn. Then,
turning to mothers, he would exhort them to watch over their
children as mothers only could watch ; while he warned fathers
that it was their duty to provide the best education for their
sons; not to neglect the study of Horace, and Virgil, and
Cicero, but to place, also, in their hands the best books of
St. Jerome and St. Augustine, " in order that youth might not
receive a lesson of paganism without, at the same time, acquiring
a knowledge of Christianity ,*and be thus simultaneously taught
eloquence and truth."
Martin Luther was intensely fond of music. He used to
say, " He who despises music, as all fanatics do, will never be
my friend." His hymns did the Reformation-cause good
service ; these penetrated where his sermons and other printed
works could not gain entrance. " The whole people," wrote a
Romanist of that day, " is singing itself into this Lutheran
doctrine." Music and poetry have, undoubtedly, in all ages
exerted a secret and invincible power over the human heart,
whether for good or for evil. Chrysostom, in one of his works,
exhorts " all men and women, and little children, to sing
the Psalms of David as a means of associating themselves
with the company of angels."
Lorenzo de Medici did more than any of his contemporaries
to corrupt Florence through the medium of music. His ballads,
composed expressly to be sung at masquerades during the
Carnival, were so abominable, that no one would now dare to
sing them in the public streets ; and yet, so depraved was the

78 Savonarola.
taste, so low the standard of public opinion in that miscalled
" Golden Age," that men ventured to say that the " Divina
Commedia" of Dante was inferior to the "Canti Car-
nascialeschi" of Lorenzo de Medici!
To check this torrent of evil, Savonarola proposed to restore
to- the Church those simple, expressive chants bequeathed to
her from time immemorial, such as the " Veni Creator ; " while,
to allure the people from Lorenzo's rhymes and ballads, he
gave them sacred songs composed by himself, and adapted to
popular music. Well aware of the difficulty of the task he had
undertaken, he trained choirs of children to sing " the sweet
melodies which, as a perfume, had been bequeathed by their
pious ancestors," thus hoping to win their listeners into the
right way. He was at first fiercely opposed, but undaunted,
he pursued his way, neither turning to the right hand nor to
the left. His hope of future blessing as the fruit of his labour,
sustained him under the many trials which beset his path.
And he was not disappointed in his hope. Success, beyond
his most sanguine expectations, was granted him ; success,
which seemed to his grateful heart as " a miracle of Divine
mercy, almost an anticipation of heavenly reward." Perhaps
there was nothing in which his marvellous influence was more
perceptible than in the change of public opinion upon this
subject of Art and other branches of education. AVith children
Savonarola could do almost anything. He used to say that " a
child protected from sin until of age to exercise self-judgment,
acquires so great a purity of mind and heart that the angels of
heaven delight to converse with him."
Under his gentle sway, Florentine children, heretofore
so bold and rough, yielded to his every wish, attended his
sermons, joined heart and soul with him in devotional
exercises, chanting hymns of praise to God, and singing those
pure, sacred songs which were yet, their teacher fondly hoped,
to bring back an older generation into the paths of peace and
holiness.

CHAPTER IX.
Charles the Eighth Invades Italy.

Treason doth never prosper, what's the reason?
Why, if it prosper, none dare call it treason.
Sir John Harrington.
/^~*harles vm. of France, having recently made peace with
^-' England, Austria, and Spain, now accepted the invitation
of Ludovico il Moro, Duke of Milan, to invade Italy, and
assert his claim to the crown of Naples. This claim on the
part of Charles had been the subject of political discussion
for ten previous years, and, if not settled by negociation, was
sure to result in war.
Childish in character, Charles looked forward to this expe
dition as "a sort of chivalrous pleasure-jaunt on a large scale."
Nothing was talked of at the French court but the wealth of
the Italian provinces — wealth which would, no doubt, fall to
the victorious French ; while the Pope would not fail to bestow
rich benefices upon those whose arms heaven had blessed. So,
with joyful heart, Charles started for the Castle of Montils, near
Tours, and proceeded to Lyons. There, however, he paused
to amuse himself; and soon all the money — and it was but
little — he had collected for the war, was spent, and he had no
resource left but to borrow from wealthy bankers.
This alacrity on the part of Charles was more than II Moro
had expected or desired, and he began to doubt the wisdom of
the step he had taken. From more than one quarter he had

8o Savonarola.
been warned not to invite Charles to enter Italy. Henry vn.
of England wrote an earnest letter, setting forth the danger of
forming an alliance with a power whose "lust for extending
their sway, and conquering the dominions of others, was too
manifest to need demonstration." But Ludovico was deaf to
warning and remonstrance, and now regret was unavailing ; he
could not retrace his steps.
Strange to say, while Italy — the country to be invaded —
encouraged the invader, France, — the king and his court
excepted,— was, from the first, against the enterprise. Never
theless, Charles crossed the Alps, and entered Turin on the
5th of September, with an army such as Italy had never before
seen — a splendid infantry, " thirty-six cannons upon carriages,
each carriage having four wheels" (a new thing in those days) ;
while hundreds of gallant cavaliers, supplied by the nobility of
France and Scotland, swelled the ranks.
As rumour after rumour preceded the invaders, Charles was
compared by some to Charlemagne, by others to Cyrus ; and
this state of public excitement rose almost to frenzy under the
amazing influence — both in and out of the pulpit — of the Prior
of San Marco, who, during the next four years, occupied the
foremost place in Florentine history.
In truth, Savonarola was the only man who could control the
passions of the people. A loud " Amen" was their response to
whatever he uttered in those days, when he held the reins and
turned the people which way he pleased. His own enthusiasm
— so hot, so fervent — was shared by all who came within the
magic circle of his influence ; what he said, they firmly
believed, so marvellous was his power. On each successive
saint's day, Savonarola preached from the pulpit of the Duomo.
Noah, building the Ark, was his subject — an ark to be composed,
" not of gopher wood, but of those virtues, the absence of which
had brought Florence to her present degraded condition."
Sermon after sermon, the preacher, plank by plank, built up
the Ark, in which such as should be saved were to find refuge,

Charles the Eighth Invades Italy. 81
The flood he had foretold long before at Brescia, was, he
•declared, now about to burst upon the ungodly.
What the nature of the coming judgment was to be, the
preacher did not as yet indicate ; and as each sermon closed
without the wished-for — and yet sorely-dreaded — details, ex
citement rose to almost frenzy. Savonarola tells us that he
felt as if held back by some superior power from defining what
should be the character of the flood which he foretold. Day
by day the people, by hundreds and thousands, flocked to the
Duomo to learn this, and went away disappointed. Many
•coming in from the country had to travel all night, and
when morning dawned were found at the city gates waiting
for admission.
Was Florence prepared for war ? No, she was not. The
Medicean rule had rendered her essentially unwarlike, and as
reports reached the city, representing the invaders as " infinite
in numbers and of gigantic stature," her heart died within her ;
for were not these reports as a running commentary upon those
strange sermons to which, for months past, she had been listen
ing ? The flood of waters ! Was it not fit emblem of avenging
wrath and purifying mercy ? and as such, the divinely indicated
symbol of the French army— that scourge, whose coming Savo
narola had proclaimed years before. Behold its fulfilment at
the door ! Thus reasoned, not the wild enthusiast alone, but
learned and cultivated men, the deepest thinkers in Florence
— the most intellectual of Italian cities. For the preacher's
firm belief in his divine mission had cast its spell upon his
hearers ; it was to them, as to himself, a great reality, and they
awaited, with shuddering awe, the fulfilment of his prophecy —
the flood about to descend upon the guilty land and yet more
guilty Church.
The arrival of Charles at Turin was not known in Florence
until the 21st of September. That day was a memorable day,
both for Savonarola and his audience in the Duomo, which
was even more densely crowded than usual. Such was the

82 Savonarola.
anxiety to hear him, that every place was occupied for hours
before service began. At last the great orator appeared. All
was silence and attention as he ascended the pulpit. With a
calm gaze he looked around, and marked the ill-concealed
trepidation which pervaded the vast multitude. After a
moment's silence, suddenly, and with a loud voice, he cried,
" Behold ! I will bring the waters over the earth." That
announcement was as a thunder-clap, filling every heart with
terror. Prince Pico, who was in the church at the time, said
afterwards that, as he listened, a shudder ran through his
entire frame, and the hair of his head stood on end. Savo
narola tells us that he, himself, was not less moved than his
hearers. In their terror the people pressed towards the pulpit,
as if to implore protection from him whose words had so ap
palled them. All his prophetic utterances had hitherto proved
true — the princes whose death he had foretold, had all three
descended into the grave — and now the avenging sword he
had foreseen was already at the gate. And not only in
Florence, but all throughout Italy, every eye turned to Savo
narola for help and counsel, and thus the party by whom he
was supported became, as by a stroke of magic, masters of
the city.
There were three political factions in Florence — the Piag-
noni (weepers) — fast friends of Savonarola and zealous advo
cates for liberty — were the most powerful. United, as one
man, to procure the restoration of the Republic, and stern
opposers of the popular vices, they exercised a powerful in
fluence during the remaining history of the Florentine Com
monwealth. These Piagnoni were easily recognised ; their
dress peculiar, their manners stern, they advocated the
strictest discipline, as their name indeed implied. Day after
day, their sombre processions deepened the gloom of the city.
The weapons of their warfare were spiritual — prayer, and the
sermons of their leader, Savonarola.
The Arrabbiati, or "the frantic," formed the second

Charles the Eighth Invades Italy. 83
party. These were aristocrats, and indulged in the most
abominable vices. Their aim was to establish an oligarchy,
and they were equally hostile to the Medici and to Savonarola
and his followers. Their hatred of the latter was the more
bitter, because of their strict standard of morals and their
democratic views.
The Medici and their friends — called the "Bigi," or grey
— formed the third and weakest party. Of these three
factions, the first and third generally united in opposing the
second, while this latter party dreaded the first more than
the third.
By slow and sure degrees, Charles reached Rome ; and as
intelligence of cruelties perpetrated by his troops preceded
him, Italy awoke to a sense of danger. With a " fool " at her
head, Florence had good cause to tremble, and many cherished
the hope that the days of Pietro, as Lord of Florence, were
drawing to a close. These hopes soon gave birth to schemes
by which to drive him from Florence, as the increasing neces
sity for wise and energetic measures brought out to view his
utter incapacity for government. Though fierce and cruel by
nature, he was unable to take a grave view of any subject.
Even in those days of extremest danger to Florence and to
himself, he was often seen playing at ball in the streets !
This playing at ball, however, came to an end when news
reached the city that " the terrible Frenchmen," and yet more
" terrible Swiss," were at her very gates. The pent-up wrath
of months past burst forth fiercely against the incapable ruler,
who now, at length, saw the peril which threatened him from
without, and the greater peril of an exasperated populace
within the city. Trembling and panic-stricken, Pietro looked
this way and that for shelter from the coming storm, but could
see none ; and, seized by a judicial folly, he took that fatal step
which to the full revealed the extent of his incapacity.
What was this step ? and what suggested it to the mind of
the " fool " ? He remembered that when his father, Lorenzo,

84 Savonarola.
was at war with Naples in 1491, he obtained access to King
Ferdinand, and thus obtained peace for Florence and security
for himself. Pietro thinks he cannot do better than follow his
father's example, and gain an audience from Charles. So,
without delay he, accompanied by a few friends, rode to Sar-
zano, where Charles had halted. He there asked for a safe
conduct, which was readily granted ; and then, at once, waited
on the king.
Charles was prepared with his demands ; and Pietro, fright
ened to death, granted them. Pisa and Leghorn were ceded
without one word of remonstrance. Well satisfied with him
self, the traitor returned to Florence, having made up his mind
to offer, as apology for his baseness, the declaration of the
French king, that, " upon no other terms than those named
and accepted, would he promise that his troops should traverse
Tuscany, not as foes, but as friends."
But, did Pietro think this apology would be accepted?
What ! if he were questioned concerning the terms upon which
he had made so great a sacrifice ? Were they honourable ?
such as Florence would be justified in accepting, in those days
of her decline, truly, but not, as yet, of her degradation ?
These were weighty questions ; but they signified little to him,
who thought only of his own personal safety and relief from
present terror.
It was on the 8th of November that Pietro arrived at the
Palazzo Pubblico, to give an account of his negociation. On
his way thither, he became, in some degree, aware of the tone
of public opinion towards himself. During his absence dis
content against his government had risen to a fearful height.
To have left the city in her extremity was an act which nothing
could justify. Not one of his friends had a word to say in his
defence ; while the majority of the citizens openly declared
that, if despotic rule had been barely tolerable under Lorenzo
the Magnificent, it was utterly zVztolerable under Pietro the
" Fool ! " And now, some of the leading men changed sides,

Charles the Eighth Invades Italy. 85
and, from having been "creatures of the Medici," became
bitter foes to him who bore that name. It was but a few days
previous to Pietro's return to Florence that Luca Corsini,
during a discussion upon the state of the city — nominally a
free Commonwealth, but really the victim of despotic tyranny
— started to his feet, rushed "furiously," says Guicciardini,
to the great bell in the Piazza, that " jealously guarded bell-
rope," which could in a moment send dismay, insurrection,
and revolution, booming over the city. So it did then ; in a
few moments the Piazza was filled with multitudes excited to
frenzy, ready to restore liberty to Florence at any cost. Had
Pietro heard of that day ?
Making his way now through the excited crowd, he reached
the Palazzo. The Signory heard his tale of duplicity in silence.
To that august body the details did not appear to call for
thanks, and they thanked him not. Pietro left their presence,
ill at ease in his own mind, and with anxious forebodings
respecting the future. The following morning he summoned
five hundred horsemen to his aid. But the day had gone by
when troops could command quietness in Florence. Every
member of the Signory declared hostility to the " fool," while
the infuriated citizens thirsted for his blood. Baffled in every
attempt to arrest the leading malcontents, Pietro, escorted by
his mounted body-guard, rode to the great gates of the Palazzo,
where the Signory were assembled. Finding them closed and
barred, he commanded them to be opened. But this order
was not the " Open, Sesame " of past days. No authority
invested the Medici name — once "the crushing heel of all
opposition." Friends of the father had become enemies of the
son ; and now, while some of the Signory kept watch behind
the doors lest they should be forced from without, Pietro was
informed that there was no admission for him; unless he
" pleased to enter alone by the postern," the great gates would
not open to him — no, never. Thinking discretion to be the part
best suited to him at that moment, Pietro returned to the city.

86 Savonarola.
Scarcely had he reached it, when he heard the startling
intelligence that the Signory had, to a man, declared him " a
rebel and an outlaw." In despair he mounted his horse, and
passing through the San Gallo gate, while cries of " Popolo,"
" Liberta," rent the air, galloped away to Bologna. His
brother Giovanni, then Cardinal of Nemours — afterwards
Leo x.— the most popular of Lorenzo's sons, unwilling to
believe that all was lost, addressed the people from the street,
amidst a shower of stones flung from the windows and tops of
the houses. But all efforts to stem the torrent were unavail
ing, and Giovanni was glad to follow his brother to Bologna.

CHAPTER X.
$.n titnureko-me ^uest.

"And there was mounting in hot haste,
Or whispering with white lips —
' The foe ! they come ! they come ! ' "
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage.

Savonarola was not in Florence at the moment of Pietro's
flight : he had been sent some days previously to Pisa to
learn the intentions of Charles respecting Florence. Before
he left the city he preached in the Duomo, and closed his
sermon with these words of encouragement and of warning : —
" The Lord has heard your prayers ; He has caused a great
revolution to end peaceably. He, alone, has come to the help
of the city, then abandoned by all other helpers. Watch, and
you will see the disasters which will befal other cities. Per
severe then, oh people of Florence ! in good works and in
peace. If you wish the Lord to persevere in His mercy
towards yourselves, be merciful to your enemies ; unless you
are so, the chastisements, now preparing for the rest of Italy,
will fall upon you. The Lord saith unto you, 'I will have
mercy !' Woe to those who disobey the command." After
the sermon, Savonarola set out for Pisa on foot — his usual
mode of travelling.
The ambassadors sent forward to accompany him into the
presence of Charles, reached Pisa the day before he did.
Admitted into the Royal presence — the)', in the name of the
Republic, informed Charles that Florence would treat him as

8 Savonarola.
a friend if he would so treat her. An evasive reply was
returned ; the king declined to bind himself to any line of
conduct, and refused to sign the treaty presented to him.
The ambassadors having failed, Savonarola, alone, waited
upon Charles. Clothed in the garb of Prior of San Marco, and
with the open Gospels in his hand, he made his way through
lines of armed men. The king, surrounded by his generals,
received him courteously, and Savonarola, pointing to the
Book he held, said, in a voice of calm authority — " Great
King, thou minister of Divine justice, the mercy of God has
long borne with the grievous sins of Italy, graciously waiting
for her repentance. Despite the most sacred obligations, she
has lifted up her meretricious and adamantine face till, at
length, the hour of Divine vengeance is at hand. To His
unworthy servant now before thee, He revealed, more than
five years ago, His purpose of reforming the Church by means
of severe chastisement. From that time to this, that servant
has never ceased urgently to call the people to repentance.
Men of all classes will affirm this assertion. Few believed the
words spoken, while multitudes derided them. At length,
thou art come, O King ! as the minister of God — the minister
of justice : may thine arrival prove to us altogether propitious !
But, most gracious King, give ear to my words and apply them
to thy heart. The unworthy servant of God, to whom these
things have been revealed by the Holy Spirit, admonishes
thee that, after His example, thou must in all things incline to
mercy, but, most of all, towards the city of Florence which,
although it labours under a heavy load of trangression, con
tains many true servants of God of both sexes. For their sake
thou must preserve the city, that we may with a more quiet
mind pray for thee, and render God propitious to thee in this
expedition. Therefore, O King ! be warned to defend the
innocent, the widows and orphans, and all who need and
deserve mercy ; but most of all that thou protect those devoted
to Christ in nunneries, lest, through thee, sin should super-

An Unwelcome Guest. 89
abound, and the strength granted to thee from on high be
turned into weakness."
The character of Charles (as drawn by Guicciardini) was
not calculated to encourage Savonarola to expect much atten
tion from him : " Rash, unstable, uncultivated in mind ; young
and good-natured, but one who never thought of the conse
quences likely to result from any step, however unwise, he
chose to take, still less did he regard a promise, whether vo
luntarily given, or extorted from him." And yet the Prior of
San Marco did indulge the hope that his words had made
an impression on one "unstable as water." Accustomed to
influence large masses of people, — so that they saw with his
eyes, heard with his ears, believed what he believed, — could
Savonarola doubt his power now ?
But his words fell unheeded on the dull ear of the French
king. Equally unsuccessful as his brother-ambassadors had
been, no entreaty could prevail to induce Charles to sign a
treaty promising security to Florence. All he would engage
to do was, to " arrange everything when he reached the great
city." This was not much to reckon upon; yet Savonarola
returned to Florence not without hope that good would result
from his mission. He reflected with satisfaction upon the
astonishment with which Charles had heard himself designated,
" the Rod of God ;" and having left Pisa immediately after the
royal interview, he was not aware that astonishment had given
place to indifference, in the mind of the king.
At last, on Sunday, November 17 th, Florence threw open
her gates for Charles to enter as " a friend." His entry was
on a scale of magnificence such as that city had never before
witnessed. And yet, many a French cavalier felt ill at ease
amidst the splendour of which he formed a part. The
Florentines too, dearly as they loved a show, would have
enjoyed such a spectacle, as the present, more in any other
city than Florence — the " well-beloved." As they gathered at
the corners of the streets, and with anxious eye watched the
7

90 Savonarola.
Frenchmen passing through them, mutterings, here and there,
were heard which boded no good to the strangers should the
populace gain the upper hand.
And yet, marvellous to relate, the arrival of Charles and his
hosts took place without any breach of the peace. The king,
himself, was extremely courteous in manner. When two of the
Signory were taking their places — one at each side of his horse,
thus to lead him through the city, according to the etiquette
of those days, Charles declined the honour. Some hinted that
fear to trust himself to those of whom he knew nothing,
prompted the refusal. And in truth danger, though unseen,
surrounded the king and his army. Large bodies of armed men
lay hidden in the churches and monasteries, ready to rush out
at the slightest provocation.
It is not easy to account for the want of caution on the part
of Charles, in marching with his army through a city trained
in all the intricacies of street-warfare — a city too, whose citizens
he feared even more than they feared him. Such temerity was
probably owing to the prevailing belief that he and his army
were acting under the immediate guidance of God, who having
hitherto prospered their arms would assuredly continue to
do so.
Passing over the Ponte Vecchio, Charles reached the Duomo,
where he paused to attend Divine service. Then, remounting,
he soon reached the Palace of the Medici, where magnificent
preparations had been made to receive him. Dazzled by
splendour such as their eyes had never before gazed on, the
invaders felt, more keenly than they cared to express, the
contrast between the civilization of Italian life and the com
parative dullness and poverty of " La belle France."
But now, a report spread through Florence that Pietro, the
detested tyrant, was at the gates ready to rush in, followed by
a host of armed men. Instantly, the great alarm-bell was
heard all over the city, calling warriors to spring out of the
very earth, as it were ; while the streets swarmed with citizens,

An Unwelcome Guest. 9 1
and barricades were erected as if by magic. On that day the
Frenchmen had their first experience of city barricades — their
first, but not their last ! The rumour, however, which gave
rise to this excitement was false, but the effect it produced did
good rather than harm, by showing the strangers something of
the temper of Florence when necessity called it forth.
Angry discussion was going on at the same time between
Charles and the Signory. First of all, he demanded for him
self large sums of money in consideration of his poverty ; as
if it were reasonable that Italy should defray the costs of her
own invasion. Then, he desired the recall of Pietro, and his
re-instalment as first citizen of Florence — notwithstanding his
late treachery. For himself, he claimed the sovereignty of
¦the city, and the establishment within her walls of a body of
men to represent himself and govern in his name. Charles
made these demands upon the ground that " a conqueror has
3. right to make what terms he pleases with a conquered people."
Which assertion, assuming as it did that Florence had been
conquered, was received by the Signory with a burst of
indignation. It was no new thing for Florence to free herself from unwel
come intruders by the payment of money, and now, the large
sums asked by Charles were freely promised. But the
Florentine Commissioners thought it prudent at the same time
to draw up a paper containing the terms upon which they
•engaged to fulfil that promise. This paper, however, did not
meet his approval, and a fresh agreement, framed by his
Majesty's advisers, was laid before the Commissioners. This
¦document, containing the king's ultimatum expressed in most
offensive language, put forth demands too exorbitant to be
debated even for a moment. Stung to the quick, the Com
missioners ventured to remonstrate; but Charles, interrupting
them, exclaimed that, if his terms were not accepted, he should
order his trumpets to sound. At these words Capponi, one
•of the deputies, formerly ambassador at the court of France,

92 Savonarola.
flamed with rage. Starting to his feet, he seized the obnoxious
paper from the hand of the secretary, and tearing it in pieces
cried out — " Sound you your trumpets, and we will ring our
bells !" — proud words which have become immortal ! Wonderful
was the effect they produced. The Assembly, struck dumb
with astonishment, remained silent for a moment. Capponi
was leaving the room when he was recalled by the king. His
Majesty did not like that threat about the ringing of bells,
he had not forgotten the effect produced in the city by the
ringing of One Bell, and hastened to take off the hard edge of
his words, saying with a smile, " Ah, Capon ! Capon ! you are
a wicked Capon !''
At length the terms of agreement were arranged. We shall
not enter into their details, but merely state that they were
signed by the contracting parties, in the Duomo of Florence, on
the 26th of November. Fifty thousand ducats were imme
diately paid into the king's treasury ; and he, on his part,
promised that within two days he would leave the city and
proceed on his way to Rome.

CHAPTER XI.
The SVpular Treacher and f olitical Jldviser,

"A noble aim,
Faithfully kept," is as a noble deed,
In whose pure light all virtue doth succeed."

The King of France has enjoyed his luxurious quarters in
Florence too thoroughly to be in any hurry to pursue
his way across the Apennines in the depth of winter, and the
Florentines begin to see the mistake they made in giving him
so cordial a reception. All classes long for his departure.
Indeed, ever since his arrival a feeling of suspicion and inse
curity has been abroad. Shops have been closed, business
suspended, for the French soldiers, billeted upon private
houses, were for ever getting into collision with the towns
people. It was impossible that this state of things could con
tinue ; and yet day after day slipped by, and Charles showed
no signs of departing. So, once again, as a' forlorn hope, the
Signory requested Savonarola to ask audience of the king,
and entreat him to leave their city. He obeyed without a
moment's hesitation. Making his way through guards of
soldiers, he addressed Charles in the lofty style of one who
believed he had a message to him direct from God. " Most
Christian prince," said the Prior of San Marco, "thy delay
here is causing serious mischief to the city and the enterprise
in which thou art engaged. Thou art losing thy time, forgetful
of the task imposed on thee by Providence, to the grave
detriment both of thy spiritual welfare and thy worldly glory.

94 Savonarola.
Listen now to the words of the servant of God : go on thy
way without further delay. Take care thou dost not bring
ruin on this city, and the anger of the Lord on thyself." Long
afterwards, when alluding to this interview with Charles,
Savonarola said, and said truly, — " I spoke to the king as not
one of you would have dared to speak, and by the grace of
God he was appeased. I said things which you yourselves
would not have endured, and he heard them patiently."
Charles left Florence — two days after the Prior's visit — at
three o'clock in the afternoon. The joy at his departure was
unbounded. Multitudes crowded the churches to thank God
from the very depths of their hearts for the removal of that
scourge which, whether for good or evil, had sorely chastened
them. Florence was now her own mistress, and the necessity for
constructing a form of government, lest she should destroy
herself, when every man felt himself at liberty to do as he
pleased, became imperative. Now, again, all turned to
Savonarola for guidance. He who had saved the city from
being deluged with blood after Pietro's flight ; he who had
sent away Charles and his detested soldiers ; he, the inspired
orator, and he alone, could steer the barque of the State into
safety. Reading these thoughts in the troubled looks of his
audience in the Duomo, Savonarola, with permission of the
Signory, preached a course of sermons upon the form of
government suited to the present emergency. " This he did,"
says an old chronicler, " without the presence of women and
children, who, to very little purpose, often occupy places which
should be filled by a more learned audience."
Having stated the leading arguments in favour both of
monarchical and popular government, the preacher earnestly
recommended the latter as best suited to the character of the
Florentines, and most in accordance with the cherished tradi
tions of the Republic. But, naturally, the aristocratic party
hesitated to trust the fortunes of the city to a government

The Popular Preacher and Political Adviser. 95
popular on the broadest possible basis, as that the Prior
recommended. Yet, to oppose his will, even had it not been
backed by that of the people, would have been fraught with
peril. Into the political debates and tumults of that period we
cannot enter. Savonarola never wavered in his conviction
that "the only form of government adapted to Florence-'
was "a civil and general one." "Woe be to thee, Florence !"
he exclaimed from the pulpit, " if thou place at thy head one
who can rule supremely over thee ; with chiefs such as these,
cities must be ruined by all possible evils. Tyrant is the name
of one who leads a wicked life ; more wicked than all others
is the usurper of others' rights — the destroyer of his own soul
and of the souls of the people. Therefore, the first law
you should make is this — that no one man shall ever have a
right to place himself at the head of your city ; otherwise you
will build upon a bed of sand. Such men seek to rise above
others, and know not how to maintain civil equality; they are
the worst of all."
"O my people!" continued the impassioned orator, "you
know that I have never willingly meddled with the affairs of
- State, and do you believe I should do so now were it not that
I see a necessity for me to look into them to the saving of
your souls? You are not willing to believe it, but you have
seen that my words have come true — that they did not proceed
from my own will, but came from God. Listen, then, to one
who is seeking only your salvation. Pacify your minds, attend
to the common good, forget your private interest, and if by
such a course you reform your city, it will be rendered more
glorious than it has ever yet been. Thus you will commence
the reform of Italy, and spreading your wings over the world,
bring about the reformation of all nations. Remember, that
the Lord has given clear signs that He desires a renovation of
all things, and that you are the people selected to begin the
good work. But you must obey the commands of Him who

g6 Savonarola.
calls^and invites you to turn to a spiritual life." " Open, O
Lord ! " exclaimed the preacher, as he closed his address ;
" open, O Lord, the hearts of this people, that they may know
the things that are in me ; things which Thou hast revealed
and communicated to me."
While placing things spiritual in the foreground, Savonarola
did not lose sight of practical duties. " Cease from strife,
love as brethren," he often implored his audience, and recom
mended that " public prayers should be offered up to the God
of peace and holiness." All practical matters connected with
the State passed in review before him. One and all needed
reformation, and wherever he detected error, he unsparingly
condemned it. Respecting taxation, his desire was, " to levy
taxes solely on property, and thus put an end to loans and all
arbitrary imposts." This was his advice to magistrates ; then,
addressing the people, he implored them to be stedfast in
loving and rendering assistance to their fellow-citizens. "A
son," he said, " is under such obligations to his father that he
never can do enough for him. So I say to you, your country
is your common father, and, therefore, you are bound, every
one of you, to help it ; and were any of you to say, ' I have
gained no benefit from it,' you would speak ignorantly."
These discourses made such an impression upon the
Signory, that they frequently consulted the preacher both in
San Marco and in the Palazzo. From this time he was known
in Florence as " II Frate," and men of all classes bowed to his
authority. So great was his popularity, that many of the best
shops in Florence remained closed until after his morning
sermon. The true character of a man is best discerned in
times of trouble. Savonarola, thus tested, was not found
wanting. No self-seeking on the one hand, no fear on the
other, tempted him to swerve from the path into which conscience
directed him. Uprightness of heart and conduct, self-devo
tion — which springs from self-forgetfulness — these were points
in the character of " II Frate" which could not be assailed.

The Popular Preacher and Political Adviser. 97
But, in common with his contemporaries, he was ignorant of
the fundamental principles of civil liberty, and of the means by
which alone it can be secured. His life, previous to, and since
he had become a monk, was not calculated to give him much
insight into such matters. And now, that the position into
which his prophetic power, even more than his burning
eloquence, had brought him, demanded a knowledge of active,
practical life, and some experience, too, in the details of civil
government, he was not equal to the post. We cannot
attempt to enter into either the cause or the extent of his
failure as a political guide and ruler. This much is evident,
that " he unwittingly so used the power which his own ability
and the circumstances of the times had placed in his hands, as
¦eventually to frustrate his own objects, and bring dishonour
upon the cause dearest to his heart."
Let it not, however, be forgotten, when his failures are
remembered, that up to this period of his history, Savonarola's
influence had been exclusively for good. Hatred against
tyranny, vice, and oppression, combined with love for all man
kind, which burned so steadily in his own breast, had kindled
a corresponding flame in many who came within the circle of
his influence.
Hitherto, Savonarola had been so occupied by public
preaching and private study of Scripture that, except in con
nection with religion, he had not meddled with politics. But
now at the end of this year (1494), his sermons began to be
avowedly and directly political. Not that they ceased to bear
upon the subject of religion ; that, they never did. Never did
Savonarola cease to enforce the necessity for general and indi
vidual reformation of life, as essential to the establishment of
a durable form of government.
It would appear from some passages in his writings that, at
this period of his history, he had occasional misgivings as to
the consistency of mingling in the turmoil and strife of political
life, and, especially, of entering on that subject in the pulpit.

98 Savonarola.
However, he soon satisfied himself that in this he was but
" yielding to the manifest will of God." " I have spoken to
God," he says, " in my own language ; I have said, Lord, I
confess that Thou art just, good, almighty, and that Thou art
my God : that Thou hast created me out of nothing, who am
but dust and ashes, yet will I speak to Thee with confidence,
for Thou hast been crucified for me. Pardon me if I am too
familiar in my speech : Thou, Lord, who directest all things
well ; Thou hast deceived me ; Thou hast betrayed me, worse
than man was ever betrayed. For though I have prayed, long.
time, that Thou wouldst grant me such grace, that I might
never be compelled to the government of others ; Thou hast
made me just the reverse ; Thou hast drawn me, little by little,
into the snare ; if I had seen the snare, perhaps I had not been
what I am. I have done as the moth, which desires the light ;
when it sees the candle burning, not knowing that it burns, it
singes its wings. Thou hast shown me Thy light, in which I
rejoice greatly, and having told me, that it was well to make
manifest that light for the salvation of men's souls, I have
plunged into the fire, and burned the wings of contemplation.
I have entered into a vast sea, and, with great desire, I long for
the haven, and I see no way to return. Oh ! my sweet haven,
shall I ever find thee more. Oh ! my heart, how hast thou
suffered thyself to be taken away from so sweet a haven. Oh 1
my soul, look where thou art ; surely we are in the midst of a
deep sea, and the winds are adverse on every side. Lord, I
say unto Thee, as Jeremiah said, ' Lord, Thou hast deceived
me, and I was deceived ; Thou art stronger than I, and hast
prevailed ; I am a derision daily ; every one mocketh me. For
since I spake I cried out, I cried violence and spoil ; because
the word of the Lord was made a reproach unto me and a
derision daily.' And again, I will say with Jeremiah — ' Woe
is me, my mother, that thou hast borne me, a man of strife, a.
man of contention to the whole earth.' I would go to the
haven, and I find not the way ; I sought rest, but I found no'

The Popular Preacher and Political Adviser. 99
place of rest ; I would be in peace, and speak no more ; but I
cannot, for the word of the Lord is as a fire in my heart. His-
word, if I utter it not, burns my marrow and my bones. Well
then, Lord, if Thou wilt that I navigate this deep sea, Thy
will be done ! "
The introduction into Florence of a "Monte di Pieta" now
occupied Savonarola's attention. He earnestly implored all
classes to combine to promote it. " Let the women," he said,
" enrich it by their superfluities ; let every one present an offer
ing, and let it not be of farthings, but of ducats." There was
urgent need of this " Monte di Pieta." One had lately been
established at Perugia, which proved a great blessing to the
poor. In Lorenzo's time, an attempt had been made to open
one in Florence, but it had failed. After overcoming many
difficulties in the way of this scheme for the common good,
Savonarola had the joy of seeing it carried out under the
sanction of government.
Thus, in the course of one short year, many important laws
and regulations had been passed, all tending to. the establish
ment of freedom in Florence; and this had been effected
without the shedding of one drop of blood. The most
important of these were, the changes in the system of taxation,
by which the poorer classes were relieved ; the abolishing of
usury by the " Monte di Pieta ; " the granting permission to
the citizens to carry arms ; the passing of a law for a general
amnesty ; and the establishment of the Grand Council — the
darling of the Republic. To celebrate this victory of Liberty
over Tyranny, and ensure its being never forgotten, a statue
of Judith slaying Holofernes was executed by Donatello, and
erected in the most prominent position in the city. It now
stands within a portico adjoining the palace, to which position
it was removed upon the downfall of the Republic.

CHAPTER XII.
Jfreaehing, f rawing, and Wnrhing.

" If a great change is to be made in human affairs, the minds of men
will be fitted to it : the general opinions and feelings will turn that way.
Every fear, every hope, will forward it." — Burke.

Many of the greatest historians and statesmen of Italy
have regarded the new Constitution of Florence,
founded by Savonarola as — if not the very best that could be
framed, yet the very best for Florence under her peculiar po
litical circumstances. To understand fully the part which he
took in constructing it, " we must," says Signor Villari, " follow,
step by step, the formation of the new Constitution, and read,
at the same time, the sermons which he preached day by day
during that period. And when we follow the debates (which
may still be read in the manuscript journals of the proceedings,
preserved in the Florentine archives of the Signory in the
Palace), and find the citizens there using the Friar's very
language, adducing his arguments in his own words, to such
an extent that it might be supposed that their speeches were
mere repetitions of his sermons ; then, and then only, are we
made adequately aware of the degree in which this one man
had become the informing soul of the whole people."
Marvellous, indeed, was the work accomplished by that
" one man," and how much of it was the result of his preaching
and of his prayers, — who can tell ? Reviewing the changes
brought about by the new Government, he says in his sermon,

Preaching, Praying, and Working. ioi
preached April Tst, 1495 : — "When I saw that a change in the
Government was about to take place, and considered that it
could not be accomplished without great scandal and effusion
of blood, I determined — being inspired to that end by God —
to begin to preach to the people, to exhort them to repent,
that they might obtain the mercy of the Almighty." And in
September of that year, preaching on St. Matthew's day — he
said : " I began, and with all the strength that God had given
me, I exhorted the people to confess, to fast, to pray. This
having been willingly done, the goodness of God changed His
avenging sword of justice into forgiveness ; and on the nth of
November, the State and Government were miraculously
changed, without bloodshed, and without any other disturbance
having been committed in your city. And you, O people of
Florence ! having to accept the new Government, I showed
you what sort of Government was most suited to the nature of
the Florentine people, and proposed four things that you ought
to do : — first, to fear God ; secondly, to love the common weal
of the city, and strive for that, rather than that of individuals ;
thirdly, to establish peace between yourselves and those who
had been your rulers in the former Government." Trust in
the Lord, and do good, was the burden of this discourse.
The new laws, written in Italian (instead of Latin, as was
the custom previous to the expulsion of the Medici) were, in
many instances, extracts, almost verbatim, from Savonarola's
sermons. At the close of 1495, the state of Florence was such as to
call forth the highest praise on behalf of Savonarola and the
Government he had framed. Machiavelli, the doubting, pene
trating, Florentine secretary — one by no means likely to over
estimate a character so incomprehensible to him as that of the
enthusiastic, imaginative Friar and Prophet — not once, nor
twice, but many times, speaks of " the learning, prudence, and
purity of his mind, breathing divine virtue." " Of such a
man," he says, " one ought never to speak but with reverence."

102 Savonarola.
But it is from Guicciardini that we learn the true estimation
in which Savonarola and the new government were held by the
wisest men of the day. " Such was the love of the Florentines,"
he says, "for the liberty conferred on them in 1494, that
no arts, no soothings, no cunning devices of the Medici, ever
sufficed to make them forget it." "You are under a heavy
obligation," he assures Florence, "to this friar who arrested
the tumult in good time, and accomplished that which, without
him, could only have been obtained through bloodshed and
the greatest disorders." . . . And again, in warmest terms, he
praises " the prudence, the political genius '' of Savonarola —
" the saviour of his country." There are modern writers, too,
of eminence, who have, after much careful examination of the
subject, arrived at the same conclusion as that of Machiavelli
and Guicciardini. Francesco Forti — a man deeply learned in
the institutions of his country — says, " The reforms introduced
by the friar constituted, perhaps, the most just Government
that Florence had ever enjoyed while it was a Republic.
Italy can boast of few men greater than he, and perhaps of
not one equally great in the political history of the Florentine
Republic.'' And what was the temperament of Savonarola's mind, now
that his efforts for the welfare of Florence had been crowned
with success ? The brilliant future of which he prophesied, he
always declared to be "conditional.'' " If you do not turn to
the Lord," he often said, " the joyful will be changed into sor
rowful auguries." And now, that no sign of repentance met
his eye, hear his sad foreboding of coming evil. — "I am
wearied, O Florence, by my four years of unceasing discourses,
which have done nothing more than exhaust myself while
labouring for you. In addition to this, I have been afflicted
by the thought, never absent from my mind, of the scourge
that I see approaching, and by the fear and alarm of the
dangers to which it will expose you. I therefore pray to the
Lord continually on your behalf."

Preaching, Praying, and Working. 103
That he should himself die a violent death was the convic
tion of his soul. Often did he allude to it ; and now, just as
he had established the Great Council — that measure which he
had called for as being " the will of God " — and when thou
sands crowded to the Duomo, expecting to hear a triumphant
hymn of praise and thanksgiving — what did they hear ? This
simple allegory. ... "A young man, leaving his father's
house, went to fish in the sea ; and the master of the vessel
took him, while he went on fishing, far into the deep sea, from
whence he could no longer descry the port : whereupon, the
youth began to utter lamentations. O, Florence," said the
preacher, looking fixedly at his audience, " that youth is now
before you in the pulpit. I left my father's house to find the
harbour of religion ; taking my departure when I was twenty-
three years old, in pursuit only of liberty and a quiet life — two
things I loved beyond all others. But when I looked upon
the waters of this world, and began, by preaching, to gain some
courage and find pleasure therein, the Lord led me upon the
sea, and has carried me far away into the great deep where I
now am, and can no longer descry the harbour. Shoals are
on every side. I see before me the threatening tribulations
and tempests, the harbour of refuge left behind, the wind
carrying me forward into the great deep. On my right, the
elect calling on me for help; on my left, demons and the
wicked tormenting and raging. Over above me, I see ever
lasting goodness, and hope encourages me thitherward ; hell I
see beneath me, which, from human frailty, I must dread ; and
into which, without the help of God, I must fall. O Lord,
whither hast Thou led me ? That I might save some souls to
Thee, I am myself so fixed that I can no more return to the
quiet I left. Why hast Thou created me to live among the
discords and contentions of the earth ? I once was free, and
now I am the slave of every one. I see war and discord
coming on me from every side. But do you, O my friends,
have pity on me. Give me flowers. Flowers are good works,

104 Savonarola.
and I wish for nothing more than that you should do that
which is acceptable to God."
Too agitated at this moment to proceed, Savonarola paused,
saying, " Now let me have some rest in this tempest." Then,
with renewed energy, he continued, "But what — what, O
Lord, will be the reward in the life to come to be given to
those who have come victorious out of such a fight ? It will
be that which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard — eternal
beatitude ! And what is to be the reward in this present life ?
' The servant will not be greater than his Master,' is the
answer of the Lord. ' Thou knowest that after I had taught
I was crucified; and thus thou wilt suffer martyrdom.' O
Lord ! Lord ! " he then exclaimed, with a voice that echoed
through the church — scaring every heart in the vast multitude
before him — " grant me this martyrdom; let me quickly die for
Thy sake, as Thou didst die for me. Already I see the axe
sharpened. But the Lord says to me, ' Wait yet awhile, until
that be finished which is to come to pass, and then thou shalt
show that strength of mind which will be given unto thee.'''
There was a pause before the preacher spoke again. Then he
said, "Praise the Lord for His goodness !" and continued his
sermon.

CHAPTER XIII.
fapal IjastiUtg— Carnival of 1496.

"E'en they whose office is
To preach the gospel, let the gospel sleep,
And pass their own inventions off instead." — Dante.

We retrace our steps to consider, more in detail, the
temper of Rome towards Savonarola during the past
year, 1495.
Early in January, Alexander vi. became more than usually
excited by the Prior's sermon on the imperative necessity for
reformation in the Church, which he compared to a fig-tree,
which, '(in its early days, produced abundant fruit and no
leaves ; after a lapse of years, as many leaves as figs ; and later
still, leaves alone." And not only was this tree fruitless, '/its
overshadowing foliage injured the neighbouring plants "4-a
melancholy state of things, which seemed to move the
preacher's heart to its very depths. " You cannot doubt," he
said, gazing stpdfastly at his hearers, " that the gardener would
cut down so useless a tree, and condemn it to the flames."
Then, dropping the parable, he exclaimed vehemently, " Thus
it is with the Church. In primitive times she produced
abundant fruit, and, as it were, no leaves ; but she has
grievously degenerated, and now bears leaves only : fruit none ;
— in other words, outward ceremonies abound, pomp and
luxury are everywhere seducing men into every path of
error. As the thick foliage of the barren fig-tree injures the
8

106 Savonarola.
adjoining plants, so the prelates of the Church corrupt others
by their evil example. But this state of things will not," he
said, "last for ever. The husbandman — that is, Christ — will
come and cut down the tree, renew and reform the Church."
Here the preacher paused. Then, in deeper tones, he said, —
" When Pope Innocent vm. died, I was laughed at for de
claring that the Church must be reformed. But at that very
time a vision was granted me. I beheld a black cross sus
pended over Babylonian Rome, on which was inscribed : ' The
wrath of the Lord.' Swords, lances, arms of all kinds gleamed
around that cross ; while hail, devouring lightning, and hot
thunderbolts fell around. Then I saw another cross : it was
of gold, and reached from earth to heaven. It hovered over
Jerusalem, and bore this inscription : ' The mercy of God.' A
serene, limpid, and pure atmosphere surrounded it. From
that vision I learn that a reformation of the Church is not
only needed, but at hand."
The immediate result of this sermon, so far as the preacher
was concerned, was an order from the Vatican, commanding
him to preach during the coming Lent at Lucca. This order
was, however, withdrawn at the request of the Signory, and
Savonarola remained in Florence.
His old enemy, Mariano Gennezzano, was then at Rome, and
gladly seized the opportunity, which his near neighbourhood
to the Pope afforded, to feed the flame, which daily waxed
hotter and hotter in the breast of His Holiness, against the
audacious advocate of Church reform, whom he designated
"the tool of the devil." Upon the 25th of July this detested
one received a letter from the Pope, which began thus : —
" Much-loved Son, — Health and apostolical benediction. We
hear that, amongst all the labourers in the Lord's vineyard
you show the most zeal. This greatly delights us, and we give
praise for it unto Almighty God. We have also heard that
you affirm that your declarations concerning future events do
not proceed from yourself, but from God ; and therefore, in

Papal Hostility — Carnival of 1496. 107
accordance with the duties of our pastoral office, we desire to
converse with thee, and thereby know more especially what is
pleasing to God. Therefore we exhort you that, in the spirit
of all holy obedience, you come to us without delay, who will
receive you with love and charity."
Before he answered this crafty letter, Savonarola preached a
farewell sermon in the Duomo, warning his hearers of the
dangers threatening the Republic, not only from the Arrab-
biati, but also from Pietro de Medici, whose restless brain
was plotting a scheme by which to return to Florence.
The church was full to overflowing. Weary and sad, Savon
arola ascended the pulpit He had many things to say, all
more or less painful, and fraught with peril to Florence — the
" well-beloved." Charles vm. had left Italy without having
fulfilled the mission to which, as the preacher verily believed,
God had called him — that of being, first, the scourge, and
after that, the regenerator of Italy. This was a terrible blow
to the prophet, and gave, he well knew, encouragement to
scoffers, and unbelievers in the reality of his Divine mission, to
meditate evil against him ; while, through his fall, they trusted
to ruin the Republic. Full of this thought, Savonarola girded
himself for conflict, and, though weak and tottering as he
mounted the pulpit-steps, he had no sooner begun his sermon
than he felt " animated as by a sudden gift of the Spirit."
Fearless denunciation of vice, and prophetic announcement
of coming judgment, were, as usual, the prominent subjects in
this remarkable sermon. Expecting that his " tongue " would
" soon be silenced," he desired once more to deliver his own
soul by a declaration of truth not pleasing to his hearers^ many
of whom he knew to be "troublers of the peace of Florence."
Having touched upon various practical matters, Savonarola
thus took leave of his audience : — " My people, when I am in
this pulpit, I feel myself to be in a sound state ; and if, when
I leave it, I should continue to feel as I do when I am here,
I should continue strong. But when I leave this, I must

108 Savonarola.
attend to my health, and on that account it will be some little
time before I see you again, as I must try to get cured of my
complaint. If I live, I shall resume preaching. I believe I
must rest for a month unless your prayers should restore me
sooner. During my absence Fra Domenico will preach. I
will certainly return, if I am alive. . . . And now I must con
clude, for I have preached so much that I am quite exhausted,.
and have shortened my life by many years." "Well, then,
friar," he abruptly asked, "what reward do you wish to-
receive ?" "I wish for martyrdom. I am willing to undergo
it ; I pray for it daily," was the ready reply.
His answer to the Pope's letter, to which we have alluded,.
was written three days after this sermon. It is too long for
insertion. A few extracts will show the tone and spirit which
pervaded the whole letter. Savonarola assured the Pope that
he had long desired to visit Rome, " especially " that he might
" tread the threshold of the Apostles Peter and Paul, and be
able to worship their relics and blessed images." He reiterated
his earnest desire " to obey the command of His Holiness,
who deigned to call a poor worm into his presence." " Many
obstacles," he said, "stood in the way of the accomplishment of
this desire, causes which all must acknowledge to be reasonable."
And chiefest among these, he felt his "bodily infirmity and
agitation of mind brought on by over-exertion for the welfare
of the State." In short, " agitation of mind " had " so materially
injured his health of body," that he " avoided any increase of
labour," and, in obedience to the command of his physician,
had "determined to give up preaching and all severe study
for a season." Then, alluding to dangers which had, at various-
times, beset his path, he added : "Although I place my trust
in the Lord, I considered that I ought not to appear to tempt
Him by neglecting due caution ; even as it is written, ' If you
are persecuted in one city, fly to another.'"
While pleading these reasons for delay, Savonarola hopes he
may yet be able to visit Rome in accordance with the Pope's.

Papal Hostility — Carnival of 1496. 109
desire. In the meantime he tells him of a "little book" he
has lately written, which "will give all needful information
concerning the subject-matter of his preaching," those " coming
events which would bring ruin on Italy, and, in the end, the
renovation of the Church." His object in publishing this book
{dated " from the Convent of San Marco, the last day of July,
1495 ") was that the world "might see and judge for itself, by
the light of those coming events," whether or not he had been
a true prophet.
Whether Savonarola was aware of it or not, his friends at
Florence had good reason to wish to detain him amongst
them. The plots of the Arrabbiati, and open attempts, also,
to take his life, had justly alarmed the Piagnoni, while they
utterly mistrusted the Pope's expressions of goodwill. Indeed,
they doubted not that, if the Friar started for Rome, he would,
df not murdered on the way, be thrown into the dungeon of St.
Angelo the moment he entered the Eternal City. Savonarola's
illness, which pleaded his excuse for remaining at San Marco,
was a cause of sincere rejoicing to his friends. And now, for
a time, matters proceeded quietly, but early in September a
communication from Rome reached the friars of " Santa Croce,"
which alluded to Savonarola as "a certain friar, Girolamo, a
disseminator of false doctrines." When alluding to this strange
document not long before his death, Savonarola characterised
it as "full of abuse," and, besides, containing "eighteen mis
takes." " Why," he asked, " was it addressed to the Monastery
of Santa Croce while intended for San Marco ?" And why
did it speak of "a certain Girolamo," as if he were not well
known ? There were other " trifling errors," which he cared
not to specify. " So," added Savonarola, ever anxious to shield
the character of the Pope, " you see that His Holiness must
have been misled by calumnies concerning me, or there could
not have been such a change in his briefs." How true it is
that " Charity thinketh no evil."
But in truth Alexander vi. had a reason — a cruel reason —

I IO Savonarola.
for the " mistake " in the address of his brief. The friars of
Santa Croce — a Franciscan convent — were on bad terms with
those of San Marco, and the Pope knew that it would serve to
strengthen his own interests could he increase this mutual ill-
will; therefore it was that he addressed to Santa Croce the
brief intended for San Marco. Savonarola, at the time, took
no notice of the communication. The following October he
resumed his pulpit ministrations by preaching " three tremen
dous sermons," in which he exhorted the Florentines to rise as
one man in defence of liberty. The effect produced by these
sermons was felt in the Medicean camp. Pietro's attempt to
return to the city proved a failure.
The increasing hostility of the Pope was a grievous trial to
the Prior of San Marco. To be obliged to take his stand
against the head of the Church was abhorrent to his inmost
soul, as it was in later days to Luther. A very tangled net had
to be unravelled ere the simple-minded Friar could see the
path he ought to take. One thing, at all events, was clear to
him. He must not, by word or deed, bring reproach upon
the Church of Christ — the Lamb's wife. Therefore it was
that he now (on the 4th of November) obeyed a peremptory
order from the Pope to abstain altogether from preaching.
Forbidden to preach, Savonarola had the more leisure for
meditation upon the many subjects which pressed upon his
heart and conscience. And now an idea, which had for some
time floated in his brain, began to assume shape. It was a
fact — known to all— -that the election of Pope Alexander vi.
had been carried by bribery; in the opinion, therefore, of many
earnest men, his election was null and void. These earnestly
demanded the assembling of a council to depose him. The
chief mover in this was the Cardinal of San Pietro in Vincoli,
(afterwards Pope Julius 11.) He feared not to declare Borgia
" an infidel and heretic," and had more than once urged upon
Charles vm. the duty of calling a Council with a view to his
deposition. At the time Charles seemed rather to like this

Papal Hostility — Carnival of 1496. 1 1 1
proposal, and we learn from Guicciardini that when he passed
through Rome eighteen cardinals were closeted with him,
discussing this subject and the necessity for Church reform,
Julius himself being one of that assembly. However, as was
the way with Charles, he disappointed those who placed faith
in his promises ; and the much-to-be-desired Council was not
summoned. Savonarola had himself often written to Charles upon this
subject, reminding him of the high mission entrusted to him
by God. In each letter he addressed the king in the character
of " the Prophet of the Lord," reminding him that he had
foretold his coming into Italy; his successes and disasters;
and this, when " no one else was thinking upon the subject."
And now he warned him, in the name of the Lord, to change
his conduct and fulfil his promises to Florence, " lest the Lord
should recall His choice of him, and select another to be His
minister of justice." It so happened that the Dauphin of
France died just at the time this letter reached Charles. The
bereaved father felt the blow acutely, but he did not regard
it as a verifier of Savonarola's prediction; and, therefore, it
did not lead him to obey him — as "the messenger of the
Lord." In the midst of these trials and conflicts, Savonarola found
time to write a letter to his mother, to comfort her upon the
death of his brother Borso. In all the world there was none
other so dear to him as his mother, and his letter is full of
tender, loving sympathy. Alluding to public matters, he says :
" I feel sure that my death is not far distant, and I would that
your faith were so strong that, like that holy Hebrew woman
of whom we read in the Old Testament, you might look with
dry eyes upon your son's suffering and martyrdom before your
eyes." " My dearest mother," he adds, before closing his letter,
" I have not thus written to pain you, or in forgetfulness of your
grief, but that, if it should happen to me as I expect, you may
be prepared for it all."

1 1 2 Savonarola.
His health now began to improve, and he longed to return to
the pulpit ; but " until permission came from Rome " he would
"wait patiently." Looking around for employment, he found
it ready at hand — prepared for him by his enemies — the
Arrabbiati. Thus his .antagonist became his helper ; and in
this way. The Carnival of 1496 was approaching, and the
Arrabbiati made arrangements to ensure its being celebrated
with the unrestrained festivity and indulgence of vice of the
Medici days, when the whole city was one scene of sensual
gratification. This was their intention ; Savonarola roused
every energy of his soul to frustrate it, at least in respect of
the part the children usually played at it. Not for one moment
did he contemplate the doing away with Carnival amusements.
He knew full well that neither laws, nor doctrines, not magis
trates could do that. The children especially looked forward
all the year to that season as their time of highest enjoyment.
It was their habit, for days before its celebration, to traverse the
streets in groups — like the May-children in England — begging
" quatrini " for their evening festivities. The most popular of
these was the bonfire, lighted in the Piazza, round which they
danced, singing, as they whirled in mad excitement, the most
abominable rhymes. The evening closed by a game of throw
ing stones in the streets, which killed one or more passers-by
every year. The citizens, and even the Signory, had often
tried, but in vain, to put a stop to this silly and dangerous
amusement. The children had it all their own way; no
threats of punishment could terrify them, no entreaties induce
them to give up their cruel sport. Thus it continued, until
Savonarola took the matter in hand. Could not he do that
which all others had failed to do? Had he not already
effected what had, for ages, been counted impossible ? Thus
the Friar reasoned with himself, and feeling strong in the
conviction that the effort was called for, he determined to
work out " the children's reform."
And, first, he had small altars erected in the principal streets,

Papal Hostility — Carnival of 1496. 113
around which the children were to stand, and ask money from
the passers-by ; money — not to be spent in feasting, but to be
.given to the poor. Well pleased with the novelty of the thing,
the children gladly fell in with this arrangement. Finding
them so far tractable, Savonarola told them that the songs they
used to sing must not be sung again ; but that he himself, and
others, too, who loved them, had written holy songs for them
to sing at the Carnival. This, too, pleased the children ; and
so it came to pass that, without difficulty, the reform was carried.
There was no throwing of stones that year ; no unseemly
feasting; the 300 ducats, collected in the streets, were dis
tributed amongst the poor ; the children — the last day of the
¦Carnival — carried the money, the fruit of their obedience and
self-denial, to the institution for the benefit of "the poor
ashamed to beg."
As a matter of course, some objected to this novel mode of
spending the Carnival. But what of that? Such objectors
would have opposed anything in the path of reform suggested
by Savonarola. But none could deny that in carrying out
" the children's reform," he had accomplished that which, to
all others who had attempted it, had proved an impossibility.

CHAPTER XIV.
frince fico della mirandola.
"Friendship is soothing comfort." — Schiller.

The Pope's permission for Savonarola to resume preaching
reached him in Lent, 1496 ; and about the same time
His Holiness, in accordance with the advice of a learned Do
minican bishop, offered him a cardinal's hat if he would mode
rate the tone of his sermons. " Come to my next sermon, and
you shall hear my reply to Rome," was the Friar's dauntless
reply; and the following Sunday, "with a voice, thundering.
akin to lightning," he exclaimed from the Duomo pulpit, " I
will have no hat, but one dyed with my blood."
Day after day crowds thronged the church to hear that voice
which the thunders of Rome had failed to silence, except for a
short season. Hundreds who sought admission could not ob
tain it. Besides men and women, crowds of children came to-
hear him, whose influence they had acknowledged — children
who had collected money for the poor, had sung his hymns,
had given up throwing stones, because he told them not to
do so; told them that God loved them, and that therefore
they ought not to grieve Him by doing that or any other
wrong thing. Seventeen rows of steps, leading up to the first
row of windows, were erected for these children. There they
sat, silent and attentive; and often the preacher, turning to
them, spoke words which they could understand — words
which some of them never forgot.

Prince Pico della Mirandola. 115
But this zeal for God's honour, and the good of his fellow-
men, only made Savonarola more hateful to his enemies.
Many a plot was laid to assassinate him on his way to the
Duomo ; but armed friends guarded him ; the blow aimed at
him must first lay them low. Very devoted were these friends,
for their friendship arose not from flesh and blood relationship,
but from the union of heart with heart, spirit with spirit.
Throughout his life Savonarola had proved friendship to be
indeed "soothing comfort." In his struggle for liberty and
truth, he had the sympathy of men like-minded with himself,
some of whom had long been his earnest disciples ; men in
whom the ideals of their master's mind seemed to have found
realization. What a fast friend was Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, the
" Phoenix of genius," as he was called. His first meeting with
Savonarola was the turning-point in his life. Suddenly checked
in his career of worldly honour and ambition, by the influence
of the Prior's life and conversation, Prince Pico, the ardent
aspirer after universal knowledge, was transformed into the
humble inquirer after truth, as it is revealed in the Bible.
Speaking one day of his inner life to his nephew, while walk
ing in an orchard in Ferrara, Pico said, his " secret purpose "
was " to give away all his goods to the poor, and taking the
crucifix as his companion, walk about the world barefoot, and
in every town and castle preach Christ" And this, he said, he
desired to do "from love to Christ Himself." "Two things,"
he often said, " must never be forgotten — that the Son of God
died for men, and that they themselves must die shortly."
These sentiments of Prince Pico are peculiarly valuable, as
giving an insight into the mind of his teacher. Writing to his
nephew upon the subject of prayer, he says : — ¦" When I speak
of prayer, I speak not of that which consists of many words ;
but of that prayer which, in the secret chamber of the mind,
in the privy closet of the soul, with very effect, speaketh unto .
God. / 1 care not how long or how short thy prayer be, but \

116 Savonarola.
how effectual, how ardent.). . . Let no day pass thee, but that
once at the leastwise thou present thyself to God by prayer,
and falling down before Him flat to the ground, with an
humble and devout mind, not from the extremity of thy lips,
but out of the inwardness of thine heart, cry these words of the
prophet — 'The offences of my youth and mine ignorances
remember not, good Lord ! but, after Thy goodness, re
member me.' "
How true are these words with which the letter concludes :
" What thou shalt in prayer ask of God, both the Holy Spirit
which prayeth for us, and eke thine own necessity, shall every
hour put into thy mind ; and also, what thou shalt pray for,
thou shalt find matter enough in reading of Holy Scripture,
which that thou wouldst now (setting fables and trifles aside)
take ever in thine hand, I heartily pray thee — these hath in
them a certain heavenly strength, quick and effectual, which,
with marvellous power, transformeth and changeth the reader's
mind into the love of God."
And in the beautiful " Prayer of Picus Mirandola to God,"
are these lines, taken from an old English translation : —
" that mighty love
Which able was thy dreadful Majesty
To draw down into earth from heaven above,
And crucify God, that we, poor wretches, we
Shall from our filthy sin yclensed be ! "
And these : —
" That when the journey of this deadly life
My silly ghost hath finished, and thence
Departen must,
" He may Thee find
In Thy Lordship, not as a lord, but rather
As a very tender loving Father."
Prince Pico died the very day that Charles vm. entered
Florence. His life had been short — only thirty years. Savo-

Prince Pico della Mirandola. 117
narola was with him at the end, and preached his funeral
sermon in the Duomo.
When aware that death was near, Pico's one request was
for permission to be buried in the holy garb of a Dominican
monk. At first, Savonarola hesitated to grant it ; not until a
special vision revealed to him that he ought to give that coveted
privilege, could he be prevailed on to permit the remains of
his much-loved friend to be laid within the precincts of San
Marco. There they lie, by the side of Angelo Poliziano, who
died that same year.
Artists of every kind, architects, sculptors, painters, even
engravers, contributed, each in his vocation, to swell the ranks
of Savonarola's friends and admirers. The celebrated painter,
Fra Bartolommeo, the last of the elder painters of the first
Italian school, was only twenty years old when he began to
attend Savonarola's preaching. For eight consecutive years he
was to be seen, ever in his place in the Duomo, listening with
rapt attention to words which left an impression never to be
effaced from his mind. Bartolommeo was especially celebrated
for the exquisite beauty of his Madonnas. The religious enthu
siasm of his character fitted him for sacred subjects, and the
Friars of San Marco employed him to paint a fresco in their
church representing the Last Judgment. He was engaged in
this work when Savonarola preached one of his tremendous
sermons against the iniquity of the times. Sparing no one, he
denounced the Pope, the Medici, the luxurious Florentines,
and the profaners of Sacred Art. Sorely perplexed by the
sermon, Fra Bartolommeo, in a fit of despondency, laid aside his
pencil, not even to his " Last Judgment " would he consent to
add another touch. Not that his conscience could accuse him
of having sinned, as did others, by his paintings. His natural
love for the pure and beautiful, forbade his acquiring that pagan
style in Literature and Art which had been diffused throughout
Italy by the school of Padua, and was encouraged and fostered
by the Medici family. Yet, in conformity with the fashion of the

n8 Savonarola.
day, several of his pictures were of the character condemned
by Savonarola. The great painter, under the influence of the
still greater preacher, entered heartily into his desire for reform
in all branches of Art, and as evidence of his sincerity,
destroyed all his drawings which could not, without a blush,
meet the scrutinizing eye of the holy Dominican. Bartolommeo
was one of those five hundred citizens who, in defence of
Savonarola, made their way into San Marco the day that the
Arrabbiati besieged the convent, demanding, with horrid
cries, the deliverance of the Prior into their hands. Grieved
to the heart at the cruel treatment, the terrible torture and sub
sequent death of his beloved friend and guide ; art and fame,
henceforth had no attraction for Bartolommeo. For years he
never touched his pencil, and buried his talent in a convent.
At the end of four years, his superiors commanded him to
resume painting; he obeyed, and from that date became
known as, " Fra Bartolommeo di San Marco," or simply as,
"II Frate."
We might name others, artists of various classes, who were
devoted, not only to Savonarola, and to the doctrines taught by
him, but who were also, as a natural consequence of the
ascendency which he had gained over them, desirous to promote
that Reform in Art which he had set himself to accomplish.
Many of those friends would have shed their blood in his
defence. After his martyrdom not a few of these, feeling
almost as if light and hope had perished with him, resolved, as
they wept at his cruel death, to lay aside their pencil for ever.
In the days of his popularity the best artists prayed permis
sion to take the Prior's likeness, whether on canvas or in marble.
The finest work of the first engraver of intaglios that Italy
ever produced, is a bust of Savonarola, which may still be seen
in Florence ; and Baldini, the celebrated painter and illustrator
of Dante", engraved his work, "The Triumph of the Cross,"
with an amount of care which he had never bestowed upon
any other work.

Prince Pico della Mirandola. 119
Even Benevieni, the Platonic poet and friend of the Medici,
published an earnest defence of Savonarola and of his doctrines.
Raphael, too, had a high admiration for his character, and ten
years after his death, when Julius 11. was Pope, he honoured the
martyr's memory by placing him amongst the most celebrated
characters of the Romish Church, in his famous fresco of the
" Dispute of the Holy Sacrament," now in the Vatican.
Michael Angelo was an earnest listener to the great preacher
in the Duomo ; and though he never sympathized with him in
his sweeping condemnation of what he termed " Paganism in
Art," he admired his eloquence, both in the pulpit and as a
writer, and warmly shared with him his love for civil freedom.

CHAPTER XV.
Sermons en $mos and lechariah,

It is not enough to believe what you maintain. You must maintain what
you believe, and maintain it because you believe it. Archbishop Whately.
Upon the 17th of February, 1496, Savonarola began his
famous course of Lent sermons on Amos and Zechariah.
It was a solemn occasion. He knew these sermons would
add tenfold fury to the wrath of the Pope, who even then
thirsted for his blood. He knew also, that the Arrabbiati
hated him for his incessant call for reformation. The Signory
knew this, too, and sent officials to keep guard while the Prior
passed through the streets. At the appointed hour he left his
cloister-cell for the Duomo ; his body-guard instantly gathered
round him, and he reached the church in safety. Thousands
were there awaiting him. Slowly, and apparently with diffi
culty, he ascended the pulpit ; but once "enthroned," as George
Herbert would express it, no weakness betrayed itself. Look
ing around with stern gaze, his eyes " flashing like live coals,"
he paused for some seconds, while his breathing, audible
throughout that great building, told how deeply he was moved.
Then he began in the form of a dialogue :
" Tell us, Friar, why you have been so long in a state of
repose, and have not come out to help your soldiers?"
" My sons, I have not been in a state of repose ; I have
been in the field, and have been engaged in defending a rock,

Sermons on Amos and Zechariah. 121
which, if it had been thrown down, you, perhaps, would also
have been destroyed. But now, by the grace of God and
your prayers, we have been saved."
"What then, Friar? Have you dreaded the being put to
death?" " Most certainly not, my sons. If I had been afraid, I
-should not be here now, for my present danger is far greater
than the former."
" Have you, therefore, had some scruples of conscience
about preaching?"
"Not I."
" Why, then, did you stop ? We have heard that a sentence
of excommunication has been received, and that you have been
commanded not to preach. Have you read that sentence ? "
" Who sent it ? But, supposing it to be as you say, do not
you remember that I told you that if it did come, it would
have no effect, and would be of no service to those wicked
ones who are full of lies ? "
" What has been the reason, then, Friar, that you have kept
us so much away from you?"
" I will tell you if you will listen to me patiently."
In the course of his explanation, Savonarola said that, seeing
opposition increasing against " an insignificant man, not worth
three pennies, "„ he began to think that perhaps his " tongue
might have been led astray " — that he might not have " looked
well to his words and ways." He therefore "considered them
one by one, looking only to the question of faith," as " ques
tions of grammar and logic no longer belonged to his office."
And the result of this examination was the conviction that his
"way had been perfectly clear," because he had "believed and
taught what the holy Catholic Church believes."
Savonarola made this declaration, fully persuaded that the
¦doctrine which he preached, though so unsavoury to the Pope,
was that of the true Catholic Church. And he boldly main
tained that he was not bound to obey the commands of
9

122 Savonarola.
ecclesiastical superiors, not even those of the Pope, " if they
were contrary to charity or to the Gospel." He did not, he
said, "believe that the Pope would wish him so to do." But
were he to do so, he would say to him, " Thou art not a
good shepherd; thou art in error."
Referring to his own peculiar circumstances, and to the
Pope's command to him to come to Rome, he said he did not
consider himself bound to obey a command which " the whole
city, down to the simplest maiden," knew proceeded from
"political hatred." If, indeed, he believed that his leaving
Florence would be for the good of the city, then would he
willingly go. But this he did not believe, and therefore he
" would not obey the order of any living man " to stir from his
post. Then, foreseeing that his words would be misrepresented,
he exclaimed : " O ye who write such lies to Rome ! tell me,
what will ye now write? Ye will say of me that I said we
ought not to obey the Pope, and that I myself do not intend
to obey him. But that I have not said. I have written what
I have spoken, and you will see that I cannot unsay it."
In this sermon Savonarola touched upon all the topics he
meant to consider at length in this, his most celebrated course
of sermons. Throughout them all he exhibits a fearless inde
pendence of mind rarely met with, especially in those days of
spiritual bondage to ecclesiastical authority.
Indeed, all he had ever said was as nothing compared to the
" words of fire " which fell from his lips this Lent. For
instance : " I ask thee, Rome, how is it possible that thou
canst still exist ? By night the priests are sunk in the lowest
depths of vice ; the next morning they read mass and celebrate
the Sacraments. All is venal at Rome ; every position put up
for sale ; even the blood of Christ to be had for money ! "
Then, turning to the people, he said : " Ye are corrupt in
everything ; in your speaking and in your silence ; in what you
do and what you do not do ; in your belief and your unbelief.
You declaim against prophecy; yet some one tells you a

Sermons on Amos and Zechariah. 123
strange dream, and you believe in him. You fast on a certain
Saturday, at a prescribed hour, and you do so under the belief
that you will thereby be saved. I tell you the Lord desires
not either certain days or certain hours, but that in every day
of your life you should flee from sin. But you, on the contrary,
are good in one hour of the day, that you may be wicked the
rest of your lives. See," continued the stern preacher, " see
what took place during the last three days of Holy Week.
Then were to be seen such running after indulgences and
pardons ; some one way, some another ; some kissing the
image of Saint Peter, some that of Saint Paul ; some this saint,
some that ; such coming and going, ringing of bells, decking
out of altars, and adorning of churches ; all this for three days
before Easter, but no later I God is indifferent to these your
doings, because ye will be more wicked after Easter than ye
were before."
In another sermon he asks : " What, if I should ask you to
give me ten ducats for the poor, you would not But if I
were to say, ' Lay out an hundred ducats on that chapel of San
Marco,' you would. Yes, for the purpose of putting up there
your armorial bearings ! not for the honour of God. Look
round the convents, and you will see their walls covered with
coats-of-arms. Looking up at what is over the door, I fancied
I should see a crucifix, and it was a coat-of-arms ! Again I
look up, and again a coat-of-arms meets my eye. Nothing else
is to be seen. I observe drapery, and conclude it covers the
painting of a crucifix, but I find a coat-of-arms. These, these
are your idols to whom your sacrifices are offered up."
As usual, each sermon prophesied of coming evil. Alluding
to the pestilence, which he repeatedly declared would desolate
the city, the preacher exclaimed : " Be assured that there will
not be. enough people left to bury the dead, and there will be
no means of having numerous burials. There will be so many
deaths in the houses that men will go through the streets
crying with a loud voice, 'Who has any dead? Who has

1 24 Savonarola.
any dead ? ' And people will come out from their houses,
saying, ' Here is my son — here is my brother ; ' and another —
' Here is my husband.' Then they will go through the streets
calling out, ' Are there no more dead ? Who has any dead ? '
And so thinned will the population be, that very few will
remain." Throughout Lent the burden of Savonarola's preaching was
— "Woe ! woe to the land because of its iniquity. Alas ! alas !
Fly from the land of the North, that is, from your vices, and
turn to Christ. Behold, there comes a time of darkness, when
He will rain fire, flame, and stones ; and there will be a time
of storms. I have placed you between four winds, saith the
Lord; that is, between prelates, princes, priests, and wicked
citizens. Fly from their vices, and unite together in charity ;
deliver thyself, O Sion, that dwellest with the daughter of
Babylon. Fly from Rome, for Babylon means confusion, and
Rome has confused all Scripture, has confounded all vices, and
has thrown everything into disorder. Fly, therefore, from
Rome, and turn to repentance."
Two of these sermons were preached upon the completion
of the new hall for the Great Council, and were exclusively
devoted to political matters. Though the erection of this hall
had been superintended by the celebrated architect, Cronaca,
it had progressed but slowly, until Savonarola spurred him on
to greater speed by these pulpit addresses. From that moment,
Cronaca's activity became so remarkable, that it became a
saying among the people — " The angels have come to assist
him." It is observable that all who bore any part in the
erection of that hall were adherents of the Friar. M. Angelo
was one of those first consulted about it, and the celebrated
painter, Fra Bartolommeo, contributed the Altar-piece.
The building being finished, 1,753 persons assembled in it
upon the 25 th of February, and, at once, proceeded to elect
the New Signory. Great was the Prior's joy at this solemn
event. Alluding to it in his sermons he severely censured the

Sermons on Amos and Zechariah. 125
party-spirit which had heretofore "contaminated elections,"
and in particular, the habit of distributing handbills through
the city, denouncing such and such persons as not fit to be
elected. "You ought not," he said, "to pay any regard to
those handbills. If you have good reason to consider this or
that candidate a bad man, say so openly ; declare your opinions
frankly, that such a person is not the right man for the office.
If, however, he be a right man, elect him."
In Florentine elections, a black bean was favourable, a
white, unfavourable to the candidate. In reference to this
mode of voting, Savonarola said, " I hear that some in the
Council have said of a party-man, ' Let us give him a black,
or a white bean,' according as he belongs to this, or that parly.
And, what is still worse, I hear that there are some who say —
' He is a friend of the Friar, let us give him a black bean.'
How is this ? Is this the lesson I have taught you ? I have
no friend but Christ, and him who does what is right ; do not,
therefore, act thus ; for that is not what I would do ; and, by
following such a course, you will immediately create divisions.
Let the elector give his vote to him whom, in his conscience,
he believes to be a good and prudent man, as I have, on other
occasions, told you." In this, as in every other part of Savo
narola's history, we see a noble, unselfish desire to promote the
general welfare of the Commonwealth. No self-seeking, no
personal consideration marred the purity of his motives.
The success which attended these sermons led Savonarola
to believe that similar results would attend any plan for reform
ation which he might adopt. And now, Palm Sunday being
at hand, he made arrangements for a procession of children,
which should walk through the streets of Florence, each child
bearing a small red cross in one hand, and, in the other, an
olive branch. Eight thousand boys formed that imposing
spectacle. The future painter, Ridolfo Ghirlandajo, is believed
to have been one of that vast multitude of boys upon whom
Savonarola built his hopes of a bright future for Florence.

1 26 Savonarola.
The clergy, and monks of various orders, in full canonicals,
followed the boys, and after them came an immense multitude
of citizens — men and women, old and young, rich and poor.
Young girls, robed in white, with snowy garlands encircling
their heads, and accompanied by their mothers, closed the
procession. And ever as it moved along, hymns were chanted,
patriotic songs were sung, while the city bells poured forth
their merry peals until the air rang again.
The children having reached the Duomo, Savonarola
addressed them upon subjects suited to their comprehension.
Many shed tears that day, as he closed his discourse by a
fervent exhortation to the people of Florence to accept Christ
as their King. As he descended the pulpit-stairs, the congre
gation dispersed, the children again walked in procession,
stopping in the Piazza to sing a hymn on the future prosperity
of Florence ; after which they carried to the office-bearers of
the Monte di Pieta, the collection made that day in the
Duomo. It was about this time that Savonarola in one of his sermons
declared his conviction, that the Church should stand firm to
all eternity ; while everlasting destruction awaited those who,
by word or deed, brought dissension into the Church. In our
Lord's words, " Thou art Peter, and on that rock (Pietra) will
I build my Church," he recognized the undoubted authority
of the Pope. " Nevertheless," he added, " we are not bound to
obey all his commands. If they are in evident contradiction
to the laws of charity contained in the Gospels, it is our duty
to resist them, as St. Paul resisted St. Peter." Bold words,
which the preacher would not have dared to utter, had he not
believed (in common with many Catholic divines of authority)
that the election of Pope Alexander vi. was null ; and for the
cherished hope that, before long, a Council should assemble
which would root out of the Church many of the evils by which
she was contaminated. Then, alluding to his own death, which
he felt persuaded was not distant, he asked abruptly, " What

Sermons on Amos and Zechariah. 127
will be the end of the war you are keeping up ? If you ask
me what the general end will be, I answer, ' Victory ! ' But,
if you ask what will be the end to me, in particular, I answer —
'Death.' Death, but not Extinction — Death first; Resur
rection after. Rome shall not quench this fire, as she will try
to do ; if she quenches it for a time, another, and stronger, will
break out. ... I am but an instrument in the hand of the
Lord — therefore, I am determined to fight to the last.''
Signor Villari, speaking of Savonarola's sermons on Amos
and Zechariah, says, " Whole pages demonstrate, that in other
circumstances and with other subjects, their author would have
been the greatest of Italian orators. There is a boldness, a
fire of eloquence in his sentences which is quite original. His
language is entirely so ; and in the very manner in which his
ideas are conceived there is a power wholly his own. His
illustrations are given with a force — it may almost be said, with
a degree of violence, so as quite to overpower the imagination
of his audience. If to all this we add the effect of his voice
and gestures, we can understand the great enthusiasm of the
Florentine people. The impression he produced this Lent was
greater than in all previous years ; and the fame of those
sermons spread everywhere ; the rage of his adversaries rose to
a climax ; the devotion of his followers amounted to fanaticism ;
the princes of Italy protested ; the Pope was furious ; and it
seemed as if the Vatican itself trembled under the thunders of
his eloquence."

CHAPTER XVI.
Sincerity of Purpose — Weakness of Judgment,

' Water cannot rise higher than its source, neither can human reasoning. "
Coleridge.

It is difficult, almost impossible, to learn from Savonarola's-
writings the exact point of view from which he regarded
his prophecies and prophetic mission in general. It would
appear that sometimes he predicted future events by a process
of simple reasoning ; the study of Scripture, combined with a
deep sense of the corrupt state of the Church, leading him to
form such and such " conclusions," as he termed the results of
those meditations. At other times he appears to have believed
that by " celestial visions," granted to him in the solitude of his
cell, or, it might be, in the pulpit, the future was revealed to
him. At such seasons " an inward fire," he used to say, " con
sumes my bones, and forces me to speak.'' Carried away, as
it were, by an unseen hand, heaven appeared to open before
him, and voices, unheard by. others, made known to him what
God was about to do. So mightily did these revelations affect
him, that, when imparted to him in his cell at night, they were
sure to banish sleep ; and all the day following, weariness and
exhaustion overpowered his frail body. If, on the contrary,
the vision appeared to him while in the pulpit, there was no
limit to the wild excitement, the tumult of exultation which
filled his soul. Words fail to describe the effect of his preach
ing at those times of ecstatic rapture — men and women of

Sincerity of Purpose — Weakness of fudgment. 1 29
all ages, the rich and the poor, artisans, poets, philosophers,.
" sobbed aloud," we are told, " until the very walls of the
Duomo echoed their wailings." In the note-book of one
accustomed to take down the Friar's sermons, these words
may still be read : — " At this place I was so overpowered
by weeping, that I could not go on." There were moments,
too, when the preacher was so affected himself that he was-
obliged to pause for some time before he could proceed with
his sermon, and it was no uncommon thing for him to be con
fined to bed by serious illness after one such discourse. The
conviction, ever before his mind, that he should die a violent
death, and that soon, no doubt gave to his preaching a special,
almost a supernatural, power. As a dying man, he spoke to
dying men of death, judgment, and eternity.
Savonarola was familiar from his youth with the thoughts of
his favourite author — St. Thomas Aquinas — on " the co-opera
tion of angels," and on " the nature of the Old Testament
prophets and their visions." While yet a boy, he himself had
his visions and dreams, which, acting upon his exquisitely
sensitive temperament, left him shaken and agitated in mind.
And when, in later years, St. Thomas gave place to the Bible,
and the Friar found that, after hours spent in prayer and the
study of that Book, his dreams and visions multiplied ; he
began to regard these as direct inspirations from God, sent
to him through the intervention of angels, even as, according
to St. Thomas, the prophets were inspired. Having made up
his mind upon this point, there was not a dream or imagina
tion, no matter how strange, " for which," saysjiis biographer,
" Savonarola did not find a parallel in the Bible. Thus fasci
nated, he often passed whole nights on his knees in his cell,
a prey to visions, by which his strength became more and more
exhausted, his brain more and more excited, and he ended by
seeing a revelation from the Lord in everything."
In those days there lived in San Marco a friar — Salvestro
Maruffi — a somnambulist. Owing to an illness in childhood,

1 30 Savonarola.
Maruffi was, while under the influence of somnambulism, a prey
to strange visions and mysterious sounds, as of men conversing
together. It is a curious fact that, while Maruffi himself attri
buted these visions and voices to his own bodily infirmity, and
always termed Savonarola's revelations "follies," the Friar
placed implicit reliance in the dreams and visions of the som
nambulist, and warned him " not to slight so great a gift from
God, but rather to ask Him to make them clear to him." His
intercourse with Maruffi confirmed Savonarola in his belief that
his own visions were heaven-sent. Thus everything — natural
character, physical temperament, study, prayer, the daily life
he lived — all conspired to encourage in him a faith, as blind
as it was fervent, in the supernatural. In his " Dialogues on
Prophetic Truth," these visions are collected together in a mass
of hopeless confusion, which it were vain to seek to unravel.
Savonarola, however, makes this declaration concerning visions
in general : — " They come," he says, " direct from God, and
are imprinted by the angels on the intellect, and not on
the affections, without having the effect of securing the salva
tion of man."
What weakness we discern in all this ! But is not the sin
cerity of the Erior of San Marco as strongly marked ? For
instance, in his dialogue between himself and an allegorical
personage, who represents " the gift of the Spirit," he indig
nantly replies to the question, " Have you ever feigned to be a
prophet, in order the more easily to persuade the people of the
truth of your doctrines?" "To try to deceive the people by
bringing in the name of God would be a grievous sin. I know
the purity of my motives. I have worshipped the Lord in all
sincerity. I seek to follow Him. I have passed whole nights
in prayer. I have spent my health and my life for the good of
my neighbour." In another passage alluding to his visions, he
says, " It is not possible that the Lord should deceive me. His
light is truth itself— a light which helps my reason and directs
my steps."

Sincerity of Purpose — Weakness of Judgment. 1 3 1
" But what," asks one of his allegorical objectors, " what is
the ground of your certainty that the ' revelations ' granted to
you are a reality?" A most difficult question! How could
Savonarola meet it ? How explain by human arguments that
supernatural power had been given to him ! A miracle, and
that alone, could do this ; and the time might come when he
should be called upon by his enemies to perform a miracle in
proof of his Divine mission. And so persuaded was Savo
narola that if so solemn a moment should arrive the called-
for miracle would be wrought, that no uneasy thought on that
head ever crossed his mind. This seems most strange. But
is there no possible explanation for a state of mind which
appears inexplicable ? It cannot be denied that some of the
Friar's predictions were fulfilled; especially remarkable was
that most unexpected event — the invasion of Italy by Charles
vm., following as it did the great preacher's repeated announce
ment that a terrible scourge was at hand. For a mind consti
tuted as his, each fulfilment of his predictions could not fail to
add strength to his conviction that his insight into the future
was by direct revelation from God, and thus the way was
prepared for his reception, — in the same spirit of blind belief, —
¦of other revelations, however mysterious and contrary to
all human calculation they might be.
Besides, as it has been suggested, "has it not often been
observed that, in times of public interest and excitement,
thoughtful men, especially those of a religious turn of mind,
have seemed to be endowed with an almost superhuman
sagacity, which has enabled them, by careful observation of
passing events, to foresee, and therefore foretell, that such and
such results would inevitably follow, and this without any
dishonesty of purpose or desire to lay claim to supernatural
power?" Can we, then, wonder, and especially bearing in
mind the character of Savonarola and of the times in which
he lived, that he should have believed himself to be endowed
with prophetic powers ? We cannot. Neither can we doubt

1 32 Savonarola.
that it was in all honesty of heart and purpose that he was-
wont to appeal to this or that fulfilment of his prediction as a
proof of his Divine mission. Highly nervous and imaginative
as he was, and often led away by excitement, " is it surpris
ing," it has been asked, "that he indulged in delusions to-
which even the hard-headed sons of England and of Scotland
— Knox and Wycliffe — were not strangers?"
Be it remembered that it is because of his moral, rather
than his intellectual, power, that Savonarola has been called —
and truly called — a great man. Surely he was a grand and
noble character. In an age of almost unexampled depravity,.
he, with his whole soul, abhorred that which was evil — cleaved
to that which was good. His earnest search after truth ever
led him upwards and onwards, though his mind, trammelled
from infancy by Papal superstitions, bore to the end the stamp-
of such evil training. We have seen that even in youth he
loathed the impure atmosphere around him ; and this, in itself,.
was a marvellous fact, testifying to his innate love for purity
and truth. This seeing of things invisible to others — sur
rounding evil, and its antidote — Divine truth — led him, in the
greatness of his love for the Church and for Florence, to-
attempt a reformation both civil and ecclesiastical. Having
discovered truth, he could not enjoy it without longing that
others should share it with him ; the possession of it was to )
him as a command from heaven to proclaim it throughout the]
length and breadth of the land.
Throughout his entire life, from first to last, we find this
high and holy aim kept steadily in view. To attain it Savo
narola was ready to suffer any loss, to sacrifice to that ruling
passion of his soul all to which nature would have clung;.
gladly would he do this could he but lead Florence to forsake
the evil and choose the good.

CHAPTER XVII.
tfopularitu increased and Trouhle likewise,

: No one in mortal sin hath, in the sight of God,
A true dominion over any of His creatures." St. Augustii

The great preacher's fame had now reached its height ; his
sermons on Amos and Zechariah were translated into the
Turkish language by the command of the Sultan, in order that
he might read them himself. In Germany, too, they were
eagerly read, and Savonarola tells us that " many believed in
the truths they contained." They found their way also into
France and England. It is not improbable that Colet (after
wards Dean of St. Paul's) — an Oxford reformer of 1498 — may
have heard those sermons preached in the Duomo. There is
scarcely any doubt that he was in Italy in 1496 ; and, if in
Italy, could he have failed to visit Florence, were it only that
he might come face to face with the Prior of San Marco ? Two
Oxford students — Grocyn and Linacre — had already visited
Italy between 1485 and 1491, and returned to England
"saturated," we read, "with the new learning" recently
brought from Constantinople. These Oxonians were friends
of Colet, and, no doubt, often talked with him about their visit
to Italy, and all that they had heard and seen there, and
especially in Florence, the very centre of learning and art.
It is even within the bounds of possibility that they may them
selves have listened to Savonarola's first sermon in fheDuomo,
for that sermon was preached August, 1491 — the year that
Grocyn and Linacre left Italy.

1 34 Savonarola.
Colet records this concerning himself, that, while at Oxford,
before he visited Italy, he had " devoured " " Cicero " and
" ardently studied Plato;" but that, while in Italy, he "gave
himself up " to the study of Holy Scripture. What led to this
great change he omits to mention, but Erasmus, his intimate
friend, tells us that, when speaking to him of his visit to
Italy, Colet mentioned having there " become acquainted with
certain monks of true wisdom and piety." The supposition
that Savonarola may have been one of those monks has cer
tainly no historic testimony to rest upon. But, nevertheless, if
that supposition be correct, it is most interesting to think that the
return of the future Oxford reformer to England, with his mind
" fully made up " to devote himself to the preaching of the
Gospel of Christ, may have been owing, in part at least, to his
having come into direct contact with the great Florentine
preacher. At home these sermons on Amos and Zechariah increased
his popularity tenfold with his own party, the Piagnoni;
while, on the other hand, they caused his enemies, the
Arrabbiati, to regard him with a more intense hatred. The
most absurd reports against him were believed and widely
circulated; for instance, that he, the Republican Friar, had
made friends with the detested Pietro, so that henceforth,
Florence would be ruled, not by one tyrant, but by two !
Stanzas like this — " O ungrateful people,
Thou art misled by a cry,
And follow a guide
Full of hypocrisy" —
were sung through the streets by the Arrabbiati; to which
sentiments the Friar's friends from among the middle classes
often replied by short treatises rather more to the point. One
of these writers signed himself — " I, John, who am neither
gentleman nor lord, but a Florentine tailor."

Popularity increased and Trouble likewise. 135
The Italian princes bitterly complained that Savonarola had
preached his sermons against them. II Moro, Duke of Milan,
was one of those deeply injured princes. And, indeed, if his
character, as drawn by himself, had been a true likeness — had
he been " a man of blameless life " — his case was a hard
one. To II Moro's remonstrance, and that of others similarly
aggrieved, Savonarola replied : " I allude to all persons, and
not to any one individually."
But no potentate was so furious as the Pope — the infamous
Borgia. When reminded by the Archbishop of Pistoia that
he had given Savonarola permission to resume preaching, he
abruptly exclaimed : " Well, well, we shall not now talk about
Friar Girolamo; there will, ere long, be a fitter opportunity
for doing so." To hasten matters, he shortly after summoned
a Consistory of fourteen Dominican theologians to look
narrowly into the character of Savonarola's doctrines, and of
his conduct ; and this he did in the hope of finding ground
for accusation against him. With one exception, the fourteen
Dominicans pronounced him guilty. The principal charge they
adduced was, that he had been the cause of all the evil which
had befallen Pietro de Medici ! What a proof did this afford
that the Consistory had not been assembled from an honest
desire to discuss theological questions — that the spirit which
directed them was bitter political hatred !
Probably the refusal of Florence to join the Holy League
(concluded at Rome in July of this year, 1496) may have
increased that hostile feeling. The contracting parties were —
the Pope, Alexander vi. ; Maximilian, King of the Romans ;
Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain ; Henry vn. of England ; the
Signory of Venice ; and II Moro, Duke of Milan. The special
object of the League was, " the maintenance of the rights of
the Holy Roman Empire and of the Papal See, and the defence
and preservation of each of the contracting parties." On the
31st of July, it was solemnly published in the Church of San
Marco, in Venice, when high mass was celebrated by the

136 Savonarola.
Patriarch ; bells were rung and bonfires lighted for three days.
It was also published at Rome and at Milan on the same day
as in Venice.
From this League Florence stood aloof, determined to
' adhere to the French alliance. It was a perilous decision, and
"brought her and her adviser — Savonarola — in as guilty of
conspiracy against the united interests of Rome, Naples,
Milan, and, above all, of the Pope himself.
In the middle of political tumult and intrigue, the Friar
found time to write treatises upon doctrines which he desired
to bequeath to generations yet unborn. He also published a
commentary upon the 80th Psalm. His sermons now became
few and far between, but very lengthy. In May of 1496, he
preached upon the books of Ruth and Micah. Sometimes one
discourse occupied many hours. " Here we are still, and have not
fled," were sometimes his first words upon entering the pulpit.
" I cannot," he often said, " exist without preaching, and am
come here in obedience to Him who is Prelate of prelates and
Pope of popes." Then, with deepest earnestness, he would
beseech the Lord to send down His Holy Spirit upon the
Church, even though it should be by means of " a scourge,
which, by correcting, the Church, may re-open the way to a
wide diffusion of grace and of the Spirit."
About this time he, at the request of the Signory, preached
a political sermon before the magistrates and chief citizens
assembled in the Great Council. After a short review of his
past life, he proceeded to answer the many false charges
brought against him. " If I have condemned vice," he said,
" I have not given personal offence to a single individual ; if I
have interfered in your affairs, if I have prevented quarrels, or
calmed people's minds, I did it to the honour of God. My
enemies go about crying : ' The Friar wants money ; the Friar
has secret correspondence ; the Friar wishes for a Cardinal's
hat.' I tell you that, if such were the case, you would not
mow see me with a ragged cloak." Then, addressing the

Popularity increased, and Trouble likewise. 137
Invisible, he said : " I wish to glorify myself in Thee, and in
Thee alone, O my God. I wish neither for mitre nor hat. I
only desire that which Thou hast bestowed upon the saints —
death !"
After this preamble, the preacher declared his conviction
that the best hope of maintaining the new Government lay
in " full liberty being secured to each member of the Council
to state his opinions fully and freely." "There can be no
useful discussion," he said, " without this liberty ;" therefore, to
secure it was, to him, a matter of deepest moment.
The Great Council, which he had been so instrumental in
instituting, had now been two years in existence. Since its
formation many changes — partly caused by the invasion of
Italy by France — had passed over the Republic. These
changes called for a sure and safe guide to steer Florence
through the peril and difficulty attendant upon them. And,
naturally, Savonarola, who before had guided the beloved city
through even darker times, was looked to for council and
wisdom. Fully alive to the responsibility of the task, he at
once, and heartily, accepted it. Florence was at that moment
in a perilous position. Her alliance with France had made
her obnoxious to all the rest of Italy. The " Holy League "
seemed inclined to make her its prey, in revenge for her
refusal to join it, while the wrath of the Pope burned against her
with increased intensity — the destruction of the Republic, and
the re-instalment of Pietro de Medici as his vassal, being the
darling object of his ambition, even as hatred against Savonarola
was the ruling passion of his mind.
In September, the convent of San Marco received a letter
from the Pope concerning "one Fra Girolamo, a friend of
novelties, and a disseminator of false doctrines," who had
" reached such a pitch of insanity, that, without offering the
slightest proof, either by miracle, or any special testimony to
be found in Scripture — such as the canonical books would
require — he had proclaimed himself to have been 'sent by
10

138 Savonarola.
God, and to have direct communication with God.'" If we
credit the Pope's statement, all this had been met by " great
patience " on the part of His Holiness, in the vain hope that
the guilty one " would repent and amend his ways, and show
due submission to the Holy See." In conclusion, the Pope's
letter placed the case of the " contumacious friar " in the hands
of the Vicar-general of the Lombard congregation, and com
manded him to "submit meekly to his authority" — to go
wherever he might be ordered, and in the meantime to
" abstain altogether from preaching in public and in private."
This brief re-united San Marco with the Lombard congre
gation. Savonarola saw at a glance the design of this union
of convents. Each step of the way was clear to him. If the
congregation of San Marco were dissolved, his authority as
Prior would, of necessity, cease ; and if, in obedience to the
Pope, he left Tuscany, he should inevitably fall into the
hands of His Holiness. To the Pope's letter he therefore sent
a plain and explicit reply. He "regretted" that the Holy
Father " had been so deceived respecting him." Concerning
his doctrines, he affirmed that he had " always acted with
submission to the Church." Respecting prophecy, he said :
" I have never absolutely stated that I was a prophet, although
that would not be heresy ; but I have certainly predicted many
things, some of which have come to pass, others will, in time.
Besides, it is known to all Italy that the scourge I predicted
has already commenced ; and that, by means of my words
alone, the peace of Florence has been preserved, without
which her misfortunes would have been much greater. But,
to remit our cause," he goes on to say, "to the Lombard
congregation is to abandon us to our adversary ; for the
controversy between the two congregations is known to all."
In conclusion, Savonarola prayed the Pope to grant him " an
answer and full absolution ; " and repeated his assertion that
he was " willing to submit " himself and his writings " to the
correction of the holy Roman Church."

Popularity increased, and Trouble likewise. 139
The Pope's reply, issued on the 16th of October, did not
press the union of the two congregations. But why this
forbearance? No doubt he had learned to appreciate the
firmness of the man with whom he had to deal, and saw
plainly that the Friar would neither dissolve his congregation
nor leave Florence. So, discretion being the better part of
valour, the Holy Father, after an expression of "joy" at the
"recovery of the lost sheep," added: "We have, in other
letters, manifested our grief for those tumults in Florence
of which thy sermons have been the chief cause ; for in
place of preaching against vice, and recommending union,
you announced future events — a thing sure to create discord,
especially in Florence, where the seeds of disunion and
faction are so thickly sown." For these reasons the Friar
had been "pressed to come to Rome;" but now that "good
hope is entertained " that he will " yield due obedience to the
Roman Church," the Pope declares himself to be "greatly
rejoiced and fully persuaded " that his "beloved son has erred
more from over simplicity than from an evil mind." Soft
words ! followed by the reiterated command to " abstain from
all preaching, public and private," so that none might say that
his church had been "turned into a conventicle." Ere he
closed his letter, the Pope expressed his earnest longing to
behold his beloved son within the holy city, and promised him
a joyful reception. " All antecedent briefs " were declared
" suspended," that the Friar might be able to " attend in quiet "
to his "spiritual health."
Savonarola knew how to value the paternal tone of this
letter. He trusted it not. Scarcely had it been received, when
a very different document arrived from the Florentine ambas
sador at Rome. According to it, the Pope " toiled night and
day" to compass the Friar's death. Can we wonder at this?
for, so long as Savonarola lived to thunder from the pulpit
against tyranny in general, against the tyrant Pietro, in par
ticular, who was known to have a secret understanding with

140 Savonarola.
Rome, and was, in fact, living within her walls ; just so long as
he lived and preached, the Republic could not be destroyed.
The spirit of liberty, which he had evoked long before, and
still kept alive in many a heart, forbade such a possibility.
But had Alexander vi. forgotten that Savonarola had not
preached since his Bull of September 16th commanded silence ?
that he now promises pardon for all the past on the sole con
dition of perfect and continued silence ? Naturally, Savonarola
thought long and anxiously over this Bull. Should he dis
obey it, and thus appear to bring scandal on the Church ?
The idea was abhorrent to his soul. Therefore, while
"longing to place himself at the head of his soldiers," he
refrained, though it was pain and grief to him. Silent he bad
been, and silent he would continue, at least for the present.
" I know," he said, writing to a friend, " I know the root of
these insidious proceedings ; I know that perverse citizens are
their author. Wishing to re-establish tyranny in Florence,
they have entered into agreement with potentates in Italy.
To further that end, they wish to kill me ; I dare not walk out
without a guard of armed men." Nevertheless, "for conscience
sake," he would "obey, rather than commit a venial sin."
Maximilian, King of the Romans, now threatened to invade
Italy at the invitation of Milan and Venice, who hoped thus to
force Florence to accept the proposals of the "Holy League."
Want of money for the enterprize saved Italy from such a
catastrophe. With unfeigned joy Florence received this
intelligence. Reading it by the light of Savonarola's pro
phecies, the citizens regarded the abandonment of the projected
invasion as "a Divine mystery," the manifest Finger of God!
The efforts made, however, to meet it had been gigantic ;
money, soldiers, all necessary means whereby to repel the
enemy had been raised. But famine followed in their train.
Day by day food became more scarce, while adverse winds
drove back ships freighted with corn destined for the relief
of the starving.

Popularity increased, and Trouble likewise. 14 1
Can Savonarola now keep silence ? Impossible ! Urged by
the Signory, and by the compassion which burned within him,
he set the Papal mandate at defiance, and once again mounted
the pulpit of the Duomo to exhort the perishing for lack of
bread, to bear their trial patiently, sustained by that hope of
coming good which upheld his own soul For six weeks he
had not addressed Florence. How changed his audience !
How many vacant places ! How many faces, pale and wan —
faces of the young as well as the old, the rich as well as the
poor — told of want, starvation, misery ! The preacher saw
and felt it. But his sermon was not one of condolence. He
knew that among his listeners were many of the Arrabbiati —
" disaffected ones " — who had scoffed at his prophecies, and
now rejoiced in the misery which reigned around. To them,
the sight of tender women and little children dying by the
roadside had been " pleasant." To their ears the cry, " Bring
out your dead," had been "as music." And why? Because
the presence of pestilence and famine would serve to convince
the people that the prophet, who had promised prosperity to
Florence, had deceived her.
But upon what terms had this " prosperity " been promised ?
Terms which Florence had not fulfilled. She had not
repented of her evil doings; and now, as often before,
Savonarola sternly demands repentance. " This," he said,
"must be your first work." Then, leaning over the pulpit,
he continued in the form of a dialogue : —
" Is your mind clear, Friar ? "
" I reply that my mind is clear, and that what I have fore
told will come to pass, even to the smallest iota."
" Thou art clear, then ; of what ? "
" That tribulations are near ; that thou art contending against
Christ. And I know that the good promised to Florence will
come, and that the wicked will be tormented both in this
world and the next."
Then, he reminded them of the day when the revolution was

142 Savonarola.
accomplished and they became free, and of the departure of
Charles vm. at his request. " Believe, then, in my words," he
solemnly added, "and put your trust in the Lord." The
sermon continued in the same strain to the end. The earnest
longing of the preacher was to see " the whole city turning
to God." The Frateschi left the Duomo much comforted.
The Arrabbiati, hardened rather than softened by the
Friar's discourse, departed, to meditate fresh mischief against
him. Two days after this sermon, the joyful news reached Florence,
that ships laden with corn, thought to have been lost, had
reached Leghorn. And now, even the Arrabbiati, confessed
that Savonarola had this time proved himself a true prophet ;
he had promised help, and help had come.
The supply, so opportunely received, was not very great in
itself, but its moral effect in raising the spirits of the people
was of the utmost value. Savonarola returned thanks to Him
to whom thanks were due, for this great mercy, and exhorted
the people to moderate the extravagance of their joy — not to
be " so easily overcome either by joy or sorrow."
The day following was the anniversary for visiting the graves
of departed relatives and friends. Savonarola seized the
opportunity to preach upon a preparation for tranquil death.
" Death," he said, " is the most solemn event which can befall
man. It is then that the devil has his final struggle with us ;
it is as if he were playing a game of chess with us, and was
watching the moment of death to give us check-mate. He
who gets the better of him then, has won the battle of life.
My brethren," he continued, " we live but to learn how to
prepare to leave this world — to have a happy death." Before
leaving the pulpit, Savonarola advised all present to keep near
their beds, "a picture calculated to remind them of the solemnity
of death." This sermon was published, and went through
several editions. It was illustrated by engravings, executed by
the best artists of the day, representing scenes such as the

Popularity increased, and Trouble likewise. 143
Friar had recommended as suitable to prepare the soul for
death. This season of trial passed, Savonarola returns to silence ;
but, too late to shield him from a fresh outburst of Papal
wrath, accompanied by demands upon San Marco, which he, as
its Prior, determined to resist ; and yet, so unwilling was he to
believe anything prejudicial to the Pope, that in his reply he
supposes his unjust demands were made " through false and
deceitful information." Nevertheless, setting his face as a flint,
he deprecates the being " terrified by threats of excommuni
cation," to do that which would be " poison and perdition to
his own soul and to the souls of his brethren." "We must
resist," he says, "if we cannot prevail to have the demand with
drawn. We must do as St. Paul did, who when Peter was
come to Antioch withstood him to the face, because he was to
be blamed." Thus, open war was declared between the Pope
and the Friar. Before the end of November, Savonarola
resumed preaching.
Thus closed the year 1496, the year which witnessed the
climax of the great preacher's popularity. When his public
ministry began, in 1489, he prophesied that it should continue
for eight years. Is it likely that that prophecy will prove cor
rect ? Judging by the signs of the times it does not appear
improbable. At least, it is not likely the predicted time will
be lengthened. The words which head this chapter — words
first uttered by St. Augustine, had been lately echoed by the
Prior of San Marco. Some who heard them, and believed
them to refer especially to the Pope, had transmitted them
to Rome ; the infamous Borgia heard of them. Too well he
knew that whether intended to apply to him or not, they
did so emphatically. Friends and foes of Savonarola alike,
looked to his death as all but certain, and, moreover, not
far off.

CHAPTER XVIII.
humiliating: JHselosures — Carnival of 14*07.

" How poor, how rich, how abject, how august,
How complicate, how wonderful is man!" — Young.

Savonarola is now hard at work trying to finish his
" Triumph of the Cross.'' To gain the more leisure he
appointed Fra Domenico to take charge of the spiritual matters
connected with the convent. But Domenico was a poor
substitute for the master whom he deeply reverenced. His
sermons, chiefly a reiteration of that master's prophecies, and
denunciations, were coldly received. It was one thing for the
Prior of San Marco to speak that which he himself firmly
held to be truth — quite another for his disciple to make those
statements second-hand. Therefore it was that Domenico had
to withdraw from a post which he was unable to fill.
The Carnival of 1497, a season long remembered in Florence,
is at hand. The wealth of that city, in those days, was not
surpassed — probably not even equalled — by that of any other
in the world. The Medici, whose reign of splendour began at
the close of the fourteenth century, were emphatically, " Prince
Merchants; " their court shone conspicuous, as the most brilliant
scene of mediaeval life in Italy. But, while unequalled in the
refinement of art and intellectual culture, the Florentines were
debased by luxury and enslaved by vice. Fully alive to this,
the great preacher has never spared them ; day by day he has
called them to repentance. His longing desire was to move

Humiliating Disclosures — Carnival of 1497. 145
ithousands; his loving heart mourned over the city in her
•degraded state, and yearned to see her turning to God. No
half measures — as he understood them — would satisfy him ;
nothing short of a thorough change of life — the outward demon
stration, the unmistakable evidence of a work wrought within
the heart — such a demonstration, and of a character to excite
the imagination, and stir the very depths of Florentine excita
bility, he now demanded. " For full fifteen hundred years the
like had not been seen."
The time fixed for this demonstration was the Carnival —
that great religious festival of the Middle Ages, to which princes
and nobles — mingling with actors, rope-dancers and clowns —
gathered from all parts of Italy. It was at the Carnival (years
before) that the glittering many-coloured Harlequin and his
partner Columbine, made their first appearance. Punch and
Judy, too, had their origin in the Italian puppet-show, so
•celebrated at the Carnival. It was there, too, that dancing,
feasting, and all kinds of amusement reached their height in
Florence, and therefore it was that Savonarola selected the
Carnival — of all seasons of the year — for his " demonstration."
Having the previous year succeeded in carrying out "the
¦children's reform" at the Carnival, he hoped to do even
greater things now.
Vasari, in his " Life of Bartolommeo," tells us that, among
other kinds of revelry during the Carnival, " it was the custom
to make bonfires in the squares on the evening of Shrove
Tuesday, and, according to ancient practice, dance around
them, men and women, hand in hand, singing songs." This
custom suggested to the Friar the idea of having all articles,
how valuable soever they might be, which were calculated to
minister to luxury and worldliness, consumed in those bonfires.
To carry out this idea he enlisted in his service a band of
youths under the guidance of Domenico. For days before the
Carnival, these boys, " dressed as angels," traversed the city,
calling at door after door, and in supplicating tones asked for

146 Savonarola.
"vanities," the "accursed thing," for the great Auto da Fe".
Manycomplied,whileothers thought the Prior's "youthful police,"
very unwelcome intruders. Marvellous was the amount of
trinkets, ornaments, money, false hair, collected for the huge
bonfire in the Piazza, where an immense scaffolding represent
ing a pyramid, was erected, and then filled with fagots, around
which were fifteen tiers of shelves to receive the objects to be
destroyed. " And so it came to pass," continues Vasari, " that,
as Savonarola, day after day, declared from the pulpit of the
Duomo, that itwas wrong to keep things calculated to injure young
persons, the citizens brought a vast quantity of pictures and
sculptures of evil tendency — many of them the work of great
artists, and books and lutes and song-music, so that the loss-
was very considerable. Fra Bartolommeo carried thither all
his studies of designs from the nude ; and Lorenzo di Credi,
and many others, who were called ' Piagnoni,' did the same."
"Books of bad tendency, especially those of Boccaccio and
Pulci, were heaped, pile upon pile, on the shelves of the doomed
pyramid, and, side by side with them, were the offerings of
women, — costly shawls from India, rouge pots, essences, bottles-
of orange-flower water, and perfumes to no end. While their
husbands and brothers added their quota in dice, and dicing
tables, chess boards, harps, and all kinds of musical instru
ments, playing cards, with magical and superstitious books of
incredible quantities."
The amount of valuable property thus consumed may be, in
some degree, estimated from the fact, related by Burlamacchi,
that a merchant from Venice offered twenty thousand florins-
(nearly equal to so many pounds sterling) for the heap. His
offer was rejected ; and his portrait, placed on the top of the
monstrous figure intended to personify Carnival, was burned
together with it. The conflagration took place at night, while
the excited mob danced round the burning pile to the sound of
trumpets. "So that," says the historian Nardi, "upon that
occasion the boys had a Carnival festival sufficiently magnifi-

Humiliating Disclosures — Carnival of 1497. 147
cent and devout, in place of the inveterate custom of the
populace to amuse themselves on that day with the stupid
diversion of throwing stones, and other still more damnable
practices of this our depraved generation."
These extravagances were followed by others of a most
painful and humiliating character. When Savonarola con
demned worldly amusements as being contrary to the mind of
God, he spared that of dancing, which he thought might be
consecrated to His service. To this end, he employed the
best poet of the day to write what he miscalled " sacred words,"
to be sung to popular airs, while the people danced. Strange
to say, the friars of San Marco came from their cells into the
Piazza, and danced with the citizens "in monstrous rounds,
formed of one friar and one layman alternately, all joining
hands." How humiliating to read of these extravagances ! to see how
a man of deep learning, and full of zeal for the honour of God,
and for the highest good of his fellow-men, was led by monkish
fanaticism to regard as an act of piety that which was really
a burlesque on religion. It could not be but that such an
outrage on common sense and true piety must, eventually, lower
Savonarola in the judgment of the more sober-minded and
discerning amongst his followers. And so it did. From this
time the tide of popular favour turned against him ; his political
power began to wane. But his own confidence in the reality
of his mission, as being direct from God, never abated, and to
the end, notwithstanding these extravagances, the Prior of San
Marco stood forth undaunted, as the champion of Church
reform and the enemy of Papal usurpation.
During Lent he finished his sermons on Ezekiel. "Woe to
the Church because of her iniquity," was still the burden of his
cry. " It is by riches the Church has been corrupted." " But
is it true," he asked, " that the Church should not have tem
poral possessions ? By no means .... not absolutely ; just
as the mariner does not, absolutely, desire to throw his wealth

148 Savonarola.
into the sea, but solely to escape shipwreck. So, we say that
the Church would be better without riches, because thereby it
would be in closer union with God. I say to my reverend
brethren : ' Keep fast by poverty ; for when riches enter a
house, death follows after.' Those who have usurped ecclesias
tical property, he added, " let them give it up to the Church
of Christ, if they would be considered good pastors. In other
words, let them give it to the poor, setting canons at defiance.
Say what you will, charity will always be my first canon. I
tell you that it should be a fixed rule with you that no canon
can be in opposition to charity. If it be so, it is no true
canon." Did Savonarola believe that a purely ecclesiastical reformation
could stem the torrent of universal corruption in Christendom ?
He distinctly stated the contrary. " Faith," he said, " is
necessary to restore youth to the heart. What means this war
that has been stirred up against me ? It means this — that I
have brought to light the corruption of the wicked. But
I shall do as Friar Jacopone did in the Consistory, who, on
being told that he must preach on some subject, turned round
and repeated three times : ' Your sins are so great that I am
amazed the earth does not open her mouth and swallow
you up ! '"
With terrible and increasing distinctness, Savonarola seemed
to see the " shadow before " of some event — a crisis in the
strife : a revolt of Christendom against the " profligate Church "
to whom the Lord had given " beautiful vestments," of which
she had " made idols," while God, the giver of every good gift,
was dishonoured. " For what," he asks, " does the harlot
Church say herself? (Listen, and I will tell you.) 'He who
has money, may enter and do what he lists' But what saith the
Lord ? ' Behold, I will stretch forth My hand, and will come
upon thee, thou degraded one.' "
In tones of unmitigated severity, he accused " priests and
friars" of having, by their "bad example, driven the people into

Humiliating Disclosures — Carnival of 1497. 149
the sepulchre of ceremonies." " I tell you," he said, " this
sepulchre must be broken up ; it is the will of Christ that the
Church be renovated in the spirit." . . . . " We ought," he
repeatedly said, " to pray for this renovation. Write to France,
to Germany, to all places, that the Friar tells them, to pray to
the Lord that He may come to them. Up then ! Send out
messengers. Jesus Christ has many servants, who keep in
concealment, and weep over this disease."
Alluding to the expected Papal excommunication, he said :
" As for me, I pray Thee, O Lord, that it may come quickly.
'What, have you no fear of it?' you ask me. Not I, for they
wish to excommunicate me because I do no evil. Let this ex
communication be carried aloft upon a spear, and let the gates
be thrown open to receive it. I will answer it, and if I do not
excite your wonder, say of me afterwards what you please. I
shall make many faces on every side grow pale, and will send
forth a voice that will make the world tremble and be moved.
I know, full well, that there is one at Rome who is daily
striving to injure me. But he is not actuated by zeal for
religion, and does it solely because he is sunk in servility to
mighty and great lords."
Savonarola here alludes to his old enemy, Mariano Gen-
nezzano, of whose secret plots to destroy him he was well
aware. This is, perhaps, the only instance in which the Prior
descended to personalities in his sermons. He afterwards re
gretted having done so, and apologised for having so distinctly
alluded to an individual. The sermon from which these extracts
have been taken was, in many respects, a remarkable one ; it
closed with these words : " Some say, ' The Friar has given in,
and sent one of his followers to Rome.' I can tell you the
party at Rome does not do my bidding ; and, if flattery had
been my habit, I should not at this day be in Florence.'
(Does Savonarola here allude to the offer of a Cardinal's hat
made to him the previous year?) "But, O Lord," he con
tinued, " such things form no part of my desires. Thy Cross

150 Savonarola.
is all I wish for ; cause me to be persecuted ; I ask this favour
of Thee, that I may shed my blood for Thee as Thou didst shed
Thine for me." After a pause, he continued : " Meanwhile,
my sons, cast away doubt, for we shall surely have the support
of the Lord." Thus did this faithful, though often sorely
mistaken, servant of God seek to strengthen himself for the
great conflict upon which he had entered. And now, while
threatened with excommunication, he laboured unceasingly to
have a general Council assembled.
Towards the end of April, while the discontent and irri
tability of the people were heightened by famine and ' the
plague, Florence was startled by a fresh attempt of Pietro de
Medici to force his way back into the city. He had many
friends within her walls, and, best of all, the chief magistrate
was an old partisan of his house. Nevertheless, the attempt
was a signal failure, and Pietro, disappointed, retraced his steps
to Rome, where he sought to solace himself by the indulgence
of every sinful passion by which the body and soul of man
can be defiled.
The new Signory of Florence, lately appointed, is bitterly
hostile to Savonarola. A few of its members have banded
together to compass his death; but, as yet, his popularity
forbids the success of any attempt to take his life, even had
the warrant for his death been procured. And during these
days of strife and tumult, he, who was the object of venomous
hatred on the one hand, and of fervent love on the other,
remained secluded within San Marco. Silenced for the pre
sent, forbidden to preach either in public or in private, and
often disturbed when engaged in prayer, or when instructing
his brethren, he found comfort and refreshment for his mind
in preparing his sermon for Ascension Day, which was close at
hand. He was " determined '' to preach on that day — 4th of
May, 1497.

CHAPTER XIX.
Tumult on Jiseension ®au — Wrath of the f ope,

" He is not to be called apostolic who merely occupies the apostolic seat,
but he who fulfils the functions of the apostle. "
Claude, Bishop of Turin (8th Century).

A nd he did preach. The evening before Ascension-day,
J~*- some of the Arrabbiati, assisted by priests of their
party, forced their way into the Duomo, and spread the skin
of an ass over the pulpit, into which they drove sharp nails
with their points upwards. These spiteful acts failed to satisfy
the more violent of Savonarola's enemies, whose desire was to
take his life, or, at least seriously injure him, and so by the
aid of a maker of fireworks a plan was contrived by which the
pulpit and its occupant might be blown up in the middle of the
sermon. Upon second thoughts, however, this was abandoned
on account of the injury such a catastrophe would bring upon
hundreds of innocent persons assembled in the Duomo.
Suspecting mischief of some kind, the Prior's friends
earnestly entreated him to give up his intention to preach on
Ascension-day. With noble indignation he replied, " I cannot,
through fear of man, leave the congregation without a sermon
on the day upon which the Lord commanded His disciples to
go and spread His doctrines throughout the world." To this
answer his friends had not a word to say : so they left him to
prepare his sermon, while they made arrangements for his
protection.

152 Savonarola.
And first — very early in the morning — they repaired to the
Duomo, cleansed the pulpit, drew out the nails, and planed the
woodwork. At noon they escorted Savonarola to church, and
found an immense crowd already assembled — friends and foes
mingled together. The Compagnacci — dissolute aristocrats in
perfumed garments ; the Piagnoni, in simple attire, looking
as if they had come to worship, formed a striking contrast.
The sermon was unusually calm, dignified, and free from
invective. After some remarks upon faith, which the preacher
said — "can do all things, overcome all things, and which
regards the life on this earth with indifference, being secure of
that in heaven" — he started in his usual style — "The times
that were foretold are now near at hand, when it will be seen
who is truly devoted to the Lord. The wicked believed that
they could prevent my preaching this day, but they know that
I have never failed, from fear of man, to do my duty. There
is not on earth the man who can boast that he has seen me so
fail ; I am quite prepared to lay down my life for my duty.
O Lord ! free me from those adversaries who call me a seducer ;
set my soul free, for my body I have no fear ; I call the Lord,
the Virgin, the Angels, the Saints to witness that things revealed
by me come from God ; that I have received them by Divine
inspiration, in long protracted vigils, for the good of this people
who are now plotting against me." Then, addressing those he
designated " the good," he said — " Ye are sad when ye should
rejoice. Tribulations are approaching, there will be a war of
excommunications, of swords, and of martyrdom. The days
of trial are come ; it is the will of God that I should be the
first to meet it  There are those that say I am no
prophet; but they do all they can to fulfil my prophecies.
Once again I tell you that Italy will be laid waste by barbarous
nations ; and when they make peace with one another, destruc
tion upon destruction will be the fate of perverse Italy. But
do you, ye pious, offer up your prayers, and the Lord will help
you. And now ye evil minded " — at these words a murmur of

Tumult on Ascension-day — Wrath of the Pope. 153
disapprobation was heard throughout the Duomo ; but taking no
notice of it, Savonarola exclaimed, " O Lord, be not angry with
them ; forgive them, convert them, for they know not what they
do." Then, addressing the disturbers of order, he said — "Ye
wicked ones, ye think ye are in conflict with the friar, while ye
are warring against God. Therefore, I fight with you, not from
any ill-will I bear towards you, but from the love I bear to the
Lord. Why turn ye not to the Lord that there may be peace ?
' Friar,' thou wilt say, ' thou oughtest not to be preaching, for
the Signory has forbidden thee.' .... 'That is not true,'
I reply. ' Neither ought I to abstain from preaching through
fear, or at the command of man. I shall be silent only, when
I have reason to fear that my sermon might do harm.' "
As these last words were uttered, a tremendous crash was
heard. The church doors flew open ; the people fled for their
lives ; no one knew what had happened. It seemed as if the
Duomo, shaken to its foundations, were falling to pieces. The
Compagnacci were the ring-leaders in this tumult ; every
kind of noise, the beating of drums, knocking about of
benches, was resorted to. The disorder was indescribable. Two
of the chief magistrates rushed towards the pulpit, hoping to
seize the preacher, upon which one of these received a blow
in his face from one of the Piagnoni — an indignity never
before offered to one holding his office.
In vain Savonarola tried to be heard. Holding aloft the
Crucifix, he cried aloud — " Trust in this ; fear nothing !"
Then falling on his knees he remained a moment in silent
prayer. The tumult having a little subsided, he descended
from the pulpit ; the Piagnoni gathered round him ; then,
raising their swords, spears, and crosses aloft, they escorted
him to San Marco.
In the quiet convent-garden, Savonarola finished the sermon
which had been so cruelly interrupted. He observed, " The
later the hand of the Lord shall come upon the wicked,
so much the more severe it will be, in rendering to each man
11

1 54 Savonarola.
according to his works. The wicked will not believe, they
will not hear, but they shall be overthrown in the ditch they
have digged for themselves ; they are sapping the foundation
of a wall which will fall upon them. But," he exclaimed — " T
will sing praises unto the Lord, I will depart joyfully from
this life !"
This sermon made a great noise throughout Italy. Every
one expected that it would lead to important results ; they
were right in so thinking. That Ascension-day sermon was
the beginning of the end ; dark days were, indeed, fast
approaching. " Be not disturbed by persecutions " — the Friar
exhorted his followers, " but rather rejoice in them ; not a drop
of blood has been shed, for the Lord, knowing our weakness,
has not let us be tried beyond our strength ; and as temptations
and tribulations multiply, He will give faith, virtue, and courage
for greater things."
To prevent the recurrence of another such sermon as that on
Ascension-day, the Signory issued a proclamation forbidding
any friar to preach. Immediately after this step had been
taken, they thought to procure sentence of banishment against
Savonarola ; but receiving a hint that such a measure would not
be tolerated by Florence, they contented themselves with the
assurance that the Papal Excommunication would soon arrive,
and fulfil all their desires. Meanwhile, the Pope was kept
fully acquainted with the aspect of affairs in Florence. The
tumult on Ascension-day, the manifest and increasing weakness
of the Friar's party, and the strength of his enemies — all were
known to him, and impressed him with the conviction that the
moment had arrived when the sentence of Excommunication
might be safely published against " the tool of the devil — the
curse of the Florentine people."
Seeing the storm gathering, Savonarola wrote a mild and
dignified letter to the Pope. He "lamented " that " the Holy
Father'' had " never listened to him." But, on the contrary,
had " lent a willing ear to lying accusations and misrepresenta-

Tumult on Ascension-day — Wrath of the Pope. 155
tions of his sermons." Before closing his letter, he resumed
his declaration of submission to the Church, and persisted in
affirming that he had " never preached any doctrine contrary
to that of the Holy Fathers, which, he said, his ' Triumph of
the Cross ' would certify to the whole world."
How little the writer thought, when he penned this letter on
the 22nd of May, that, already, the threatened Excommunica
tion had gone out against him ! But before it reached Florence
it had to encounter many difficulties; messenger after messenger,
to whose care it had been committed, failed to deliver it,
thinking, as it appeared, that it was unsafe to meddle with it.
A month had almost passed before the Bull reached Florence,
and then many of the clergy refused to publish it. Why?
Because it had not been entrusted to " an apostolical com
missioner." In this Bull the Pope, in his usual mysterious style, alluded
to "a certain Girolamo Savonarola, as we have been told — the
Vicar of San Marco." Then, referring to his disobedience in
not keeping silence when commanded, His Holiness affirms
that "with great benignity" he had "accepted his excuses."
But now, they to whom the Bull is sent are " commanded "
that, " on all festivals and in the presence of the people they
shall declare that same Fra Girolamo to be excommunicated,
and to be held as such by every one, inasmuch as he has not
obeyed our apostolic admonitions and commands.'' And further :
By this Bull " every " one " was " prohibited, under the like
penalty, from rendering him any assistance, having any com
munication with him, expressing a word in his praise, "inas
much as he is excommunicated and suspected of heresy."
"Suspected of heresy!" Is this all the Pope can lay to his
charge ? Have we not here additional evidence that the poli
tical and not the religious character of Savonarola and of his
teaching was the true ground of papal hostility against him ?
Savonarola obeyed this mandate so far as to refrain from
preaching for some time. Nevertheless, he wrote "a letter

156 Savonarola.
against surreptitious Excommunication, to all Christians and
the beloved of God." The design of this letter was to defend
the writer's character and the doctrines which he taught, while
at the same time, it contained his re-asserted determination to
submit to "the judgment of the Church." A second letter
quickly followed, in which Savonarola proved, by long extracts
from Gerson ("under whose wise guidance the revolution, after
the great Papal schism, had left the Pope the constitutional,
instead of the absolute monarch of the Church ") that " an
appeal from the Pope to a general council was not only allow
able, but a duty." " Nor will a Christian be guilty of sin," he
said (again quoting Gerson) — "when, in order to avoid an
unjust excommunication, he avails himself of the secular power.
It is very right to be humble and courteous to the Pope ; but
when the end is not gained by that humility then a courageous
liberty must be resorted to." To these quotations Savonarola
added these words — " All this comes admirably in support of
our cause ; nevertheless, so great is the ignorance of man in
the present day, that many believe, not only that we ourselves,
but also all those who come to the convent — are under excom
munication. Others, yet more ignorant, declare that it is
necessary to avoid all intercourse with those who frequent our
church. Such persons know not that Martin v. declared in
the council of Constance (and it was confirmed in that of
Basle), that " the faithful are not obliged to avoid those who
have been excommunicated, unless these have been expressly
named in the sentence."
The Bull was solemnly published in Florence on the 22nd
of June, in the presence of a large assembly of clergy, minor
' friars, .monks — black, white, and grey. The bells were tolled
"tapers were lighted, the Bull was read; then the lights were
' extinguished, and for some moments there was stillness as of
death ; and then " the slow, shuffling tread of monkish feet was
heard departing in the dim silence."
The boldness of the Friar in declaring the Pope's Bull

Tumult on Ascension-day — Wrath of the Pope: 157
unjust, and therefore invalid, added tenfold to the anxiety of
his friends ; for the belief that the Church was " a living
organism, instinct with Divine power to bless and to curse,'
was in their minds fixed and unchangeable. And yet, there
were a few who, knowing little of Church traditions, and caring
less, centred their Church beliefs in Savonarola, and in him
alone. To his authority these were content to bow; and now,
in his excommunication, they saw nought but " the assault of
alarmed selfishness, headed by an infamous old man, once
called Roderigo Borgia, and now lifted to the pinnacle of
infamy as Pope Alexander vi."
To these few independent spirits, Savonarola presented him
self as one standing alone — sustained by the grand energies of
his nature, and by his faith in God, the Unseen, the Judge of
all men — against an unlawful exercise of ecclesiastical power.
Friends and enemies were alike intent, the one to. injure,
the other to support him. About this time it was that the
brothers of San Marco sent to the Pope a paper in his
defence, signed by two hundred of their Order. On the
other hand, on the day of San Giovanni, the Augustine and
Franciscan monks declared they would not defile their
garments by worshipping in company with the friars of San
Marco ; whereupon an order was issued, desiring the latter
and the Dominican monks of Fiesole to remain within their
cells. It was not long before the Bull of Alexander vi. bore fruit.
Having silenced that voice which had ever preached holiness
of life, licentiousness revived within Florence, and in one short
month the days of Lorenzo the Magnificent — days, the memory
of which caused even the most profligate to blush — had come
back. Strange to say, the Signory elected throughout this
year were friendly to the Friar. In vain they tried to have
his sentence of excommunication recalled. " Your Holiness,"
they said, addressing the Pope, "could not confer a greater
favour on the Republic, especially in this time of pestilence

158 Savonarola.
when censures bring with them danger of so grave a kind
upon the souls of men, than to set this good and most
religious man free."
Failing with the Pope, the Signory had recourse to a most
unworthy expedient. The Cardinal of Sierra, afterwards Pope
Pius in., was in debt. He owed five thousand crowns. What,
if he could be persuaded to procure the recall of the Bull, if
Savonarola would, on his part, absolve him from that debt !
The Cardinal willingly gave his promise ; no thought of the
injustice of such a transaction troubled his conscience. But
what of Savonarola ? How did he regard the proposal ? He
at once rejected it with scorn. Writing to a friend, he said,
"I should consider it by far the greater censure to have
purchased my redemption at such a price."
About this time the Duke of Candia — the Pope's eldest son
— was assassinated by night, and his body thrown into the
Tiber. The wild wail of the bereaved old man was heard,
we are told, in the streets around the Castle of St. Angelo.
Savonarola, the excommunicated Friar, wrote a letter to the
bereaved father — a letter, not of sympathy and condolence,
but of solemn warning and exhortation to repentance. How
characteristic of the Friar ! The things of time were ever, in
his mind, cast into the shade by those of eternity.
The plague was now slaying its thousands. In Florence,
the average deaths were seventy a day. Though forbidden to
visit the sick in the character of a minister of religion, Savo
narola in his own convent did, as its Prior, what he could to
relieve and comfort those entrusted to his care. Taking no
thought for himself, he remained at his post when others fled
to their friends outside the city walls to escape the infection.
Savonarola was indeed well pleased to send away the younger
friars and novices, and among these his own brother, Marco
Aurelio. He delighted to sit by the sick-bed, and read por
tions of Scripture to strengthen the weak and fearful. His
favourite portions were the Lamentations of Jeremiah and the

Tumult on Ascension-day — Wrath of the Pope. 159
histories of Jonah and Samson. Writing to a friend at this
time, he said, " I do all within my power to shield my friars
from this peril. We must trust in the Lord for safety, and not
in flight. Some of the friars here die joyfully, as if they were
going to a festival. Those who help me in the care of the sick
are well." And again a little later, he wrote : " Some number
the daily deaths at one hundred. One sees nothing but cruci
fixes and dead people. We ourselves, thanks be to God, are
well. I have not left Florence, although I have sent away
above seventy of our brethren, for I am not afraid, and I am
desirous to soothe those in trouble."
This terrible disease began to abate about the beginning of
August, and shortly afterwards it quite disappeared. Once
again all was astir within the city— the shops and counting-
houses, the theatres, all places of public resort were as
thronged as before. Once again, too, the Convent of San
Marco was thrown open to the people. On the 15th of the
month, the festival of the Madonna was celebrated within its
walls, by public and solemn thanksgiving to God for His
great goodness in withdrawing the plague from the city.

CHAPTER XX.
Trial of Bernardo del Bero and his
Jteeompliees.

" O Liberty ! Liberty ! How many crimes are committed in thy name ! "
Madame Roland.

It was at this time that a mystery, which had sorely puzzled
the wise heads in Florence, was solved, to the great
satisfaction of some, the sore distress of others. It had been
more than suspected that, at the time of Pietro de Medici's
last attempt to return to Florence, there had been a secret cor
respondence between him and some men of high position and
character in the city. Who these traitors were was not known.
But now, just as the plague was at its height, it all transpired
by means of a letter from Lamberta dell' Antella, who had been
exiled to Rome because of his attachment to the Medici.
This letter was to a friend in Florence, in which Lamberta
promised that, if he were provided with a safe-conduct from
the Signory, he would come to Florence and divulge important
matters of fact.
The safe-conduct not being granted as speedily as Lamberta
expected, overtures were set on foot with a view to purchase
his secret from him. Impatient, however, of delay, he, in an
unguarded moment, ventured to pass the frontier of the Flo
rentine Commonwealth. The result was his immediate arrest.
Carried to Florence, he was at once put to the torture, and
forced to reveal all he knew — and he knew a great deal.

Trial of Bernardo del Nero and his Accomplices. 161
When his disclosures were made public, Florence stood
aghast at the names placed on the list of conspirators : — ¦
Bernardo del Nero, Nicoli Ridolfi, Lorenzo Tornabuoni,
Gianozzi Pucci, and Giovanni Cambi — five of her best and
noblest, arraigned for treason ! These were at once arrested.
Their position was perilous in the extreme. Letters had been
discovered which proved that Bernardo 'del Nero, while he
held office as chief magistrate, had been aware of Pietro's
schemes for his return to Florence. Equally grave and distinct
were the charges laid against Pucci and Tornabuoni, for they
themselves had corresponded with Pietro, by which means he
was duly informed how matters stood towards him in Florence.
To bring these men to trial was a task of immense difficulty
and importance. Their high social position ; their character,
hitherto of unspotted integrity, made it no easy matter even
to suppose them guilty. To evade the painful duty, the
Eight, whose office it was to judge and pass sentence upon
State prisoners, referred the case to the Signory. That body
threw back the odious task upon the Eight, and, in con
sideration of the importance of the issue at stake, allowed them
the assistance of twelve other citizens to help them to discharge
their duty with fidelity.
This board of twenty pronounced the five prisoners guilty
of high treason. The twelve then retired, and left the Eight
to pass upon them sentence of death. These, however, dread
ing the odium sure to follow, tried to throw the responsibility
upon the Signory. Once again that august body steadily
rejected the hateful task. The suggestion was then made to
refer the case to the Great Council. To this the prisoners'
counsel vehemently objected, on the ground that State pri
soners should alone be tried by the Signory. Nevertheless,
the Signory remained firm in their resolve not to take the
matter into their hands. All the prisoners' counsel could
obtain from them was, that the case should be tried, not by the
Great Council, but by a new body of two hundred chosen for

1 62 Savonarola.
that express trial. This was an important point gained. Some
time must elapse before these two hundred could be nomi
nated, and, meanwhile, the present Signory, who would be out
of office before the month had expired, might, they had reason
to hope, be replaced by friends of the accused.
This very heterogeneous body of two hundred was at last
complete. Francesco Valori — the man who, if Bernardo del
Nero were " put away," would undoubtedly be the first man in
Florence — was one of that two hundred. In weighing the
various motives which led to the nomination of that body of
men, Guicciardini does not say one word to lead to the belief
that any of them were chosen because of their peculiar fitness
for the solemn duty to which they were called ; quite the
contrary. Several boards of magistracy composed this assembly of
two hundred ; and at once the Signory decided that each board
should debate the matter in hand, separately, and then declare
its decision. The result was an almost immediate sentence of
condemnation. The prisoners' counsel were all but in despair,
and vehemently asserted that the real sense of the assembly
could only be reached by each individual member voting by
himself. For this they pleaded, with all the earnestness they
could put forth. Keenly alive to the peril of the accused, they
yet hoped that pity — pity for Bernardo, the old man of seventy-
five ; for Nicoli Ridolfi, not much his junior; for Tornabuoni
and Pucci — popular young men, brilliant orators, listened to
with rapturous applause at every meeting where the first
citizens of Florence met to discuss subjects of common in
terest, — they hoped that pity for such men — pity, too, for
Florence herself, should she imbrue her hands in blood so
pure, so noble — would prevail; that not a man of the two
hundred would be found willing to take upon himself the
odium of being the first to record his vote for — death.
Valori saw and felt the position. But, "jealousy is cruel as
the grave," and nerved by the conviction that were Bernardo

Trial of Bernardo del Nero and his Accomplices. 163
¦" put away," he himself would be first man in Florence, he
boldly stepped up to the table where sat the Signory, and
in a voice heard throughout the whole assembly, gave his vote
for "death." The rest of the two hundred, with but a few
exceptions, "followed their leader, like sheep over a hedge."
All seemed lost, until it was remembered that, in accordance
with a law passed in 1495, — from every capital sentence an
appeal must be made to the Great Council. That appeal was,
therefore, now demanded by the counsel for the accused, with
what result, who could foretell?
There was not a shadow of doubt that the law was in favour
of the appeal. But the populace were against the accused, and
with wild cries declared that the Republic was in danger, and
"justice must be done." It was evident that the condemnation
and speedy execution of the prisoners could alone satisfy
Florence, and therefore, yielding to the popular clamour, the
Signory refused permission for the appeal. At this crisis letters
arrived from Rome, affording fresh proof of the prisoners' guilt.
If one ray of hope had been left, it was now extinguished.
Death, and without delay, was unanimously decreed.
And yet, to carry out this sentence was by no means easy.
As each vote for death was recorded before the Signory, it was
accompanied by the usual formula — " Nevertheless, we shall
approve any determination which it shall seem good to your
Lordships to take." These words, though they really meant
nothing, made the Signory hesitate to take the lives of these
five men. The day — a day, too, of fierce excitement — was
nearly spent ; every one felt wearied out — to-morrow would be
soon enough to do the deed. So thought the Signory. Not
so, however, thought Valori. To him the present moment was
all-important. Seizing the balloting box, he struck it violently
on the table, crying out : " Let justice be done ! Let justice
be done ! or there will be trouble here !" There was a
moment's silence. Then he, whose office it was, handed round
the balloting box to his colleagues. Five voted for, three

164 Savonarola.
against, the execution of the sentence. Disappointed, but not
deterred, Valori again rose, and so intimidated the dissentient
voters that, " one after another, they did as he bade them."
During this tumultuous scene, the five prisoners — bare-footed
and in chains — were led by their counsel into the midst of the
assembly, in the hope thus to excite a feeling of pity for their
terrible position. Could it indeed be that men, hitherto loved,
honoured, and respected, were to be sent to the scaffold ? It
was even so. Not a sigh was heaved, not a word of compassion)
was uttered in that vast assembly ; though many amongst them
had, in happier days, held social intercourse with the prisoners i
Unpitied, the five condemned men returned to their cells, and,
the historian tells us, " their heads were struck off at midnight."
The Republican party gained a considerable increase of
power by the result of this trial. Medals were struck with
Savonarola's image on one side, and on the other that of
Rome, over which a hand and dagger were suspended.
Where was Savonarola, and how engaged, during the trial
which convulsed Florence from the highest to the lowest of
her people ?
He was in the convent of San Marco, correcting the proof-
sheets of his "Triumph of the Cross." We do not find it
mentioned in history that he took an active part, either for or
against the accused. He himself says, speaking of Bernardo
del Nero : " I did not advise his death. I should have been
glad had he been sent into exile;" and, alluding to Torna
buoni, he says, " I recommended him, though coldly, to the
mercy of Valori." Machiavelli and Guicciardini both state it
as a fact, that Savonarola had been the instigator of the law,
which required that those condemned to death for offences-
against the State should have the right of appeal to the " Great
Council." They also affirm that he was the principal obstacle
in the way of that right being granted to the prisoners. Villari
denies both these statements, and, on the contrary, affirms that
Savonarola had been the opposer of that law; and he adds

Trial of Bernardo del Nero and his Accomplices. 165
that, even had the Friar wished to interfere for or against the
prisoners, the fact that he himself was under the ban of
excommunication, and that negociations were being carried
on at that very time to have that ban recalled, would have
rendered his efforts powerless.
That Savonarola persuaded himself the welfare of the
Republic demanded the sacrifice of Bernardo and his fellow-
prisoners can scarcely be doubted. What, in his eyes, was the
death of five Mediceans compared to the danger to the Com
monwealth, should the tyrant Pietro return to stifle liberty in
Florence, and foster corruption in the Church ? He had often
(and, we believe, in all honesty of heart) declared himself
ready to die for the establishment of Christ's kingdom upon
earth. Can it be considered strange that he should deem
the removal of others a small matter, if so be that end might
thereby be promoted ? Nevertheless, what the Friar's real
feelings were — whether he had any misgivings of conscience
as he sat within his cell, correcting his proofs, and heard,
from hour to hour, of the struggle, for life on the one hand,
death on the other, that was being carried on within a few
paces from his convent— cannot now be known.

CHAPTER XXI.
The Triumph of the €ross.

" The preaching of the Cross is to them that perish foolishness, but unto-
us which are saved it is the power of God." — I Cor. i. 17.

Savonarola's chief work, "The Triumph of the Cross," — he
himself tells us in the introductory chapter,— was written
"to defend the glorious triumph of the Cross against the
impious volubility of the Sophists and wise men of the world."
The work is a rational defence of Christianity, unassisted by
any appeal to authority or tradition. That such a work, by a
Dominican monk, should have appeared in the fifteenth cen
tury — " the age," as it has been called, " of authority and
intellectual servitude" — is a remarkable fact, a proof that the
writer was far in advance of the times in which he lived.
Savonarola was fully alive to the difficulty of the task he
had entered upon. " It is," he says, " an enterprize beyond
my strength, but I hope God will aid me in a work in these
days so useful, and to His glory." " To examine and expound
the truth of faith by natural reason " was the object of the
book. " Not," says the writer, " that faith needs to depend
upon proofs;" for, says the Apostle, "faith is a gift which
God bestows on man through grace alone, lest any one should
boast." His design was rather "to confirm those who hesitate,
and dispose them to receive the supernatural gift of faith ;"
and at the same time " to arm the faithful against the assaults
of impiety." With respect to the objection sometimes urged,

The Triumph of the Cross. 167
that " faith has no merit when it is demonstrated by human
reason," Savonarola replies : " The prince of Apostles exhorts
us to do this when he says, 'Sanctify the Lord God in
your hearts, and be ready, always, to give an answer to every
man that asketh you a reason of the hope which is in you.'
Therefore," he continues, " as we wish in this book to proceed
only by reasoning, we shall invoke no authority, but proceed
as if it were only necessary to believe in our own reason and
experience. Reason," he says, " proceeds from things visible
to things invisible ; for all our knowledge is derived from the
senses, which know that only which is extrinsic ; the intellect
penetrates the substance of things, and from what it reveals we
rise to a knowledge of things invisible and of God. Now, as
philosophers endeavour to find God in the rparvellous and
invisible operations of Nature ; so we, in the visible Church,
seek to find the Invisible and Supreme Head of it — -Jesus
Christ As philosophers collect together, as in a picture, all
the operations and all the existences in creation, the better to
recognise in them their Divine Author ; so we desire to bring
together all the visible works of Christ and of His Church in
one single image, in order that their Divine nature may the
more easily be seen to shine forth."
This "image," so often brought forward in Savonarola's
sermons, is a mystical chariot traversing the world in triumph.
" Let us picture to ourselves," he says, " Christ seated in this
chariot, borne in triumph, yet crowned with thorns, and showing,
after having conquered the pains of death, the sacred wounds
of His pale and bleeding body — the arms with which He has
subdued the world and led captivity captive. Let there shine
on His head a triple sun, representing the Holy Trinity ; let
that radiant globe shed an ineffable splendour over Christ and
His Church ; let Christ bear in His left hand His cross and all
instruments of His passion, and press with His right hand the
books of the Old and New Testaments. Let apostles and
preachers march immediately before the chariot as if they were

1 68 Savonarola.
drawing it — preceded by patriarchs, prophets, and an innu
merable crowd of Old Testament saints. Let the multitude of
the faithful and of the martyrs surround that triumphal chariot,
and around them holy doctors with their books open in their
hands, followed by an immense multitude of every rank and
nation — Jews, Greeks, Latins, barbarians, learned and ignorant
of every age — applauding the triumph of Christ. And behind
this triumphal chariot, let there be seen the enemies of Christ,
the persecutors of His Church ; the emperors, kings, princes of
the mighty of this age ; the sages, the philosophers, the heretics,
and the wicked of all nations and tongues ; slaves and free,
men and women. And near this crowd let there be the relics
and the idols of the gods, reversed and destroyed ; the heretical
cooks given up to the flames, their impious dogmas confounded,
and their false worship reduced to nothing."
We can only give a few extracts from this remarkable book.
Respecting " Worship," Savonarola says, " Every form of reli
gion has two kinds of worship — the one, external, the other
infinitely more noble : that internal worship which manifests
itself in a good life, and is the greatest homage, the most true
adoration which a creature can pay to his Creator;" and again :
" The true integral worship of God consists in the life and acts
of the perfect man, and in the offering up to God of that life
and its acts."
Concerning the excellence aimed at by the Christian, we
read : — " Now God, the greatest Being, the most perfect, is the
end towards which the Christian life tends, and in which it
reposes in complete happiness. All the acts of a Christian life
tend to that. Could there be a more excellent end ? Faith
proposes to itself, as an end, the vision of God and the enjoy
ment of God, not in His creation, but in Himself — in His proper
essence. Can we conceive a more perfect aim? There is
nothing more sublime than that end, for there is nothing
more sublime than God."
When seeking to prove that "the Christian doctrine, the

The Triumph of the Cross. i6g
object of our faith, comes from God;" Savonarola says : "We
know that it is impossible to foretell the future, whether by way
of experience or of doctrine. Hence, even the most illustrious
of philosophers attributed that knowledge to God alone. . . .
God alone has the power to signify the future by the present.
Now, we see in the Sacred Literature that the whole of the
New Testament has been prefigured in the Old. It is not pos
sible to say that it is an interpretation invented by Christians,
and arranged according to pleasure. It would have been
impossible without the aid of an intelligent pre-vision, to
establish in the two Testaments such an agreement of words,
deeds, authors, and of different times. This agreement is no
work of hazard, for we remark in it nothing clashing or strange ;
on the contrary, every part is admirably bound together. What
is obscure in one place is cleared by another, so that the Holy
Scripture, as a whole, serves as a commentary on each of its
parts  Let all those who desire to know the truth, read
the Holy Scriptures with piety, with humility, with purity of
heart, and they will certainly join with us in this opinion."
Again, upon this same subject, we find these striking re
marks : — " The mode of language and development of Holy
Scripture is so original, that it is inimitable to even the wisest
and most worthy Christians. The inspiration of one and the
same Spirit could alone have given to so many different authors
the same form of discourse. For, in spite of the difference of
time, of education, and of genius, the style of Scripture is
always the same, which similarity could only come from God."
Alluding to those preachers who neglected the Scriptures for
" philosophy and the art of rhetoric," Savonarola says : " God
is my witness that, whenever I have felt inclined to employ in
my sermons the subtleties of philosophy and the fine discourses
of human wisdom, in order to convey some knowledge of the
profundity of the Divine Word, I have observed in my audi
ence signs of impatience and weariness, not only amongst the
ignorant but even amongst educated men, who only lent a
12

170 Savonarola.
distracted attention to my words. But, on every occasion,
when, on the contrary, I had recourse to the majesty of the
Holy Scriptures, either interpreting their sense or reciting the
deeds they contain, they all listened with a marvellous atten
tion, and remained before me motionless as statues." 
"Such is the doctrine which is said to be 'sharper than a
two-edged sword,' which has illumined the whole world with
virtue ; which has overturned the worship of demons and the
sacrilegious oracles of idols ; and which, putting to flight
innumerable errors, has worked marvels."
Concerning prayer as being " one aliment of the Christian
life," we read : — " All those who make progress in virtue pray
frequently ; by assiduous prayer they fix their will upon God,
and all things in this world appear to them empty and despic
able. And this is not only attained by the wise and learned)
but by the poor and simple ; and it is easy to draw from this
a proof in favour of our faith. Besides, Christians, in their
prayers, addressing God through Jesus Christ, adding at the
end of their prayer, 'for the sake of our Lord Jesus Christ?
obtain from God singular forms of grace." Speaking of Christ,
the object of our faith, he says : — " If Christ be not God, to
believe and confess Him to be God, would be a supreme
impiety and blasphemy." And then he draws this conclusion,
that — " as Christians pray to God through Christ, whom they
believe to be God, God would assuredly draw them from such
an error, if it were an error," and not " make Himself an accom
plice, by granting to them the favours they demand of Him."
Having devoted a large portion of his work to prove that
the power, wisdom, and goodness of Christ evidence the truth
of the Christian faith, Savonarola proceeds to consider doc
trines which are " above, but not contrary to reason, whether
upon creation or the sanctification of the reasonable creature."
"The Christian religion," he says, "speaks reasonably upon
the subject of those who are eternally lost. Why?" he asks
" should it be thought unreasonable that, as human justice is

The Triumph of the Cross. iji
exercised in the city of man, so Divine justice should be
exercised in the city of God ? "
Concerning the Incarnation, he observes, that " it presents
nothing impossible or unreasonable, though, amongst created
things, nothing can be compared to this mysterious union —
God and man together — the Divine nature and the human."
The doctrine of " Original sin, which vitiates the whole
human race," our author pronounces to be " not contrary to
reason," and the same of other doctrines " not capable of being
explained " by reason.
Respecting the Eucharist — the Sacrament of the Lord's
Supper — Savonarola affirms that " under the appearance of
bread, however small it may be, the body of Christ is con
tained wholly and entire ; and that under the species of wine,
however small, the blood of Christ is present, wholly and
entire ; " and also, that " at the same time Christ is in heaven,
wholly and entire ; " whence, he says, " it follows that, by the
consecration, Christ can be in the Sacrament of the Eucharist
only in two modes." First, by the conversion of the bread
into the body of Christ, and of the wine into His blood.
Secondly, by a local presence. Having argued the matter
with "unbelievers," who object to the first, "because," say
they, " nothing can be changed into a thing already existing ; "
he shows that they who accept the second, accept that which
" is none the less impossible than the preceding, for either
Christ would be at one time in two different places — in heaven
and in the Sacrament — or, He would quit heaven to appear in
the Sacrament." Having cleared the way for the declaration
of that which he falsely believed to be the true doctrine, Savo
narola says : " The ineffable power of God infinitely surpasses
our feeble conceptions ; things which are utterly impossible to
our strength and to nature alone are easy to God." . . . We
say, then, that the body and blood of Christ are present in the
Eucharist by virtue of consecration, not by a local presence, but
by conversion. Christ is not there present as in a place; He

172 Savonarola.
is only present as in a place in heaven. In the Eucharist He
is present sacramentally, and in a manner invisible ; whence it
follows that He is wholly entire under each parcel separate
from the others ; for He is not in the Sacrament according
to the laws of extent, but in a manner more admirable, and
possible only to God."
Having reviewed the different subjects discussed in this book,
Savonarola thus concludes : — " Christianity alone remains,
confirmed and ratified by the double power and light of nature
and grace — by the holy life of Christians — by wisdom, works,
and miracles which nourish the mind ; therefore it is Divine.
What man will not embrace that religion ? Who will attack
it without folly? Approved by God, preserved through so
many centuries, maintained in spite of persecutions, sealed
by the blood of martyrs ; yea, that faith is Divine ! If, then,
we have not lost all our understanding, we must believe that
the faith of Jesus Christ is the true faith ; that there is another
life when we shall appear in person before the tribunal of that
formidable Judge, who will place the wicked on His left hand
in torments, like impure goats ; and the good on His right
hand in felicity, like sacred sheep, and will give them the
privilege of seeing God face to face — God Triune and One,
profound, ineffable — in whom the saints will eternally possess
all blessedness, by the grace of the invincible and triumphant
Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, to whom be honour, power,
empire, and glory, through all ages. Amen."

CHAPTER XXII.
Trouble upon Trouble— ^arniual at HQ$,

Weep for the wrongs Religion hath endured,
Ye elders, grouped around the eternal throne;
Apostles, saints, disciples of the Lord,
Angels of God, evangelists, look down ;
Martyrs weep tears of blood ; nor is there one
Of all the stars and planets, unrestrained
In their fleet course, exulting in each zone
(To speak as mortals speak), that is not pained
To see the temple soiled and the white marble stained.
Girolamo Savonarola.

The dispute betweeen Savonarola and the Pope waxed worse
and worse, and proved a source of sore anxiety both to
the government and the people. The Signory who, during the
remaining six months of this year (1497) were of the popular
party, wrote frequently, but without effect, to their ambassador
at Rome, to "knock incessantly at the door, and never cease to
entreat His Holiness to recall the Bull of Excommunication."
But, far from intending to release the Friar, Alexander was
plotting how to secure him more firmly in his net. In the
meantime, the object of his hatred remained for the most part
within his cell, writing for the press, vehement protestations
against his "illegal" excommunication to which, just because
it was illegal, he did not consider himself bound to submit.
And undoubtedly, had Savonarola avowedly shaken off the
yoke of Rome, and asserted his right to obey the dictates of
conscience — enlightened by Holy Scripture — as Luther did a

1 74 Savonarola.
quarter of a century later ; had he done this, we could under
stand him when he refused to yield obedience even to the
Pope himself. But, so long as he remained, confessedly, a
faithful son of the Church of which the Pope was the head,
we cannot wonder that, as Guicciardini says, "his disobe
dience appeared a very serious matter, and inconsistent with
the character of a true Christian." Several of his disciples
now left him, while a number of dissolute young men, shocked
at the Friar's inconsistency ! formed themselves into an asso
ciation, of which Dolfo Spini, his avowed enemy, was the
leader — their object being "to sup together frequently, for the
support of true religion, and concert every possible means
by which to put down the excommunicated Friar." So says
Guicciardini, and he adds, " Every one lived in fear of these
violent, roystering companions."
Having in vain tried, by soft words, to reduce the rebellious
monk to obedience, the Pope, on the 18th of October, threw
off the mask for ever. A Bull, prohibiting him to preach " in
San Marco or elsewhere," because he had " declared himself
to be a man sent from God, and speaking in His name — a
claim which ought to be confirmed by miracle " — was issued,
and enforced under such stringent terms, that Savonarola
seemed to be left no alternative, but to submit with all hu
mility, or, like the great German reformer, burn the Bull.
But he did neither the one nor the other.
And now, " from this time," says Guicciardini, " Fra Giro
lamo continued to go down in the world." The Signory, early
in November, made one more effort in his behalf, but in vain.
The Pope would not recall the Bull, and, more important in
the eyes of many, as affecting the interests of the Republic, he
refused to enter into the consideration of any matter under
debate between Florence and the Court of Rome, until Savo
narola should be delivered into his hands ; to which require
ment the Signory would not concede.
On Christmas-day, after six months' silence (the time seemed

Trouble upon Trouble — Carnival of 1498. 175
longer to the Friar and to his friends), Savonarola, in open
defiance of the excommunication, celebrated mass three times
in San Marco, and administered the Sacrament to his brethren,
and many others besides; after which he led a solemn pro
cession of monks and friars through the convent cloisters.
The Signory (still of his party) granted him permission, on the
1 st of February, to resume his Lent sermons in the Duomo.
So now, once more, he ascended the pulpit ; and there, not
withstanding the published circular of Lionardo de Medici,
Archbishop of Florence, forbidding "all and everyone" to
attend the church, and warning the parish priests to watch lest
their flocks should stray away to " the son of perdition," and
thus cut themselves off from the rites of the Church — the
Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, confession, and burial in
consecrated ground ; — notwithstanding all this, the Duomo
was full to overflowing, and the preacher more startling in his
denunciation of the sins of the clergy, and of the Pope himself.
Plunging at once into his subject — Excommunication, the
authority of the Pope, and freedom of conscience — he used
arguments such as certainly could not have been expected from
one who styled himself a " faithful son " of the Church of Rome.
"When the authority appointed by God," he said, "severs
himself from God, he is then as a broken tool, and is no longer
entitled to claim our obedience." And again : " Our perfec
tion does not consist in faith or in the law, but in charity, and
he alone who possesses this, knows that which is necessary to
salvation. Whoever, therefore, shall command anything con
trary to charity, which is the fulness of the law, let him be
anathema. Were it even an angel who said it, were all the
saints and the Virgin Mary (which certainly is not possible)
to say so, let them be anathematized ; and if any Pope has
ever spoken in contradiction to what I am now saying, let him
be excommunicated."
Again he observes : " Some among you are afraid that,
although this excommunication be null in the sight of God, it

176 Savonarola.
may be valid in the eye of the Church. For me, it is sufficient
that T am not bound by it, but by Christ. Shall I tell you,"
he asked, " how absolution is to be obtained ? Ah, it were
better for me to be silent. But this much I will tell you.
This is the way," and, as he spoke, he struck two keys together,
so as to imitate the clinking of money, thereby implying that
money could purchase absolution in the Church of his day.
It was not strange that Alexander vi. should feel uneasy
when these doctrines were preached on the house-top, and
by one under the terrible ban of excommunication. If
Savonarola failed to reform the Church, he shook it to its
very foundation.
Shortly after this sermon, he lectured in San Marco on the
duties and the character of the priesthood, closing with these
thrilling sentences : "When I think of the life led by priests,
I cannot refrain from tears. ... O my brethren ! my sons ! I
pray you to weep over their vices, that the Lord may, for
the sake of His Church, bring the priests to repentance ; for
all must see that a great scourge is hanging over them. In
Rome they make a mockery of Christ and of the saints ; they
are worse than the Turks and the Moors . . . they even make a
traffic of the sacraments. Do you think," he asks, " that Jesus
Christ will endure this ? Woe, woe to Italy and to Rome I
Come forth — come forth from the midst of her, ye priests ;
let us see, my brethren, whether we cannot, in some degree,
revive the Word of God." Then, as if speaking to God, he
exclaimed : " Oh, Father ! we shall be put to death : we shall
be sent to prison ; we shall be persecuted and put to death. . . .
Be it so ; let them do as they will, they cannot tear Christ from
my heart ; my desire is to die for my God ! "
In his sermon, preached on Sexagesima Sunday, this year,
we find these sentiments concerning the Pope and his autho
rity : " I take it for granted that there is no man who is not
liable to err. We have had many Popes who have gone astray.
If it were true that the Pope can do no wrong, we need but

Trouble upon Trouble — Carnival of 1498. 177
follow his example, and be saved. You will perhaps say that
so far as the Pope is a man, he may do wrong, but not in his
character as Pope, and I reply : ' The Pope may err in his
ecclesiastical censures and judgments. How many have been
the laws made by one Pope and violated by another ? How
many opinions held by one, and repudiated by another ? ' "
The Carnival of this year was very different from its prede
cessor. True, there was a vast consumption of " vanities " in
the Piazza. But the " angels " commissioned to collect them
had been roughly handled by the Compagnacci and others like
minded. There was an enormous figure of Lucifer placed on
the top of the bonfire, and encircled by representations of the
seven mortal sins, and, just as the match was put to the huge
pile, the crowd closed in around, and chanted the Te Deum,
while the smoke and flames ascended high above their heads.
The alms collected were then, as in the previous year, carried
in procession to the " Buonuomini di San Martino " ; after
which monks, friars, and laymen proceeded to San Marco, where
they planted a crucifix, round which they danced in wild excite
ment, while psalms and hymns were chanted. Thus closed the
Carnival of 1498. Its consequences were long remembered by
both friends and foes of Savonarola.
In truth, the Friar's late sermons and the scenes enacted at
this Carnival could not but strengthen the hostility of his
enemies. Rome was furious against him, and he more furious
than ever against Rome. His early sermons during Lent,
having been sent to the Pope, he immediately issued a Bull,
threatening to make the " worm of a preaching Friar " feel the
full weight of his wrath. Nevertheless, these very sermons
were printed, widely circulated, and devoured by the people,
not only in Florence, but in other parts of Italy, and even
beyond the Alps. A struggle to the death between the
indomitable Friar and Catholic authority has begun.
"They begin at Rome to hear something of the new
preaching, and I do not doubt that we shall come to blows,'

178 Savonarola.
wrote Strozzi from Rome. And Bonsi, the Florentine am
bassador, writing in the same strain, says : "lam assailed by
a multitude of cardinals and prelates, all of whom blame the
Signory, and declare that the rage of the Pope is terrific. You
have many enenies here who are blowing the fire."
The most active of these was Mariano Gennezzano, who
had long since sworn to take vengeance upon his former rival in
oratory. His private accusations against Savonarola appeared
so important, that the Pope desired him to state them from
the pulpit. With joyful alacrity he obeyed. But so low and
personal was the style of his discourse, that his audience were
disgusted, and the cardinals, who had expected to be edified,
repeatedly shook their heads in token of displeasure.
A fresh command to the Signory to forbid Savonarola's
preaching was now issued from Rome. The Pope's letter said,
" If you refuse obedience to this command, then, that the
dignity and authority of the Holy See may be maintained, we
shall be forced to pass an interdict upon your city, and to have
recourse to other measures still more effective." Thus wrote
the " Vicar of Christ " ! But, calm amid the storm, the object
of his wrath continued to preach in San Marco.
After three successive Signories favourable to Savonarola, one
mostly hostile to him was elected early in March ; only three
of the nine members were on his side. Full of hope, the Pope
renewed his command to have the rebellious monk delivered
into his hands. To his surprise the Signory refused to obey —
not from sympathy with Savonarola or with his doctrines, but
because he, being by adoption a Florentine citizen, it would be
a slight upon the independence of the Commonwealth were he
allowed to be judged by a foreign jurisdiction — lay or clerical.
To screen the Signory from the odium sure to follow, were
they to take it on themselves to resist the Pope's order, an
assembly of magistrates met to deliberate upon the difficult
question. Not a few in that assembly, scandalized at the
Friar's continued obstinacy, urged the imperative duty of

Trouble upon Trouble — Carnival of 1498. 179
¦doing all "for the honour of God"; or, in other words, "in
obedience to the Pope." But these were in the minority. To
the meeting at large, the honour of the Commonwealth was
-quite as dear as " the honour of God "—i.e., the Pope— and
with cunning wisdom they suggested that, were the Friar pro
hibited from preaching in the Duomo, and limited to San
Marco, due honour might thus be paid both to God and the
Commonwealth. Thus matters were decided, and Savonarola continued his
sermons in San Marco ; but the Pope was not satisfied, and
letter after letter arrived from Rome, expressing his indignation ;
marvelling, too, how " the Signory could, so far, have forgotten
what was due to him and to themselves, as to aid and abet
the contemptible reptile." Each letter reiterated the com
mand for Savonarola to appear at Rome, there " to answer the
charges brought against him, and to purge himself of his con
tumacy." The " mercy of the Mother Church " was promised,
should he recant. But, if not, the Holy Father was " deter
mined to resort to the most extreme measures against him."
And further, were he not obeyed, the Pope declared that he
¦" would confiscate all property belonging to Florentine citizens
in Rome, forbid his subjects to have any dealings with the
Commonwealth, and impose the same restrictions on other
nations on pain of interdict !"
Still, the Signory refused to send the Friar to Rome. They,
however, now forbade his preaching even in San Marco. Upon
receiving this intelligence, the Pope wrote back a letter " full
of joyful contentment." No doubt he perceived that the
.stiffnecked people of Florence would not further yield to him.
Before receiving the order imposing silence, but, evidently,
after the magistrates had passed it, Savonarola preached a
tenderly affectionate sermon exclusively to women. It is
described as "almost a hymn of praise to the Lord," though
tinged with sorrow. "Lord," he said, "we ask not tran
quillity from Thee, not that tribulation shall cease but we do

180 Savonarola.
ask for the Spirit, we ask for Thy love. Grant unto us grati
tude and grace to overcome adversity. We would that Thy
love should descend upon earth. Thou seest that the wicked
become even more wicked and incorrigible; stretch forth,
then, Thy hand and Thy power; nothing remains for me
but to weep."
That same evening, the dreaded but expected order came
from the Signory. Savonarola said to the messenger, "You
come, I presume, from your masters." " Certainly, from
their Lordships, the Signory," was the reply. "I also,"
rejoined Savonarola, "must consult my Lord. To-morrow you
shall receive my answer." The following day, March 18th, he
preached for the last time, told his audience of the order just
received, and expressed his determination to obey it. " These
are evil tidings for Florence," he said. " Misfortunes are about
to fall on her ; ye fear the interdict, but the Lord will send an
interdict which will cause the wicked to lose both goods and
life. . . . When the whole ecclesiastical power is corrupt, you
must turn to Christ, who is the First Cause, and say, ' Thou
art my Confessor, Bishop, and Pope.' "
It was thus that the Prior of San Marco's preaching came to-
an end, for the two or three addresses which he gave afterwards
can scarcely be called sermons. For eight consecutive years-
he had, as we learn from himself (and as he had himself fore
told when he began to preach), continued in Florence, with few
and short intervals of absence ; and, during that whole period,.
he was emphatically the preacher of the day. Not a single
day, during Advent and Lent of those years, did he omit to-
preach, and in the intervals he preached on festival days. To
quote his own words — he " could not live without preaching,"
and spent his life and strength proclaiming doctrines which he
deemed to be essential to salvation, and denouncing sins which
he believed to be abomination in the sight of God. In very
truth, Savonarola was a preacher of righteousness, in an age the
most corrupt, and in a Church sunk in the very depths of un-

Trouble upon Trouble — Carnival of 1498. 181
righteousness. But, with all his holiness, zeal, and devotion
to truth — as he found it in the Scriptures of Truth — and his
self-sacrificing energy in pressing that truth home to the hearts
of his hearers, his preaching was defective. Why ? Because
it did not reach the root of the evil ; and so, while overthrow
ing much, he effected little actual good.
The great German Reformer began, it is true, as Savonarola
did, by attacking practical abuses ; but he did not stop there.
As he studied Scripture, and his own heart by the light of
Scripture, he discerned that the disease lay deep within the
Church, within the heart of man ; that the hideous iniquity —
the gross corruption outwardly manifested — were but the plague-
spots indicating the malignant nature of the malady. The felt
need of personal salvation, and the assurance that he had
obtained it, when the Spirit revealed to him that " the just shall
live by faith," constituted the very soul of Luther's life and of
his work, — therein lay the secret of his power. He had tried
many a broken cistern — works of penance, obedience to the
Church ; but all had failed to speak peace to his conscience, to
give his weary spirit rest. This was Luther's experience ; and
having fought, and won, the battle within his own heart — not
in his own strength, but through faith in Christ, the Captain of
his salvation — he, in his teaching, spoke that which he knew,
testified of that which God Himself had taught him. Luther
spoke and wrote at least as freely and fervently of the love
of God for sinners, as of His wrath against sin ; His was,
emphatically, a " ministry of reconciliation."
Not so that of the Florentine Reformer. Too one-sided
in its character, his preaching dwelt rather on the tremendous
consequences of sin, than on the remedy for sin — Christ's atone
ment offered on Calvary, which, while it has procured for man
freedom from the penalty of sin, is also the means by which he
is freed from the power of sin.
We do not wonder that Savonarola failed to apprehend this
clearly himself. His coming short in this and other points of

1 82 Savonarola.
doctrine should be read in the light of the days in which he
lived ; when the light was as darkness — the days of the three
worst Popes that ever filled the papal chair. We rather marvel
at the knowledge of truth and purity to which he did attain ;
and may in very truth take shame to ourselves for our tmiahn-
fulness with our " many things," when we mark his faithfulness
with his "few things."
But his grand work was a failure ; partly, because he sought
to reform the State as well as the Church ; partly, because he
gave forth his prophetic announcements as of equal authority
with God's own Word; and partly, because of his defective
views of the Gospel of Christ, on the one hand, and of the
antagonistic character of the teaching of Rome to that Gospel,
on the other.

CHAPTER XXIII.
The Ordeal hu fire.

"It is written — Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God."
St. Matt. iv.

O avonarola's controversy with the Pope was not a mere
--' personal matter. Though the issue should be, as he
fully expected, death to himself, it was not that which troubled
him ; it was the state of the Church, of which the infamous
Alexander vi. was counted the head, that vexed his righteous
soul, and made him all the more earnestly long for his deposi
tion. But in order to this, a General Council must be called ;
and, as already stated, Savonarola had, though without effect,
taken steps in that direction. At this Council, whenever it
should assemble, he intended to plead his own cause, being in
possession of documents which would, he said, "startle the
world upon the state of things at Rome."
Aware that, by a decree passed at the Council of Constance,
the Pope was bound to summon a general council every ten
years, and that, should he neglect to do this, authority was given
to the Sovereign power to act in his stead, Savonarola now
took up his pen. With all the power of eloquence and of
argument he could command, he urged upon the Emperor, and
the kings of England, France, Spain and Hungary, the duty
of calling this Council " to reform the Church and depose a
Pope, who was in reality no Pope." He also wrote a special
letter to Charles vm. of France, urging him, for the second
time, to take the lead in this great work.

184 Savonarola.
This letter never reached Charles : the messenger who had
it in charge was arrested on his way to France by agents of
II Moro. His papers, taken from him, were immediately sent
to the Pope, whose rage at these " machinations of the excom
municated Friar " was unbounded. He was now in possession
of undoubted proof of his " audacious intentions," and saw
plainly that the " reptile," whom he had failed to crush, was
likely to prove a formidable enemy.
Threatened from every quarter, Savonarola was now deserted
by many of his followers. Some fled from the city, others hid
themselves until the storm should blow over or abate. Mean
while, II Moro's spies sent minute details of the progress of
events to Milan ; and while the political horizon abroad daily
grew more dark and lowering, a change of government was
confidently expected in Florence, when wonderful disclosures
should be made public. It was at this crisis — when people of
all classes, and of every shade of opinion, were looking with
out for something of unusual excitement — that an incident,
extraordinary and unexpected, occurred within Florence,
which largely helped to cast reproach upon the Friar, and
bring his story to an end.
It can scarcely be wondered at, that the power and influence
of the great Dominican should have made him, more or less,
an object of jealousy to the other Orders of Friars, and espe
cially to the Franciscans ; and now that he had begun " to go
down in the world," now that his name was cast out as evil
because of his opposition to the ruling powers, the Friars of
St. Francis thought this a fitting opportunity to bring honour
upon themselves in the eyes of all true and loyal sons of
the Church, by "confounding and silencing the rebellious
Dominican Prior of San Marco."
Indeed, for above a year past, Francesco di Puglia, a Fran
ciscan friar, had condemned Savonarola himself and his doc
trines from the pulpit No notice, however, was taken of his
attacks. It did not trouble Savonarola that he should be

The Ordeal by Fire. 185
termed a "heretic, schismatic, pretended prophet," when he
knew the accusation was false. Bent upon war, Francesco,
after a time, challenged him to pass, unharmed, through a
burning pile, and thus prove the truth of his doctrine. The
challenge was not accepted by Savonarola ; but it so happened
that his friend Domenico being present at one of the Francis
can's discourses, and considering himself to be included in the
challenge, eagerly and confidently accepted it. But, no sooner
had he done so than the Franciscan drew back, saying he had
"business elsewhere." All this had happened the previous
year, and seemed to have been forgotten. But now that
Florence was turning her back upon her former idol, the crafty
Franciscan felt encouraged to renew his challenge in Santa
Croce, the church of his Order.
Then Domenico, girding himself for battle, declared his
readiness to enter the fire, in support of his Master's three
celebrated " conclusions " —
1. The Church of God needs renovation. It shall be
scourged, then renewed.
2. Florence, also, shall be scourged; then restored to
prosperity. 3. The unbelievers shall be converted to Christ.
To these propositions Domenico added from himself : " All
these things shall happen in our days ; and the recent ex
communication fulminated against the very reverend Friar
Girolamo is null, and those who disobey its injunctions do
not sin."
Strange to say, Savonarola from the first objected to this
proposed ordeal by fire. No doubt, common sense might
justly have led him to reject it. Yet, as he had previously
himself suggested other miraculous experiments in proof of the
truth of his doctrines, it is not easy to account for his opposi
tion to this ordeal. His inconsistency must have struck many
who recollected his sermon in San Marco, preached not many
13

1 86 Savonarola.
months before, when he announced that on the first day of the
Carnival he would, if any one of his adversaries would do like
wise, go forth with the Sacrament in his hand, and solemnly
call upon God to send down fire from heaven to consume
whichever — he himself or his antagonist — was in error. And
this was no vain boast. Burlamacchi tells us that when that
day arrived, Savonarola, having said mass in San Marco, went
out in his officiating dress, carrying the Host, and ascended
the pulpit in the Piazza, already filled with thousands eager to
witness a miracle. But first came the sermon — very different,
indeed, from those of former days; no burst of eloquence
startled his hearers, or roused within himself the power that
was departing from him. Leaning over the pulpit, he said,
" If I have said anything to you, citizens of Florence, in the
name of God, which was not true ; if the apostolical censure
pronounced against me is valid ; if I have deceived anyone ;
pray to God that He will send fire from heaven upon me, and
consume me in presence of the people ; and I pray our Lord
God, Three in One, whose body I hold in this blessed Sacra
ment, to send death to me in this place, if I have not preached
the truth."
For half an hour the people prayed and waited for this sign
from heaven, but it came not. With what feelings Savonarola
and his brethren returned to their convent, chanting a Te
Deum, who can tell ? Did it satisfy him who had implored
to be "burned up if he were false," that no fire was sent to
prove that he was false ? We cannot think so. And probably
it was from a sense of disappointment felt at that time, that
the Friar shortly afterwards made another equally strange and
foolish proposal.
This was a challenge to the Franciscans to accompany him
to a neighbouring cemetery, and there raise the dead ! It was
declined, but may it not have suggested to these Franciscans
to demand again the ordeal by fire ? — a challenge made with
no honest intention to fulfil their part in it, but in the hope

The Ordeal by Fire. 187
that their opponent, whose faith, appeared equal to any strain
to which it might be subjected, would readily take up the
gauntlet, and perish in the flames.
But he did not take it up. Savonarola, as already stated
set his face from the first against the ordeal ; while, as we have
seen, his friend Domenico accepted the challenge. Having
done so, Domenico was not the man to draw back ; and the
matter had assumed a serious aspect before Savonarola appears
to have given it much consideration. For his own part, he
said he had " too much to do to waste time in such foolish
vagaries." What a pity he did not see, with equal clearness,
the folly, the wickedness, of similar tests so recently suggested
by himself ! Perhaps his having already failed to call down a
miracle may have taught him the absurdity of expecting one
now. And yet, his biographer, Burlamacchi, affirms that, after
frequent refusals, Savonarola declared himself ready to enter
the fire, " provided the Pope's legate and the ambassadors of
Christian princes should witness the ordeal," and moreover,
" solemnly promise that, if he came out unhurt, they would at
once, under Divine guidance, set about a general reformation
of the Church."
With respect to the Pope's bull of excommunication, Savo
narola distinctly denied there being any necessity for the
ordeal to prove that it was invalid. " Why should we enter
the fire to prove that?" he asked. "Have we not, over and
over again, shown by argument that it is null ?"
Whether these arguments satisfied Savonarola himself is
doubtful ; that they did not satisfy others, and especially his
adversaries, need not surprise us.
To return to the ordeal. When Francesco saw that his old
antagonist, Domenico, was determined to brave the fire, he
became increasingly anxious to back out of the business.
With this intent he declared that his challenge was originally
addressed, not to Domenico, but to Savonarola; and that
with the Friar himself, and he only, would he have anything to

1 88 Savonarola.
do. Having made this declaration as public as he could,
Francesco rejoiced at his clever escape from the meshes of his
own weaving.
But he was not yet " out of the wood." The Compagnacci, at
one of their evening entertainments for " the support of true
religion and the overthrow of the Friar," thus argued the matter
in hand : they said, " If Savonarola enters the fire he is sure
to be burned ; if he decline to do so, he will lose credit with
the people, and give us an opportunity to get up a riot, which
will end in his capture." To promote the ordeal was, there
fore, their aim, and for this they asked, and obtained. 7the help
of the Signory ; their notary immediately issued a copy of the
disputed " Conclusions," which all — who wished to maintain
and defend them by the ordeal by fire — were invited to sign.
Domenico instantly signed them. Francesco refused, on the
plea that his proposal was to pass through the fire with Savo
narola, not with his subordinate, Domenico. In vain the
Signory assured him that not a hair of his head should be even
singed ; that their sole object was to create a disturbance,
under cover of which Savonarola might be captured, possibly
killed. The trembling monk could not view the matter from
that comfortable point of view. Finally, however, he consented
to sign a declaration to this effect— that he would enter the fire
provided Savonarola would pledge himself to enter it at the
same moment ; and this, he expressly said, he consented to
do " at the request of the Signory."
"Assuredly," thought the Franciscan, as he signed this
declaration, " Fra Girolamo has too much common sense to
enter the burning pile ; I need have no fear on that head."
As to Domenico, he regarded him as a half-witted enthusiast,
or possibly, so deeply dyed a fanatic as to be ready to sacrifice
his life in the cause of his master. The faint-heartedness of
Francesco alarmed the Compagnacci, and, lest their plot
should fail, they advised him to induce his brother-monk Fra
Giuliano Rondinelli, to take his place in the ordeal with

The Ordeal by Fire. 189
Domenico. Rondinelli consented, declaring, as he did so,
that he "knew he should be burned," but that he ventured
his life " for the salvation of souls." Upon this, Fra Mariano,
a friar of San Marco, and one or two others, determined not to
be outdone by the Franciscans, boldly declared their readiness
also to pass through the fire. From the present aspect of
affairs it would therefore seem that the actors in this dis
graceful scene will not be the original challenger — Francesco
di Puglia — and he — Domenico — who so joyfully accepted the
challenge, but the latter, in his own proper person, and
Giuliano, the unfortunate scapegoat, whom the wily Francesco
has prevailed upon to carry out the dreadful farce in his stead.
There were in Florence men, sober-minded enough to dis
approve, and openly express their disapproval, of this ordeal.
" This is an affair for priests," said one, " and ought rather to
be discussed at Rome ; but if the ordeal do take place, will it
really put an end to disturbance in our city ? If so, let us go,
not only through fire, but through water, air, earth. Let us
think of our city, and not of friars." It was Carlo Caringiani
¦ — a Florentine citizen of note — who thus spoke. When he sat
down, another, like minded, rose, and, with tears, exclaimed :
" When I think on the present state of things, I know not
whether to desire life or death. Certain it is that if our fore
fathers, the founders of our city, could have foreseen these
things — that we should be the sport and the contempt of the
whole world — they would have disdained to have anything to
do with it. I therefore beseech your Excellencies (the Signory)
to put a stop to this affair."
But the sober-minded were in the minority, and, alas ! there
were, there must have been, many who saw clearly the
absurdity of the ordeal as a test of truth — who, from
motives the most wicked, yet wished for it. The Pope
was eager for it ; the Arrabbiati and the Compagnacci equally
so. The Signory, for their own ends, desired it; while the
Piagnoni loudly called for it, not having a shadow of doubt

190 Savonarola.
that, when the moment of trial came, Savonarola would lead the
way into the midst of the flames, and, followed by his faithful
Domenico — who, they calculated, would not leave his master
— both would come forth unscathed, with no smell of fire on
them. Probably the Piagnoni, alone, did not discern the folly
of the ordeal. Had not their leader ofttimes asserted that,
whenever the time should arrive when a miraculous interven
tion in his favour should be required, God would not fail to
work that miracle ? He had often said — and we believe with
perfect sincerity — that such would be his experience. No
marvel, then, that his followers shared his belief. That the
ordeal, therefore, should take place appeared inevitable.
On the 1 st of April, Savonarola delivered a short discourse
in San Marco on the subject of the ordeal. From the uncer
tain sound of that address, it is evident that his judgment was
not satisfied respecting it. He said he had too much work on
hand to give up his time to " such miserable contests," but if
his adversaries were bent upon refuting his prophecies by
the proposed ordeal, " I will in no wise," he said, " hesitate
to go through the fire, and I shall be certain to come out
unharmed." Having spoken in this strain for a few moments,
Savonarola said in conclusion : " They who truly feel them
selves inspired by the Lord will certainly come out from the
flames unhurt, should the trial take place, of which we are not
yet certain. As for me, I reserve myself for a still greater
work, for which I shall ever be ready to offer up my life. The
time will come when the Lord will show supernatural signs,
but that will certainly not be left to the choice or the will of
any one. For the present, it suffices us to see that if we send
any one of our brethren indiscriminately, we shall expose our
selves to the anger of the people, should the Lord not bring
him out unhurt from the flames." It would seem as if the
monstrous absurdity about to be enacted had so clouded the
Friar's mind that he did not see how strangely illogical and
contradictory were his words. "They who truly feel them-

The Ordeal by Fire. 191
selves inspired of the Lord," he said, "will certainly come
forth from the flames unhurt '' — forgetting that, according to
the theory of the ordeal, held by both himself and his adver
saries, this assurance was as applicable to one as to the other.
For it was quite possible that Franciscans and Dominicans
might alike — carried away by excitement — feel convinced that
they were " truly inspired of the Lord ; " undoubtedly Fra
Giuliano, who asserted that he would " enter the fire for the
salvation of souls," must have been so persuaded.
Day after day was fixed on, and then set aside, for the
ordeal. Some expected the Pope to forbid it ; but nothing
was further from the intention of His Holiness ; and when the
6th of April had come and gone, and no brief from Rome
had arrived, the people, intolerant of such delay, called
for the ordeal to take place — "to-morrow." "The friars of
San Marco are all prepared," wrote Strozzi on the evening of
the 6th. " If the trial does not take place — and I now think it
will not — the preparation for it is even more striking than
would be the miracle itself." Savonarola ended that day with
a short address, recommending his friends to pray.
The next morning the Piazza presented a strange spectacle.
The evil designs of the Compagnacci on the one hand, and
suspicions of foul play on the other, made both parties come
armed. The Piazza, therefore, was occupied by three separate
bodies of armed men — five hundred soldiers in the pay of the
Signory; five hundred armed ruffians, under Dolfo Spini —
the Friar's inveterate enemy; and three hundred Piagnoni,
led by Maruccio Salviati.
While these arrangements were being made, Savonarola
celebrated mass in San Marco, after which he delivered an
address to the assembled people, chiefly women — for the men
had gone to the Piazza — and exhorted them to continue in
prayer until he should return from the ordeal. As he ended
his address, the mace-bearers of the Signory arrived to
announce that all was ready.

192 Savonarola.
The procession immediately formed. Four hundred Domi
nicans, with Fra Domenico, the champion of the day, at their
head, took the lead. He wore a bright-coloured cope, and
carried a long cross in his hand. Behind him walked Savo
narola, robed in white, and bearing the Host in a crystal vase.
Then followed the rest of the friars, all chanting aloud, " Let
God arise, and let His enemies be scattered." It was noon
when the procession reached the Piazza, and since before
dawn, every available inch of ground had been occupied ; for
the people had come to see a miracle.
As the procession took up its position on its allotted space,
Savonarola stepped forward, and reverently placed the Host
on the altar erected by the Dominicans. As he did so, every
eye was fixed upon him, and steadily he bore that gaze;
though in his heart of hearts was there not a sense of
disquietude, if not of fear, even while he, more loudly than
any, had joined in chanting " Let God arise, and let His
enemies be scattered ! "
Not far off were ranged the Friar's friends, under Salviati ;
while the soldiers of the Signory were placed, where most
needed, to preserve order, and close the outlets to the streets.
The Compagnacci were stationed far off on the other side of
the Piazza, under the overhanging Tetto di Pisani, so called
from its having been built by the forced labour of Pisan pri
soners. In later times it has been the seat of the post-office.
In full view of all, was the pile of combustible materials
which had been prepared for this outrage upon common sense
and good feeling. It was a platform, about seventy-six feet in
length, nearly ten feet wide, and raised about four feet from
the ground, and paved with brick. On this platform were
placed masses of fagots, sprinkled with oil and resinous sub
stances ; there was a passage about two feet wide in the middle,
and extending the entire length, along which the champions
were to walk. The arrangements for the ordeal were these :
When the fire was thoroughly kindled, the champions were

The Ordeal by Fire. 193
to enter at the opening nearest to the palace, and proceed to
the further end; and the entrance was to be immediately
closed by fire behind them. This last was Savonarola's sug
gestion, in order to prevent the possibility of either champion
turning back, and leaving his companion in the flames. But
why this precaution ? Did not the Friar implicitly rely upon
the Divine interposition in favour of him who should " truly
feel himself to be inspired of the Lord ? "
And now, all seems ready, and the weary and excited crowd
becomes more and more impatient ; slow and solemn chanting
fills the air, and Fra Domenico, in his flame-coloured cope,
•still kneels before the altar — on which the Host was deposited
— in eager expectation of his summons.
There was no chanting on the Franciscan side, nor any
¦discoverable sign of devotion or enthusiasm. Neither
Francesco di Puglia, the original challenger, nor his miserable
-dupe, Giuliano Rondinelli, had yet appeared — they were having
a secret conference with the Signory.
Domenico now rose from prayer, his countenance exhibiting
the fixed conviction that God would sustain him in the trial;
and with intense earnestness he implored there might be no
more delay. Then Savonarola stepping forward, demanded that
.the Franciscan should come forth, and not keep the people in
further suspense. But there was no reply, no movement on
his side. Caught in a net of their own weaving, the Franciscans
had recourse to every possible pretence to try and extricate
themselves. First, they suggested that, for aught they knew,
the flame-coloured cope of Fra Domenico might be enchanted.
The monk might come out of the fire unharmed— not by the
interposition of God, but that of the devil. The cope must
therefore be taken off. Savonarola and Domenico replied that
to avoid any dispute, a contract had been signed stating that
neither party had any belief in incantations. Nevertheless,
the cope was put away. But, urged the Franciscans, the gown
anight be enchanted; to meet which difficulty, Domenico

194 Savonarola.
offered to change dresses with any one of his companions.
Accordingly, he was taken aside and dressed, from head to
foot, in the robes of a Dominican — Alessandro Strozzi. Even
this concession did not satisfy the Franciscans, and they now
forbid Domenico to stand near Savonarola, "lest that great
magician should cast his spell upon him ! " Whereupon
Domenico placed himself on the other side, among the Fran
ciscans. So earnest was his desire to enter the fire, that he
would have done anything — made any sacrifice — so that his
wish might be granted.
The long-desired moment seems to have arrived, as a slight
movement is visible among the crowd, as of people passing to
and from the Palazzo. The chanting, too, became less deafen
ing, and expectation rose to fever-height. There was a breathless
pause, and then seditious, threatening cries filled the air as the
crowd became aware that there was another disappointment.
The Franciscan champion had again asked a conference with
the Signory. The result of that conference did not transpire,
and discontent gave place to fierce threats against those who
meant to cheat the people of the promised spectacle. This
was the very moment for which the Compagnacci had toiled
and waited. It was joyfully seized; the Arrabbiati, darting
forward towards Savonarola, attempted to arrest him, when
Maruccio Salviati, and the three hundred Frateschi under his
command, drew up in front of the Dominicans, and Salviati,
drawing a line with his sword, exclaimed : " The man who
crosses this line shall try the metal of Maruccio Salviati's
arms ; " " and this he said " (we quote an old chronicler) " in
a tone and manner which made no man desire to advance a
step further." The troops of the Signory, knowing little or
nothing of the whole affair, seeing the populace disposed to be
refractory, drove them back to their places. Order being
restored, and the Compagnacci baffled, the populace reassumed
the attitude of waiting, eager expectation. The Signory were
more perplexed than ever, while Savonarola anxiously inquired

The Ordeal by Fire. 195
the cause of this continued delay. Just at that moment a
heavy thunder-shower came on, disappointing many, and
leading not a few to hope that a stop might thus be put to
the wretched business in hand. But the shower soon passed
off, and the sun shone out as brilliantly as before.
All this time the Franciscan champion had not appeared.
His friends, fertile in finding excuses for his absence, now
demanded that before the ordeal took place, Domenico must
lay aside the crucifix ; he at once consented, saying he would
enter the fire holding the Host in its crystal vase, in his hand.
Horrified at the idea, the Franciscans exclaimed, " What ! will
the impious wretch cause the holy elements to perish with
him ? " Instead of yielding to their clamour as before, Savo
narola replied that "in any case, the accidents only of the
Sacrament would be destroyed by the fire, the essential sub
stance thereof would remain untouched." Taking advantage
of the delay caused by this discussion, the Signory decided
that the ordeal should not take place.
Upon hearing this announcement, the rage of the populace
became terrific. All parties were equally angry and disap
pointed. Hunger is not calculated to improve the temper, and
the people had eaten nothing since sunrise. Besides, each
particular section of that vast multitude had its own special
object to gain by the ordeal : — the Compagnacci and the
Arrabbiati, to secure the death of Savonarola ; the Piagnoni,
to obtain a triumphant vindication of his doctrine, prophetic
gift and heavenly mission ; while thousands — to whom whether
Savonarola were an impostor or not, was a matter of indiffer
ence — were sorely disappointed at being cheated of the miracle,
so confidently promised and expected.
Upon the devoted head of Savonarola fell this pitiless storm.
Even the Piagnoni charged him with having proved, at the
last moment, a broken reed. Not unnaturally they argued
that, when others refused to enter the fire he ought to have
walked in bravely, fearlessly, and thus given proof of his

ig6 Savonarola.
supernatural mission. As might have been expected, the
hostile Signory, who had rejoiced at the rain, and when it failed
to stop the proceedings had, themselves, postponed them, now
promulgated the malicious falsehood that the ordeal, not
having been carried out, was owing to want of courage on Savo
narola's part, which cowardice, they urged, was proof sufficient
that he was a false prophet, and a deceiver of the people. The
Franciscans, whose champion had not once appeared, as if he
had not courage even to look upon the preparations for the
ordeal, had the audacity to boast that the victory was theirs.
To be calumniated by his enemies did not surprise Savona
rola, but the taunts of the Piagnoni he had not expected, and
these were the most bitter drop in the cup which he was called
upon to drink. But a faithful few stood by him, under whose
protection he returned to San Marco amidst the murmurs
and reviling of the infuriated crowd. "Poltroon," "hypocrite,"
"impostor," "false prophet," every opprobrious epithet, was
hurled against him who, but a few hours before, was almost
worshipped as a god. When he reached San Marco he found
the women whom he had left praying, still on their knees before
the altar. Ascending the pulpit he told, in simple words, and
few, what had taken place, while horrid cries from the Piazza,
" as of wild beasts robbed of their prey," rang through the
cloisters. Alone in his cell that night, Savonarola thought over the
past— what a contrast to the present, uncheered by one ray of
light ! It was an hour, most bitter, to the humiliated Friar.
Can we doubt that, in the depths of his heart, the conviction
that the time would come when a miracle should be demanded
of him, had long been a pressing reality ? and while the neces
sity for the miracle appeared but in the distance, his faith had
never failed ; the assurance that, when that necessity should
arise, a miracle would be granted was, to him, as " the sub
stance " of the thing "hoped for." So certain was he of this
himself, that he had imparted an equally firm confidence to his

The Ordeal by Fire. 197
followers. But how was it now ? And as this question arose,
again and again, what answer could Savonarola give ? Could
he frame one which would satisfy his conscience ? For, had he
not, at the very moment when victory seemed certain, shrunk
from putting forth his hand to grasp it ? Had he been fearful
for the result ? If so, where was his faith ? Everything
appeared to be ready for the Divine manifestation which should
proclaim to the world that he was truly inspired of God,
stamped by Him as His prophet. All were ready — his enemies
were there, ready to be confounded by his triumph, the pile was
there, ready to be kindled. True, Francesco was not ready, he
had hidden himself away. But Domenico was ready, longing
to enter the fire. Why then did Savonarola hold back ? Why
did he not enter upon the ordeal boldly, and thus evidence the
truth of what he had long affirmed concerning himself? Can
we, looking back on that strange scene, answer the enquiry ?
We cannot.
But this, at least, appears plain and reasonable. Believing,
that when Savonarola, over and over again, declared his confi
dence that God would work a miracle in his favour when such
an attestation of his inspired mission were needed, he spoke in
all sincerity, we can yet understand that, while still firm upon
this point, he might not feel this confidence with respect to the
ordeal. For, to believe that God would grant a miracle when
the fit moment for it arrived was one thing ; to feel persuaded
that the time fixed by his enemies was the right time, and that
preservation from injury while passing through a burning pile
was the miracle which God would be pleased to work — quite
another. As before stated, Savonarola, from the first, objected
to the ordeal ; and although his expressions of disapprobation
varied from time to time, and in the end gave place to a
cold assent, the folly of the whole thing, if not its impiety,
probably led him to persuade himself (until the last moment)
that it would most likely not take place at all.
Whatever view be taken of this melancholy and mysterious

198 Savonarola.
subject, let it not be thought that Savonarola, notwithstanding
his peculiarly sensitive constitution, both mental and physical,
was reluctant to give his life for the promotion of that cause for
which he had lived and laboured. By no means thus wrong
one whose character is undoubtedly strangely complicated, and
difficult to comprehend. Often as he had declared his willing
ness to suffer for the Truth's sake, we believe he did not utter
one idle boast. But, to die in dishonour — to be branded as a
deceiver, a false prophet, the thought was too terrible, — " O
God ! " he exclaimed, in bitterness of soul, " that is not mar
tyrdom. It is the blotting out of a life that has been a protest
against wrong. Let me die because of the Truth that is in me,
not because of my weakness."
Besides, and above all other consideration, let it be borne
in mind, that faith such as the ordeal by fire demanded, was
not faith but fanaticism, a tempting of God. Savonarola had
no warrant to believe that such faith should stand firm. We
shall yet see that true faith never failed him, not in the darkest
hour of trial — but that which had no scriptural promise upon
which to rest, did prove a broken reed. It is very instructive
to observe this.

CHAPTER XXIV.
$an Ulareo $ttaehed.

' The foe is strong, his venomed rage I dread,
Yet, O my God, do Thou his wrath restrain,
Shield me in battle, soothe my aching head
In the sharp hour of pain :
But more than this, oh give me toiling faith,
Large-hearted love, and zeal unto the death j
Let me not live in vain." — H. Bonar.

The plot of the Arrabbiati has failed to a certain extent ;
Savonarola has not been captured as had been so confi
dently expected, nevertheless the challenge with its unfortunate
accompaniments tended materially to weaken his cause.
The day after the ordeal was Palm-Sunday. Once again
Savonarola, from the pulpit of San Marco, addressed an
audience whose faith in him was still unshaken. The sermon
ended, he, in tones of deepest sadness, pronounced the bene
diction and bade farewell to the people ; then, slowly descend
ing the pulpit steps, he turned from that scene for ever. This
act of direct disobedience to the Signory who had forbidden
him to preach, appears like that of one who, knowing that his
time for labour was well-nigh spent, was determined to make
the most of it. Nardi, the historian, alluding to this passage
in Savonarola's life, observes — "This man was ever true to
himself ; he was never intimidated by any trouble or danger."
Vespers being ended, numbers of the Piagnoni went to the

200 Savonarola.
Duomo, where Fra Mariano, who had been so anxious to pass-
through the fire the previous day, was expected to preach. On
the way, insult of every kind awaited them, giving vent to pas
sions fiercely roused by disappointed hate. The Duomo was-
crowded to excess, and not alone by people come to pray and
hear a sermon : numbers of the Compagnacci filled the nave,
while others, posted at the door, insulted those about to enter,
and assured them there would not be a sermon. To this the
Piagnoni returned a flat denial ; the Arrabbiati replied by a
volley of stones, swords were drawn, in a moment the tumult
had begun, of which not a few foresaw the end. Those who
had come, unarmed, rushed to their homes for whatever wea
pons they could seize ; all was confusion. The Compagnacci,
grouped together at the corners of the streets and other posts
of command, threatened all, not of their party, who came
within their reach, while, from the Piazza, arose the cry, " The
fire to San Marco !"
Scarcely had these words been uttered when the church and
convent were besieged by the enraged multitude. On their
way they killed two or three unfortunate Piagnoni, one, a poor
man, a maker of spectacles, who, hearing the uproar, came out
of his house to learn its cause. On rushed the crowd, and
reaching the church, found not a few, chiefly women, still
engaged in prayer. With wild shrieks these fled, followed by
a volley of stones flung at them by the infuriated mob. A few
of the townspeople, faithful friends of Savonarola, remained in
the church, and having closed and barred its doors and those
of the convent, they prepared to defend the hallowed ground
to the last. For they had for several days foreseen this tumult,
and, unknown to Savonarola, who would have objected, they
had brought fire-arms, muskets and pikes, into the convent.
These weapons they now distributed among the lay-brothers
who best knew how to use them, and meanwhile, a few of the
friars, having also procured arms, joined their ranks. Savona
rola was much displeased, and Domenico earnestly implored

Convent of San Marco Attacked. 201
them to lay aside their arms, and not " stain their hands with
blood, so contrary to the Gospel and the precepts of their
superior." And indeed, Dominicans, with helmets on their
heads and long halberts in their hands, keeping guard along
the cloisters, were a strange sight — and the cry, " Viva
Christo !" but a mockery, unspeakably painful to Savonarola.
Putting on his cope, he went forth with the crucifix in his hand,
and entreated his brethren to let him surrender himself to the
enemy, and thus prevent the shedding of blood. " Let me
go," he pleaded, "for I know this tempest has arisen on
my account." But the monks and friars gathered round their
beloved leader, and exhorted him to remain with them. " If
you go, you will be torn in pieces," they cried ; " and then
what shall we do?" What, indeed ! left, as sheep without a
shepherd !
Their prayer prevailed. Turning round, Savonarola said,
" Follow me ;" and leading them through the cloisters, they
sang together a hymn of joyful confidence in God.
It was now about four o'clock in the afternoon. The Piazza
was crowded to excess. Making their way to the front, the
mace-bearers of the Signory delivered a message from that
august body. Was it a command to abstain from further
tumult ? Nothing of the kind. This was their message : —
" All within the convent are commanded to lay down their
arms. All laymen are to depart from it. Savonarola is to
quit the Florentine territory within twelve hours ! "
The tumultuous cries without, reached the ears of those
within the convent. Francesco Valori, one of its armed
citizens, convinced that it would be impossible to defend the
walls much longer, made his escape through a window, thence
over the garden wall, and so reached his house. Hardly had
he done so, when a message from the Signory demanded his
presence before the board. Without a moment's hesitation he
obeyed, strong in the confidence that his presence and personal
authority would prevail to induce the Signory to restore tran-
14

202 Savonarola.
quillity to the city. Recalling to mind days not long gone by,
when the Signory had bowed as one man to his influence,
Valori might naturally expect to prevail with them now. But,
there was a grave difference between that occasion and the
present ; then popular opinion was with him, now it was against
him. Valori, however, was not permitted to try the effect of his
eloquence. As he passed through the crowd, on his way to the
Palazzo Pubblico, with head erect, his countenance betraying
neither guilt nor fear, he was recognised by some who owed
him no goodwill — relations of Ridolfi and of Tornabuoni,
whose deaths he had procured the previous August. In one
moment Valori was cut down. He who had expected, were
Bernardo del Nero put away, to be the first man in Florence ;
he who had so furiously called for "justice," and in answer to
that call had procured the death of five of the first men in
Florence ; he, Francesco Valori, now fell a sacrifice to private
revenge. And so did his wife. Hearing the noise, she ran to
the window, and was killed by a shot from a cross-bow. Forcing
their way into the house, the rioters ran wildly from room
to room, plundering as they went ; and in the midst of the
tumult, an infant sleeping, all unconscious of its terrible
surroundings, was smothered in its cradle.
All through the long hours of night, and into the early
morning of the next day, the rioters did as they pleased.
Some of them, scaling the convent walls, got in through the
broken windows, others set the doors on fire, and effected an
entrance through the flames and piles of burning wood. In
less time than it takes to write it, the entire building was in the
hands of the mob. In hone of plunder, even the infirmary
was searched, also the friars' cells, where not a few were found
gathered together in prayer. Springing to their feet, the terri
fied monks, some with lighted tapers, others with crucifixes in
their hands, fought in self-defence, " until," says Burlamacchi,
" by a Divine miracle the assailants, imagining themselves

Convent of San Marco Attacked. 203
attacked by angels, took to flight." The next moment, meeting
a fresh influx of plunderers, they entered the choir. Then
tolled the great convent bell, amid the clang of arms, and the
cries of the combatants, while Fra Benedetto hurled stones
from the roof upon the assailants below. There was fighting
within and fighting without all through that day ; and, during
those long hours, Savonarola fought too, but not with carnal
weapons. On his knees in the choir he besought the Lord to
save not himself only, but the church, the convent, and his
brethren. Often was his prayer interrupted by the groans of
the dying ; a young man, mortally wounded, was laid to die
close by him on the steps of the high altar. Fra Domenico
administered the Lord's Supper to him, just before he expired
in his arms. His last words were, "How sweet it is for
brethren to be again found together."
As night closed in, the friars, faint and weary, ate a few
dried figs, while the shots became more frequent, the horrid
cries more loud. Before long a thick smoke, threatening suf
focation, made them break the windows to let in the air. As
they did so, the flames, which had been pent up since the doors
were set on fire, some hours before, burst into the church.
Then two of the friars, each seizing an arquebuss, fell back
into the choir, and, climbing up behind the high altar, planted
their pieces, one on each side of the great crucifix which sur
mounted it, and began to fire upon the assailants, who, taking
advantage of the alarm caused by the flames, thought to hasten
the destruction of the whole building.
Then, and not till then, Savonarola rose from his knees.
Taking the Sacrament in his hands, he desired those present
to follow him into the library. Meeting Benedetto on the
way, pressing forward to engage the enemy in close combat,
Savonarola stopped him, saying, in a voice of mingled wrath
and sorrow, " Leave the arms to the flesh, and take up the
cross. It was never my will that my flock should become
shedders of blood." Benedetto obeyed, threw down his arms,

204 Savonarola.
and followed his brethren into the library. Placing the Host
in the middle of that great hall, Savonarola gathered his
followers around him, and spoke to them these his last words
previous to his arrest, " My sons, before God, and in the
presence of the Holy Sacrament, our enemies being already in
possession of the convent, I confirm to you my teaching. All
that I have said to you I received from God, and He is my
witness in heaven that I have not lied. I did not know that
all Florence would thus turn against me. But God's will be
done ! My last word is this, ' Have faith, patience, and
prayer.' Let these be your arms ! I leave you with sorrow
and anguish, to go into the hands of the enemy. I know not
whether they will take my life ; but I am certain that when I
shall be dead, I shall be more able to assist you in heaven
than I have been able to do while on earth. Be of good
courage. Embrace the cross of Christ, so shall you find
safety." Scarcely had he done speaking, when a second body of
guards from the Signory arrived. Their announcement was
tremendous — the convent should be reduced to ruins by
means of artillery, unless the persons of Fra Girolamo
Savonarola, and his two coadjutors, Fra Domenico, and Fra
Salvestro, were immediately delivered into the hands of the
Signory. Thus the government openly sympathized with the
rioters, when, in virtue of their office, their duty it was to put
them down. Further resistance was now worse than useless.
Savonarola confessed to Domenico, and received the Sacra
ment from his hands. Meanwhile, at the suggestion of Mala-
testa Sacramoro, one of those who had offered to enter the
fire with Domenico, a message was forwarded to the Signory,
requesting a written order for the arrest of the three friars.
" So soon," says Villari, " did Malatesta play the part of Judas."
When the order for their arrest arrived, Salvestro could no
where be found. Burlamacchi says he had undoubtedly hidden
himself from fear. Savonarola and Domenico, though advised

Convent of San Marco Attacked. 205
by many to escape by the back of the convent, as Valori had
done, scorned the suggestion. As they left the convent,
Savonarola embraced each of the friars, saying to them : " My
brethren, remember never to doubt. The work of the Lord is
ever progressive, and my death will serve to hasten it." Hurried
on by the crowd, who would, if they could, have torn them to
pieces on the spot, they reached the Palazzo, — their faces and
garments blackened by the smoke of torches thrust beneath
their hoods, while the cruel mob cried : " This is the true
light." Reaching the Palazzo, the prisoners were at once
ushered into the presence of the chief magistrate, and asked
whether they still persisted in maintaining that the doctrine
which they preached was from God. Having replied in the
affirmative, they were instantly carried away to two separate
cells. Savonarola's prison was that small chamber in the
tower of the Palazzo, in which Cosmo de Medici had been
imprisoned previous to his exile.
Without a day's delay, the Signory communicated these
details to the various European Courts. Their ambassador at
Rome was charged to ask of the Holy Father plenary absolu
tion for their great sin, not only in having so long permitted
Savonarola to preach, but in their having themselves listened
to his sermons. At the same time they did not lose the
opportunity, which this humiliating confession afforded them,
to request permission to lay a tax on ecclesiastical property.
Pope Alexander's reply to the " true sons of the Church "
abounded in words of commendation, while absolution was
freely granted, and blessings of every kind promised for the
present and the future. With these came the command to
hasten, with all speed, Savonarola's trial for offences against the
State ; and this done, to send him to Rome, there to be tried
for disobedience to the Pope, and all his other offences of
a religious character. Alluding to the request concerning the
ecclesiastical tax, the Pope promised " to do all in his power
to gratify the Signory." He, however, did nothing.

206 Savonarola.
Ludovico il Moro wrote a letter of warm congratulation to
the Florentine Signory. But by far the most important commu
nication which reached them, and that which proved most fatal
to Savonarola and to the political fabric which he had erected,
came from a most unexpected quarter ; and it was this : On
the 7 th of April (the day on which the ordeal by fire was to
have taken place), Charles vm. of France died at Amboise.
Miserable was the manner of his death. Suddenly attacked
by apoplexy, he " was carried into a hovel filled with rubbish,"
says the historian, De Comines ; " and there upon a bed of
straw, the King of France expired."
Savonarola had often prophesied that, should Charles fail to
fulfil his office as " the Rod of God's anger,'' to which the
prophet declared God had called him, he should be forsaken of
God, and left to die a miserable death. But this fulfilment of
the prophecy could scarcely be a source of comfort either to
the prophet himself or to his followers. For, in it, they lost
their last and most powerful support, and at the very moment
when the king seemed determined to re-enter Italy, (as we
learn from history) for the reformation of the land, and, as
Savonarola confidently expected, that of the Church also.
Therefore it was that Guasconi, when announcing the death
of Charles vm. to Mazzinghi, observed : " Now, just as he
showed himself to be about doing something, life was taken
from him."

CHAPTER XXV.
Imprisonment and Trial of $auanarola.

O judgment ! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason. Shakespeare (Julius Casar).
The Inquisition held no tribunal in Florence. In those
days it was not needed : the bishops could, at any
moment, call on the civil powers to enforce their decrees.
Nevertheless, there were difficulties to be got over before the
mock trial of Savonarola and his brethren — Domenico and
Salvestro — could be proceeded with. Not that there was any
hesitation on the part of the Signory to undertake the onerous
task. So anxious were they to enter upon it, that on the
evening of the very day after the tumult and consequent arrest
of the friars, they called a meeting to make arrangements for
their examination.
That day was Monday in Easter week — a week which, in
happier times, was wont to be especially consecrated by Savo
narola to services in the Duomo. How many who now mocked
and derided him had then listened with breathless attention
to his fervent eloquence ! He is now a prisoner in the hands
of his enemies, and, besides his two companions, Domenico
and Salvestro, seventeen others — some friars, some laymen —
all known as his friends — are prisoners also. Having searched
San Marco, and especially Savonarola's cell, in hope of finding
papers which might tell against him on his trial, the Compag-

208 Savonarola.
nacci gathered together all the weapons they could find in the
church and convent, and placing them, stained by bloodshed
as they were, upon a cart, exhibited them throughout the city,
calling to the people : " See here the miracles of the Friar, and
the tokens of his love for Florence ! " It was truly a horrid
sight, and produced the desired effect upon the populace,
helping much to smooth the way for the business in hand.
Legally, it belonged to the court of the Eight to try the
prisoners, and hence arose the first question for discussion.
The members then in office would be superseded by others
at the end of the month — possibly by friends of the accused.
What course should be adopted to avert such a possibility ?
Then, again, the Pope's demand that Savonarola should be
sent for trial to Rome must be considered. Would it not be
derogatory to the honour and independence of Florence were
the three Friars to be tried on foreign ground ? This question
was fully debated ; but there is no record of any speech upon
the subject, except that of Vespucci, who, as a doctor of laws,
gave his opinion that Savonarola should not be sent to Rome,
that the Pope should be assured of his safe custody in Florence,
and that his trial should be conducted by competent persons.
Vespucci further stated his opinion that there would be no
need to publish the entire of the Friar's examination, but only
those parts approved by the Signory. As to the question about
the future filling up of the Eight, it was argued that if the
election failed to satisfy the Signory, they should be empowered
to procure another. Armed with such full powers from with
out, and inspired by one sentiment — hatred against the ac
cused — within, it was easy to calculate what the result of the
deliberations of the Signory would be. And yet, as if to guard
against the possibility of his escape, no aid of counsel was
offered to the prisoner. It does not appear that he solicited
such help. Did he not feel persuaded it would be denied
him? Preliminaries being arranged, a Commission consisting of

Imprisonment and Trial of Savonarola. 209
seventeen — all avowed enemies of the accused — was appointed
to conduct the trial, authority being given them to use torture
and whatever other means they might think necessary to gain
their end. Dolfo Spini — he who had been foremost in the
tumult on Ascension-day — he who had both covertly and
openly sought to kill the Friar, at one time by his own hand,
.at another by a hireling assassin — he, the leader of the Com
pagnacci, now sat as judge in a court in which law and justice
were to be openly violated. So apparent was it from the first
that the prisoner's cause was already prejudged, that one of
the Signory, horrified at the judicial farce in which he was
called to play a part, withdrew from his colleagues, with these
cutting words, " God forbid that my family should stain their
hands with the blood of this just man ! "
The Commission was not formally complete until the 14th ;
but so anxious were his enemies to begin their cruel work,
that Savonarola was examined by torture on the evening of
the 9th, and for the following ten days. When first ques
tioned concerning his doctrine, he replied, " You tempt the
Lord." Being given writing materials, and desired to state his
opinions — so simple, so free from guile or hypocrisy, were his
words, so devoid of anything which could be legally urged
against him, that his statement was immediately torn to pieces.
It was evident that the Friar's condemnation could not thus
be procured. This short document — lost for ever — was, in
fact, the only confession of faith drawn up by Savonarola.
Throughout the whole of his subsequent examination paper
and pens were kept from him.
The details of those days are too painful to read, much too
painful to write ; enough to say that every means which
ingenious cruelty could devise, in order to extort from the
sufferer the confession required by his tormentors, were
resorted to. Can we wonder, then, that when tortured beyond
human endurance, his mind wandered, and he said and unsaid
many things; and often so. incoherently that he could not fail

210 Savonarola.
to be misunderstood, even had his listeners been friends, not
foes, until in the bitterness of conscious mental weakness, he
cried out, " Take, O Lord ! take, O take away my life !" But
death came not at his call — only delirium. And then, seeing
their horrid labour was in vain, they sent him back to his-
dungeon ; but ere he went, he fell on his knees and prayed
for his murderers.
Thus lingered on eleven days of torture and delirium ; and
yet, at their close, the examiners declared that their victim's
answers while in that state, had been given "spontaneously
and in an uninjured state of body."
We can well believe that, when after each examination,
Savonarola, in the quiet of his cell, recalled to mind words
which had been wrung from him by extreme torture, " the iron
entered into his soul," that such moments were, perhaps, the
most painful in his whole life. But, upon what subject did he
deny statements he had long held true ? The reply to this
question casts a bright light upon the character of Savonarola's-
teaching. The subjects upon which he was examined were three — ¦
religion, politics, and visions and the gift of prophecy as pos
sessed by himself; and it is most interesting and instructive
to observe that upon the two former, no torture, however pro
longed or severe, could force him to yield a single point. His.
religious convictions — founded upon the truth of God, and
received by faith — remained unshaken amid the storm ; and so
did his political views. But it was just the contrary upon the
subject of visions and prophecy. Even when in the pulpit of
the Duomo, and addressing an audience ready to accept as
truth every word he uttered, Savonarola's prophetic statements
were ever as an uncertain sound. His visions, though sin
cerely believed in by himself and his followers, were mainly, if
not entirely, the fruit of a mind weakened by monkish fanati
cism ; hence we often find him saying the most contradictory
things respecting his "gift of prophecy." When it was thus-

Imprisonment and Trial of Savonarola. 2 1 1
with him, in calm weather and under the approving smile of
thousands, could it be expected that Savonarola would give
coherent answers, that he would be able to explain and defend
his prophetic assertions before those whose only object in
questioning him was to find ground for further torturing his
wretched body ? Impossible ! At no time of his life had he
been able to explain the subject to others, and this because
he had never clearly understood it himself. Could he be ex
pected to understand it, or clearly explain himself now, when
his body was quivering under torture ? He felt his weakness
in that terrible moment. "O Lord!" he exclaimed, "Thou
hast taken from me the spirit of prophecy." At another time,
having firmly maintained that all he had ever said respecting
visions was true, he concluded with these words of truth and
soberness : — " Leave this alone, for if it be from God, you will
have a clear sign of it ; but if it be of man, it will fall to the
ground. But whether I am a prophet or not is not an affair of
the State, and no one has a right to judge or condemn the
thoughts of others."
Upon political matters his answers were throughout clear
and explicit. Over and over again he denied having ever
used the confessional to obtain possession of State secrets,
and with equal earnestness repudiated the charge of having
by favour or disfavour shown to any one, sought to procure
information respecting such matters. " My sole object," he
affirmed, " was to favour free government in general, and such
laws as would improve it."
To the Signory, Savonarola's answers, we can well believe,
bore the impress of studied obscurity. Little could they
appreciate the character, mental and physical, of their victim.
Highly sensitive by nature, his cloister life, fastings, vigils,
eight years of incessant preaching had told heavily upon him.
Then, the events of those hours immediately preceding his arrest
— the church and convent that he loved, fired and sacked !
the cries of the wounded resounding within walls where the

212 Savonarola.
voice of prayer and praise was wont to be heard ! the insults
to himself ! the desertion of friends ! and last, not least, the
inward consciousness that he had failed.
It was upon this weak, nervous, excited, sorely afflicted
one, that torture so severe, so terribly certain in its effects,
that the executioner himself stood amazed to behold it, was
brought to bear !
The Signory were sorely puzzled and disappointed. Ex
amination, torture, renewed again and again, had brought
forth nothing that could legally criminate the accused. What
was to be done ? The people were impatient for conviction.
The Pope had written more than once to complain of the
tardiness of the trial ; the case seemed desperate, and required
a desperate remedy.
It so happened that at the close of one long day of exami
nation, and failure, one of the examiners meeting a notary of
notoriously bad character, Ceccone by name, lamented to him
that no amount of torture had availed to procure one grain of
legal evidence against Savonarola. " Then," replied Ceccone,
"where none exists, we must invent one" — adding, that he
would undertake to make out "a process" which would "ensure
conviction." But, he would not do this for nothing ; no, the
sum he required was 400 ducats. His offer was accepted ;
and with stealthy steps Ceccone was smuggled into the room
in which the examination, by torture, was conducted — and
there, hidden behind a curtain, he saw and heard enough for
his hellish purpose. Out of the wild incoherent mass of
confession, and recantation of confession, Ceccone spun a web
strong and subtle. His long and minute report was marked
by fabrication from beginning to end — " Yes," substituted for
" no ;" " No," for " yes," altering entire sentences. While others
of pure invention on his part, such as "This was my hypocrisy ;
my pride : I did it for worldly glory " — were freely inserted.
But even in this report of Ceccone's, mutilated as it was —
Savonarola himself is heard, when the words, as correctly,

Imprisonment and Trial of Savonarola. 213.
reported, would tell against him. For instance, when affirming
that the Church must first be scourged, then reformed, he said —
"To aid me in this object which I had at heart, I told of things
in my sermons by which Christians might know the abomina
tions practised at Rome, so that they should desire to have a
General Council called ; for if that were accomplished, I hoped
to see many prelates, and also the Pope, deposed, and I should
have endeavoured to be there : and being there, I felt confident
that I should preach, and do such things as would be glorious
in the result." Surely, it needed the inwrought conviction that
he was speaking the truth to enable Savonarola to utter words
so unsavoury to his examiners, except indeed so far as they
might lead to his conviction — or, at least, lower him in the eyes
of Florence. Thus, all during his trial, as indeed throughout
his whole life, he exhibits a strangely compound character,
— sublime heroism, with intervals of utter weakness ; profound
powers of reasoning, with superstitious fancies.
The examination being ended, the Pope was duly informed
of the fact. In the, justly styled, " odious " letter from the
Signory, in which they express their regret at the length of the
trial, they say, " We have had to deal with a man of most
extraordinary patience in suffering, and of the greatest sagacity,
who hardened himself against torture. Notwithstanding a long
and most careful interrogatory, and with all the help of torture,
we could scarcely extract anything from him which he wished
to conceal from us, although we laid open almost the inmost
recesses of his mind."
Something yet remains to be done : something necessary in-
the eye of the law — Savonarola must affix his signature to the
report of his trial. With difficulty he was persuaded to do so.
But what did he sign ? Not the document drawn up by the
authorized notary from his notes written in full view of the
prisoner and his judges ; but a copy of that document, altered
and falsified by Ceccone — the spy behind the window-curtain.
It is even doubtful, so conflicting are the accounts handed

214 Savonarola.
down to us, whether the paper Savonarola signed was, really,
that which had just been read to him, or one, by sleight of
hand, substituted in its place. Most likely it was the latter.
Be that as it ma)', upon hearing its contents, he was asked, " Is
that which is here written, true ?" and he replied, " That which
I have written is true." Did Savonarola, by these words, refer
to his confession of faith, written with his own hand on the
evening of his arrest ? Who can tell ? Having thus spoken,
he returned to his cell.
Ceccone has done his work ; but not to the satisfaction of
his employers. All his malice and ingenuity proved powerless
to procure sentence of death against the accused ; consequently,
the Signory rewarded him by 30, instead of 400 ducats.
Before publishing the depositions, which, after long discus
sion, it was agreed to do, these were, for the third time, altered.
When circulated in that form, Florence read them with amaze
ment ; neither to friend nor foe were they acceptable. Scarcely
had the first copy been sold, when the Signory ordered the
entire edition to be suppressed. Nevertheless, a second edition
followed immediately, and was eagerly purchased.
It would appear as if the Signory already dreaded the odium
sure to follow, when the present excitement should give place
to calm reflection. For, upon whom would this odium lie ?
Surely, mainly upon the Signory ; and so, as if to screen them
selves, they stated at the beginning of the first edition of the
Notary's report, that "the commissioners and examiners of the
Florentine Signory," had been " solemnly elected and deputed
by a commission from the Holy Apostolic See" — thus would they
throw the reponsibility, which they had so heartily accepted,
upon the Pope. When all was over, and their victim's
ashes were floating down the Arno, the Signory, when announc
ing the fact to the King of France, expressly assured him, that
the bishops, " Romolino and Turriano, had " (as we know they
actually did) " by the authority of the Pope, pronounced his
sentence, and that the Signory were in no degree responsible ! "

Imprisonment and Trial of Savonarola. 215
But these efforts to screen themselves were in vain. They
thought themselves safe when the first edition of the trial was
suppressed; but to quote Burlamacchi, "God permitted it to
be divulged : for Ceccone had sent a copy of it to a friend who
promised not to show it to any one, but afterwards deceived
him, printed it, and so made it public."
The verdict for death appearing to be as far off as ever, the
Signory decided upon a fresh examination of the accused.
Though short, it was severe, and again, as before, his words
were made to mean whatever his tormentors pleased. There
was yet one more step required by the law — the report
of the trial must be publicly read in the hall of the Great
Council, the accused being also present. But what if Savo
narola should detect the falsehoods with which it abounded !
Could he fail to do so ? And so, it was settled that his absence,
not his presence, should be required. The paper was read by
the secretary of the Eight, who had the effrontery to assure
the assembled multitude that "Savonarola declined to be
present, as he was afraid he should be stoned." No one,
however, believed this assertion.
Savonarola passed a quiet month in his prison, free from
further "questioning, " from the 19th of April to the 19th of
May, when the Pope's commissioners arrived. How did he
spend that month?
When preaching on the Psalms, from time to time during
his public ministry, he always passed over Psalms xxxi. and li.,
saying, the time would come when he should especially need
them, and that then he would " unfold their treasures to his
own infinite comfort — and it might be, the comfort of others
too." That time had now arrived ; and as solitude and rest
revived his weary mind, and his poor shattered body became
equal to the effort, he took up his pen, and traced the out
pourings of his heart as he thought over these two Psalms.
Turning to Psalm xxxi. 1 : "In Thee, O Lord, do I put my
trust ; let me never be ashamed ; deliver me in Thy righteous-

216 Savonarola.
ness," he wrote these meditations — "Whither shall I, poor
sinner, turn me ? to the Lord, whose mercy is infinite. No one
should glory in himself ; all the saints say, not to us, but to the
Lord glory belongs. They were not saved by their merits or
their works, but by the goodness and the grace of God, there
fore no one can have glory in himself." And again, further
on : " O Lord, a thousand times hast Thou wiped out my
iniquity, and yet a thousand times have I again fallen into it.
But when Thy Spirit shall descend upon me, when Christ shall
live within me, then I shall feel secure. Confirm me, then, O
Lord, in Thy Spirit, for then only shall I be able to instruct
the wicked in Thy ways. If Thou hadst desired the sacrifice
of my body, I would have given it ; But Thou askedst not for
burnt-offerings, but for the spirit. Let, then, a heart that has
repented of its sins be offered up to Thee, and more Thou
wilt not require."
As if once again in the pulpit — preaching upon the need of
reformation of the Church, he wrote these thoughts, " I fer
vently pray that all men may be saved, for the works of the
just would greatly comfort me. I pray Thee, therefore, to turn
Thine eyes towards Thy Church, when Thou wilt see how
greatly unbelievers outnumber the Christians. Send forth Thy
Spirit, and renovate the face of the earth. Hell is becoming
full, and Thy Church empty. Arise therefore, O Lord ! why
sleepest Thou ? Our sacrifices are not acceptable to Thee, for
they are those of ceremony, and not of justice. Where now is
the glory of the apostles — the strength of the martyrs — the
simplicity of monks ? "
Meditating upon the fifty-first Psalm, he touchingly describes
the conflict going on within himself — sorrow one moment, hope
the next, making its voice heard. " Sorrow," he .writes, "has
pitched his camp around me, and has encompassed me with
a strong and numerous army ; he has taken full possession of
my heart, and never ceases, night nor day, to attack me with
the clang of arms. My friends fight under his banner, and

Imprisonment and Trial of Savonarola. 217
have become my enemies. All that I see, all that I hear,
bring him before me." Then, as if to check these bursts of
melancholy, he speaks of his state as like one in a fever, to
whom everything tastes of bitterness. He says, " I will turn
me to heavenly things, and Hope will come to my rescue.
Sorrow cannot endure her aspect. Now let the world oppress
me as it will, let mine enemies rise up against me, I fear them
not, as one whose hope is in the Lord. It may be, O Lord,
that Thou wilt not grant my prayer that I may be delivered
from temporal anguish, for such a measure of grace might not
help the soul, which virtue alone inspires with courage in days
of tribulation. I shall then, for a time, be overcome by men ;
they will have strength and power against me ; but Thou wilt
not suffer that I shall be for ever cast down."
Then follows a passage of peculiar interest : — " I shall have
hope then in the Lord, and I shall, ere long, be freed from
tribulation. And by what merits ? Not truly by my own, but
by Thine, O Lord. I do not rely upon my own justification,
but on Thy mercy. The Pharisees gloried in their justifica
tion; but they had it not from God. It comes from grace
alone ; and no one will be justified before God solely by having
fulfilled the works of the law." In conclusion, he says " I shall
not put my trust in man, but in the Lord alone ; and I shall make
my vows before the whole people ; for the death of saints is
precious in the eyes of the Lord. Should the whole army of
my enemies be arrayed against me, my heart will not quake,
for Thou art my refuge, and wilt lead me to my latter end."
Being deprived of pen, ink, and paper, Savonarola could
write no more.

CHAPTER XXVI.
Fra Homenieo — Patient in Trihulation.

Who dares think one thing, and another tell,
My heart detests him as the gates of hell. The Iliad.

'-pHE result of the examination of Domenico and Salvestro
-L was equally disappointing to the Signory. Strong in
body, and firm in mind, Domenico suffered without flinching
or uttering a word which his examiners could urge against him.
With refined cruelty, they tried to break his spirit by assuring
him that his revered master had retracted everything. But
Domenico had not now to learn the character of him whom
he had so long believed true ; and calm in the midst of terrible
torture, his faith in Savonarola remained unshaken.
As if wishing to earn for themselves the character of upright
judges, they desired him to state his confession of faith in his
own handwriting, with a view to its being published. But,
upon reading it, their courage failed ; every sentence — so pure,
so true — would have told against themselves. As it then stood,
it must not be made public ; and so, as they had done with
the master, so they now did with the servant — they altered his
confessions, and added — what he would have died rather than
betray — the names of friends of Savonarola and of his cause.
Even thus mangled, the Signory durst not publish it. A few
manuscript copies alone were circulated.
Beginning with these words : " My God and Lord Jesus

Fra Domenico — Patient in Tribulation. 219
Christ knows that I, Fra Domenico, for His sake, am not false
in any of the things I now write — ," the friar went on to affirm
that he and Savonarola were pure from the blood shed in San
Marco, they having earnestly protested against arms being
brought into the convent. Upon the subject of the ordeal, he
said : " I went forth with the utmost deliberation to pass
through the fire, and never expected any objection being made
to my carrying the Host with me." In conclusion he begged
that his words might be interpreted " according to the intention
with which they were written."
Being desired to state in writing his opinion of Savonarola,
he at once complied. "From a certain impression on my
mind," he wrote, " I have ever fixedly believed — and nothing has
ever caused me to disbelieve — and I do now believe, in all the
prophecies of Savonarola  I have kept stedfastly to that
faith, nor, on that account, ought your Excellencies to be
offended, for this, my belief, does no injury to the State; in
such matters every one is free to believe as he will." How
deeply touching are these concluding words : " There is no
thing more on my mind ; if there be anything else you wish to
know from me, ask me, and I will do my best to satisfy you.
But give credit to all I say, as you certainly may, for I have
always had a tender conscience. I am quite ready to speak as
openly as if I were at the point of death, which may very easily
be the case if you continue to torture me, for I am already
utterly broken down. ... I pray you, therefore, be merciful,
and believe in the simple truth I have written." Yet all the
more they tortured him, while he cried : " I know no more ;
for my whole concern has been to lead a life of virtue, and
with Jesus Christ, the King of Florence. You can get nothing
more out of me, for I have no more to give ! " And still they
tortured him. When exhausted, almost unto death, they
placed a pen in his hand, and he traced these last words of his
confession : " God's will be done ! I never perceived, nor
even had the slightest suspicion, that Father Hieronymo either

220 Savonarola.
deceived or feigned ; but, on the contrary, he was ever most
upright, and I have always considered him a man of a rare
nature. Having the greatest reverence for him, I hoped,
through him, to have the grace of God to enable me to do
some good to the souls of men ; and, looking upon him as a
man of God, I obeyed him with singleness of heart, and with
all anxiety as his subject. I have sometimes said to the friars
from the pulpit, that if ever I discovered the slightest error or
deception in him, I would lay it open and make it publicly
known. And it is most certain that I have sometimes declared
to himself that which I would have done, and which I would
now do, did I know that there was any duplicity in him."
Fra Salvestro, a prey from childhood to fancies and imagina
tions which he believed to be messages from heaven, presented,
when under examination, a perfect contrast to Domenico. To
save his life, he was ready to say, and again unsay, anything ;
to swear falsely against Savonarola — to give up the names of
many, who had called him " friend," to their enemies ! And
yet, unwittingly, some of his assertions tended, and very
remarkably, to establish Savonarola's innocence. Salvestro's
depositions were, therefore, also submitted to Ceccone for
correction, and, where desirable, additions !
Domenico and Salvestro being sent back to their cells,
several friars of San Marco, and other friends of Savonarola,
were placed under examination. Without one exception, they
all affirmed the Friar to be " a man wholly devoted to heavenly
things," who never concerned himself about the affairs of State,
except with a view to promote true religion. Having borne
this testimony to their Superior's character, they were shown
Ceccone's report of his depositions, in which he was made to
deny all he had ever said as to his visions and prophecies.
Then, indeed, not a few, caught in the snare, expressed their
surprise and anger in unmitigated terms.
We can hardly blame them. For their belief in Savonarola's
visions and prophecies was, of necessity, without any solid

Fra Domenico — Patient in Tribulation. 221
foundation upon which to rest. They believed them, because
he believed them, and now that he — as they were assured,
and by his own testimony — had, himself, retracted all he had
formerly asserted — was it strange that their faith in him
should become shaken ? Even Fra Benedetto, his faithful and
long-tried friend, felt, as he himself expressed it, " like a thrush
that had been struck to the ground ! " But Benedetto did
not long remain in that prostrate state. Nerved by love and
reverence for his friend and teacher, he looked carefully into
the facts of the case, and discovered wherein the deception lay.
Need we add that, as he pondered over the matter, his con
fidence in Savonarola gathered strength ? All reliable witnesses,
and they were many, bore testimony to the purity, the
unfeigned sincerity of the Friar's life, and of his whole
bearing throughout his trial.
But there were friars in San Marco — poor, craven-hearted
mortals, who, dreading the wrath of the Pope, threw them
selves at his feet and implored his pardon for having harboured
within their walls "the fomenter and leader of every error."
But even their wrath tended to his praise, for, in their letter to
the Pope, they stated that "the rectitude of Savonarola's
whole life ; the sanctity of his habits .... the success
which attended his efforts to reclaim the city from vice, from
usury, and crimes of every kind ; '' all these things they
said, had "not only deceived themselves, but men of far
greater genius." Two of the friars bore this letter to Rome,
and returned to Florence with the Pope's reply, granting
the desired absolution. Another letter from the Pope,
addressed to the Archbishop and Chapter of the Duomo,
empowered them to grant absolution for any crime committed
with a view to the destruction of Savonarola — even were it
that of murder. In both these letters the Pope reiterated his
demand that Savonarola should be sent to Rome, there to
receive sentence of death.
A new Signory being now in office, this demand of Roderigo

222 Savonarola.
Borgia was again debated, and again it was decided that the
impending sentence should be pronounced and executed in
Florence, thereby to strike terror into the hearts of those — and
they were not few — whose love and devotion to the Friar
continued unabated. If the Pope desired to learn more than
he had been told by letter, the Signory informed him that
he might send commissioners to examine the three friars afresh
in the city of Florence.

CHAPTER XXVII.
The End.

" Be like a bird, which for an instant may
Rest on frail boughs, yet all untroubled sings ;
Nor checks its song to heed the bending spray,
Calm in the quiet consciousness of wings."
Translated from Victor Hugo.

At length the Pope yielded, and consented to send com
missioners to Florence. These — Gioacchimo Turriano,
General of the Dominican Order ; and Francesco Romolino,
Bishop of Ilerda— arrived on the 19th of May. As they
passed through the streets, the cry, " Let him die ! death to
the Friar ! " rent the air ; and Romolino, looking around,
smiled, and said, "Yes, he will die sure enough." In fact, as
the Florentine agent, writing from Rome, said, the two com
missioners had been "charged to put Savonarola to death,
even though he were a second John the Baptist." Scarcely
had they entered the apartments allotted to them, when
Romolino exclaimed to the magistrates in attendance : " We
shall make a famous blaze ! I have the sentence already
prepared ! "
The examination began the following day. Savonarola was
again severely tortured, the Papal Commissioners being deter
mined to surpass all others in cruel ingenuity. The result
was the same as on former occasions — the same fearless denial
of heretical teaching and political crimes — the same delirious,
incoherent answers when questioned respecting his gift of

224 Savonarola.
prophecy. Two days having passed in this way, the Com
missioners, seeing that neither by torture, nor cross-questioning,
not even by torturing his words as well as his body, could they
find a single point upon which he could be legally condemned,
thought it best to close the examination. Bishop Romolino,
therefore, ended the second day's proceedings by ordering
Savonarola to appear on the morrow to receive his sentence.
" I am a prisoner," he replied ; " I will come if they will lead
me." That evening, at about half-past five o'clock, Ceccone,
accompanied by five Florentine citizens, came to try, by
threats and promises, to extract something further from the
Friar. They were utterly unsuccessful. While they were thus
occupied, the Papal Commissioners, and those appointed as
assessors, met in council to deliberate upon the sentence
about to be pronounced. But there was not one moment's
discussion ! Sentence of death was immediately passed upon
Savonarola and Salvestro ; Romolino at the same time sug
gested that it might be well to spare the life of Domenico.
" Not so," replied his coadjutors ; " for, if he lives, he will
keep alive the doctrines of his master." "Then," exclaimed
the Bishop, " let him die ! A miserable friar, more or less, is
of small consequence."
That night, each prisoner in the loneliness of his cell, heard
the dread tidings of his sentence. Salvestro was deeply
agitated. Domenico, on the contrary, received it "as if it
had been an invitation to a feast." Time being short, he at
once wrote a farewell letter to his brethren, which ended with
these words : " Kiss all the brethren of San Marco for me,
especially our most beloved of Fiesole, whose names, imprinted
on my heart, I carry before God. Collect together all the works
of Fra Girolamo that are in my cell. Get them bound, and
place one copy in the library, and one in the refectory, to be
read at table ; and let it be fixed by a chain, so that the lay
brothers may sometimes read the books there." Domenico

¦The End. 225
was in so excited a state that when told that the bodies of all
three should be burnt after death, he prayed to be burnt alive,
in order, he said, that he might " endure that painful martyr
dom for Jesus Christ's sake."
Savonarola was on his knees engaged in prayer when the
messenger of death entered his cell. Without rising, he heard
his sentence read ; it did not seem to afford him either joy or
¦sorrow. Shortly after, when offered supper, he refused it,
saying, his mind needed to be strengthened, not his body.
Probably to this end a Benedictine monk now came to perform
for him the last offices of his Church. Scarcely had he gone,
when Jacopo Nicolini, clothed in black, with a black hood
¦drawn over his face, entered the cell. His was the voluntary
task to comfort those doomed to suffer the penalty of death,
and now he inquired of Savonarola what he could do for him.
One favour, only one, was demanded, that he would procure
permission for the three condemned friars to meet together
once more before they suffered. Nicolini at once consented,
.and, after some hesitation, the Signory gave permission for
them to meet in the great hall of the " Five Hundred."
In the stillness of night they gathered there. It was the
first time they had seen each other since the evening of Palm
.Sunday, when their convent was attacked. Forty days of
imprisonment and torture, during which every effort had been
made to induce each to believe that the others had recanted,
had passed since that memorable Palm Sunday. As they
stood now, face to face, what thrilling emotion filled their
hearts ! There was not time for talking, even had they desired
it ; they could only meet, each his brother's gaze, in silence.
But one glance at their revered master, reassured Domenico
and Salvestro — if, indeed, that were needed, that Savonarola
had not spoken words of falsehood or deceit — that the con
fession shown to them as his had been altered, falsified, to
suit the schemes of his enemies.
A few words, indeed, were spoken at that solemn interview.

226 Savonarola.
In the spirit of days gone by, Savonarola, turning to Domenico,
said : " I have been told that you have requested to be burnt
alive; but that is wrong. It is not permitted to you to
choose the manner of your death. Do we yet know with what
firmness we shall suffer that to which we are condemned ?
That does not depend upon ourselves, but will be granted to
us by the grace of God."
Then, in a severe tone, he said to Salvestro, " I know that
you are anxious to declare your innocence before the people ;
I admonish you to lay aside that thought, and rather follow the
example of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, even on the Cross,
would not justify Himself."
Before parting, Domenico and Salvestro, kneeling down re
ceived, for the last time, the benediction from their Superior.
Then, slowly, each returned to his cell. Savonarola slept
during the early part of the night, his head resting on
Nicolini's shoulder. Calm and peaceful were his dreams, so
pleasant his sleeping thoughts, that a smile often passed across
his face. Rising before dawn, he passed the hours in prayer.
In the early morning the three friars partook together of the
Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. As he raised the Host, Sa
vonarola prayed thus : — " Lord, I know that Thou art that
perfect Trinity, invisible, distinct, in Father, Son, and Holy
Ghost. I know that Thou art the Eternal Word ; that Thou
didst descend from heaven ; that Thou didst hang upon the
Cross to shed blood for our sins. I pray Thee that by that
blood I may have remission of my sins, for which I implore
Thy forgiveness for every offence or injury done to this city,.
and for every other sin of which I, unconsciously, have been
guilty." Having made this full, scriptural, confession of faith,
Savonarola, having first partaken himself, gave the Sacrament
to his brethren. A few moments after, they were informed
that all was read)' for their execution.
To the Piazza they bent their steps, where a vast multitude
awaited them. On the marble terrace, almost under the shade

The End. 227
of the Duomo, and on the very spot where, but a few months,
before, the huge bonfire of vanities had been consumed, and
where still later, the ordeal by fire had been awaited — on that
spot three grim tribunals had been erected. One of these
was for the Bishop of Vasona, who, by command of the Pope,
was to perform the ceremony of degrading the condemned.
Another was for the Papal Commissioners, whose office it
was to declare them heretics and schismatics, and then
deliver them over to the secular arm of the State. The third
tribunal was appropriated to the Gonfaloniere and the Eight
who should pronounce sentence of death. Exactly in front
was a long, narrow platform, stretching across the Piazza ; and
at its end an upright stake, with a cross-bar near the top, had
been erected, upon which cross the friars were to suffer by
hanging. An immense pile of combustibles, placed around
the foot of the cross, had been prepared for the subsequent
burning of the bodies.
There were some among the crowd who, though feeling no
compunction at the atrocious murder about to be committed,
yet objected to the arrangements made for carrying it out.
To their pious minds the resemblance to the Cross of Calvary
was painful ! To satisfy their scruples, the cross-bar was
shortened again and again ; every effort made to remove the
sacrilegious resemblance. " Whether," it has been observed,
"these pious efforts were successful in calming uneasy con
sciences, we are not told."
As the crowd continued to gather — pressing, as crowds are
wont to do, as close as possible to the horrible instrument of
death — the looker-on might not, at a glance, discern much dif
ference between it and that so lately assembled on the same
spot to witness the ordeal. And yet, it was a very mingled
multitude. Not impelled by one and the same feeling had
they that day assembled — some were led simply by a hard
hearted, ferocious curiosity, to witness a horrible sight ; others,
by a feeling of bitter hatred towards the condemned, and

228 Savonarola.
among these were some who had been Savonarola's disciples,
but now, believing him false, they regarded him as worthy to
die. "Let him suffer," could be read in the calm sense of
satisfaction visible in their countenances. But there were
others among the crowd, and many, very many, hiding them
selves away in bitter grief for all that had befallen their master
and their friend, who yet cherished the hope that at the last
moment the spirit of prophecy would assert itself — that God
would not let His servant fall into the hands of the wicked,
but would by a miracle deliver him. Bitter were the taunts
which these had to bear from the ruffianly mob, who composed
by far the greater part of the populace, reinforced by hundreds
let loose from prison, by order of the Signory, as if to make
•" confusion worse confounded."
It was ten o'clock when the friars entered upon this scene.
At the foot of the stairs of the Palazzo Pubblico, a Dominican
monk, in virtue of his office, disrobed the prisoners of their
monastic garments. Savonarola seemed not to have expected
this. Deeply moved, he said, as he gave his dress to the
Dominican, " Oh, holy robe ! How much I have loved thee i
Thou wast granted to me by the grace of God, and I have to
this hour preserved thee stainless. Now, I do not give thee
up ; but thou art taken from me."
Clothed in thin woollen garments, with feet naked and
hands tied behind them, they passed on to the tribunal where
sat the Bishop of Vasona, once Savonarola's friend and dis
ciple. Taking his former master by the arm, the wretched,
time-serving bishop, forgetting (probably from agitation) the
prescribed form of words : " I separate thee from the Church
militant," added — "and triumphant." " Militant, not trium
phant, for that is not given to thee," exclaimed Savonarola,
calm in hope, stedfast in faith, even in that supreme hour.
Having, at the second tribunal, been delivered over to the
secular arm by the Papal Commissioners, the friars, stript
and degraded, passed on to the third— that of the Florentine

The End. 229
officials, where stood Dolfo Spini, as one of the Eight. Sen
tence of death having been read, the condemned — in their
close white garments, feet bare, hands bound — trod their way,
with firm step, along that narrow platform, with the horrible
cross-bar at its end. Did they — did Savonarola hear the yells
of execration, the savage cries of those thirsting for his blood
as he neared the goal ? Or, did his spirit recall words spoken
from the Cross of Calvary fifteen hundred years before ? and
did their assurance that all necessary for his salvation was
" Finished," nerve him for suffering and for death ?
Even Salvestro was calm. Fra Domenico, as he followed
him, chanted the Te Deum. Savonarola came last. To some
few in the crowd, who tried by a word of comfort to help him
on his way, he said : " In the hour of death God only can give
comfort." And to one who asked what it was that supported
him in that hour of trial, he replied : "Our Lord suffered as much
for me." These were his last words ere he reached the scaffold.
Salvestro suffered first, saying : " Into Thy hands I commit
my spirit !" Domenico followed, with a countenance lighted
up with hope and joy. Then came Savonarola, apparently so
absorbed in thought that he was unconscious of the terrible
surroundings. But just before he suffered, he cast one long,
lingering look upon the multitude clamouring for his death —
hundreds of whom had, day after day, pressed to hear him
in the Duomo. Then, calm and serene, " he committed his
body into the hands of the executioner, and his soul into the
keeping of Christ."
They flung his ashes over the Ponte Vecchio into the Arno,
but not before many of the Piagnoni— and among these, women
of high rank, disguised as servants — made their way through the
taunting crowd, even to the foot of the scaffold, and there col
lected relics of the dead. Until the middle of the last century,
flowers were wont to be annually scattered on the spot, where
Savonarola fell asleep, on the 23rd of May, 1498, in the forty-
seventh year of his age.

230 Savonarola.
After his death, thirteen editions of his Paraphrase on the
fifty-first Psalm were published. They were eagerly purchased
and read. The estimation in which they were held by thoughtful,
pious men was greatly increased when Luther brought out a
German edition of the work, with a preface, in which he says :
"Although some theological mud adhered to the feet of that
holy man, he, nevertheless, maintained Justification by Faith
alone. He was burned by the Pope. But lo ! he lives in
blessedness, and Christ has canonized him."

"(Srrrnyfo toaitqtti0lub, labour vtC&ib,
Jhrriait pttsscb."

"Such souls,
Whose sudden visitations daze the world,
Vanish like lightning, but they leave behind
A voice that in the distance far away
Wakens the slumbering ages."

FINIS.

LONDON ! S. W. PARTRIDGE & CO., 9, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C.

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*S. W. Partridge & Cds. Publications.
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±J-