Chapter XIX

THE GOSPEL IN THE CENTRE OF ITALY.
(1520 TO 1536).

While Venice, Turin, Milan, Ferrara, Modena, and other cities of Upper Italy were listening to the voice of the Gospel, the centre and south of the peninsula had also their witnesses to the truth.

[Sidenote: Character Of Occhino.]

Bernardino Occhino, born at Sienna in 1487, four years younger than Luther and Zwingle, and twenty-one years older than Calvin, was the most famous preacher of the age. In his sermons were to be found that elegance, that choice of words and those turns of expression which produce clearness, grace, and facility of style; but at the same time he was not void of imagination or enthusiasm, and possessed a boldness of language which surprises and carries away those who listen to it. Without being one of those firm, solid spirits who search into all knowledge, and weigh and measure all thoughts, he had strong religious cravings, and as he was moved himself, he moved his hearers. ‘From the very beginning of my life,’ he said, ‘I had a great longing for the heavenly paradise.’ He determined to win it, but went astray on the road. His studies were imperfect; he knew little Greek and no Hebrew: his knowledge of Christian doctrine was neither deep nor extensive; he sometimes allowed himself to descend to trifles and even to contradictions; and without denying the essential doctrines of faith, he was found in the latter part of his life employing obscure and equivocal expressions concerning them. He inopportunely defended customs tolerated under the old covenant, but manifestly forbidden under the new, and thus drew down much affliction on his old age. Occhino was a great orator, but not a great divine.

Sienna, the rival of Florence in the Middle Ages, still possessed sufficient attractions to induce a young man to follow the career of letters or of honors; but Occhino’s mind took another direction. From his earliest youth, his religious feelings had inclined him to an ascetic life, and he sought peace for his soul in exercises of devotion. ‘I believe in salvation through works,’ he said, ‘through fasting, prayer, mortifications, and vigils. With the help of God’s grace we can, by means of these practices, satisfy the justice of God, obtain pardon for our sins, and merit heaven.’[835] Erelong his private macerations proved insufficient for him, and he became a monk. Every religious society approved of by Rome was holy in his eyes; but he joined the Observantine Franciscans, because that order was reputed to be stricter than the others. The youthful Bernardino soon found, like Luther, that the life of the cloister could not satisfy his need of holiness. He was discouraged, and, renouncing the pursuit of an object which he seemed unable to attain, he turned to the study of medicine, without however, leaving the convent. Some Franciscans, having separated from the order with the intention of forming a still stricter rule, under the name of Capuchins, Occhino thought he had found what he wanted, and, having joined them, gave himself up with all his strength to voluntary humiliation and the mortification of the senses. _Eat not, touch not, taste not._ If any new and stricter laws were drawn up by the chiefs of the order, he hastened to conform to them. He threw himself blindfold into a complicated labyrinth of traditions, disciplines, fastings, mortifications, austerities, and ecstasies. And when they were over, he would ask himself whether he had gained anything? Remaining ill at ease and motionless in his cell, he would exclaim: ‘O Christ! if I am not saved now, I know not what I can do more!’ The moment was approaching when he would feel that all these macerations were but ‘running knots, which bind at first and strangle at last.’[836]

This was in 1534, when Occhino was forty-seven years old. The agitations of his soul often inspired him, during his sermons, with those pathetic impulses which touch the heart; his superiors, wishing to turn his gifts to account, called him to the functions of the pulpit, and as he thus entered upon a new phase of life, a revolution was also effected in his thoughts. He turned away from the superstitious practices and paltry bonds of the monks and devotees, and approached the Holy Scriptures. Monastic discipline had increased his darkness: the Word was to bring him light. He felt the necessity of conscientiously preparing his sermons, and began to study the Bible. But, strange to say, Scripture, instead of making his work easier, embarrassed him at the very outset, made him uneasy, and even paralyzed him. A striking contrast presented itself to his mind. ‘I believe,’ he said, ‘that we must merit heaven by our works, while Scripture tells me that heaven is given by grace, because of the redemption through Jesus Christ.’ He tried for some time to reconcile these contradictory views; but, do what he would, Rome and the Bible remained diametrically opposed to each other; he determined in favour of Rome. To doubt that the pope’s teaching was divine would have been a crime. ‘The authority of the Church,’ he said in after years, ‘silenced my scruples.’ He applied again to his mortifications. It was all in vain: peace was a stranger to his soul.

Then he turned once more to what he had abandoned. He said to himself that, according to the universal opinion of Christendom, the Scriptures were given by God to show the path to heaven; and that if there was anywhere a remedy for the disease under which he felt himself suffering, it must be in God’s Book. He read its holy pages with entire confidence, and made every exertion to understand them. Erelong a new light broke upon him; a heavenly brightness was poured upon the mystery of Golgotha, and he was filled with unutterable joy. ‘Certainly,’ he said, ‘Christ by his obedience and death has fully satisfied the law of God and merited heaven for his elect. That is true righteousness, that is the true salvation.’[837] He did not advance any farther just then; for some time longer the Roman-Catholic Church was in his eyes the true Church, and the religious orders were holy institutions. He had found that peace which he had sought so long, and was satisfied.

[Sidenote: Occhino’s Popularity.]

The activity of his life increased, the fervor of his zeal augmented, his preaching became more spiritual and more earnest. He continued his itinerant ministry, and attracted still more the attention of the people of Italy. He always went on foot, though weak in body. His name filled the peninsula, and when he was expected in any city a multitude of people and even nobles and princes would go out to meet him. The principal men of the city would display a deep affection for him, pay him every honor, and not permit him to go and lodge in the wretched cell of a monastery, but force him to accept the brilliant hospitality of their mansions. The magnificence of these dwellings, the costly dresses of their inhabitants, and ‘all the pomp of the age,’ made no change in his humble and austere life. Sitting at the luxurious banquets of the great ones of this world, he would drink no wine and eat but of one dish, and that the plainest. Being conducted to the best chamber, and invited to repose in a soft and richly-furnished bed, in order to recruit himself after the fatigue of his journey, he would smile, stretch his threadbare mantle on the floor, and lie down upon it.

As soon as the news of his arrival became known, crowds of people would throng round him from all parts. ‘Whole cities went to hear him,’ says the Bishop of Amelia, ‘and there was no church large enough to contain the multitude of hearers.’[838] All eyes were fixed on him as soon as he entered the pulpit. His age, his thin pale face, his beard falling below the waist, his gray hair and coarse robe, and all that was known of his life, made the people regard him as an extraordinary man, indeed as a saint. Was there any affectation in these strange manners? Probably there was, for though a new creation had begun in him, the old nature was still very strong. He was not insensible to the glory that comes from man, and perhaps did not seek alone that which comes from God.

At length the great orator began to speak, and all the congregation hung upon his lips. He explained his ideas with such ease and grace, that even from the very beginning of his ministry, he charmed all who heard him. But after he had studied Scripture, there was more elegance, originality, and talent in his discourses. He made use of evangelical language, which penetrated the heart; and yet no one, unless he were a very subtle theologian, would dare ascribe new doctrines to him. The inward power which he had received touched their hearts; the movements of his eloquence carried away his hearers, and he led them where he pleased.[839] At Perugia, enemies embraced one another as they left the church, and renounced the family feuds which had been handed down through several generations. At Naples, when he preached for some work of charity, every purse was opened: one day he collected five thousand crowns—an enormous sum for those times. Even princes of the Church, such as Cardinal Sadolet and Cardinal Bembo, adjudged him the palm of popular eloquence: all voices hailed him as the first preacher of Italy.[840] We shall see him presently producing a religious revival at Naples. He was preceded and aided in that work by men who, although inferior to him in eloquence, were his superiors in knowledge and faith.

[Sidenote: Character Of Peter Martyr.]

At the time when the Word was thus sown, and was everywhere bearing fruit more or less, Florence, the land of the Medici, so illustrious from its attachment to letters and liberty, was not to be a barren soil. In the year 1500, the year in which Charles V. was born, a rich patrician named Stephen Vermigli had a son whom he named Peter Martyr in honor of Peter of Milan whom the Arians are said to have put to death for maintaining the orthodox faith, and to whom a church was dedicated near the house in which the child was born.[841] His mother, Maria Fumantina, an educated woman of meek and tranquil piety, devoted herself to her only son, taught him Latin in his earliest years, and poured into his heart that incorruptible spirit, which is of such great value before God. The boy early attended the public schools established for the Florentine youth, and was distinguished for the quickness of his understanding, the extent of his powers, the strength of his memory, and above all by such a thirst for learning that no difficulties could stop him. If Occhino possessed liveliness of feeling and imagination, Peter Martyr possessed solidity of judgment and depth of mind.

Before long the youth was involved in a painful struggle. His father,—either because he disapproved of a monastic life, the abuses of which, even at Florence, had been exposed by Dante and afterwards by Savonarola; or because he was ambitious and desired to see his son attain a brilliant position—intended giving him an education calculated to advance him in the service of the State. Peter Martyr, on the contrary, inspired by the pious feelings which he had inherited from his mother, wished to dedicate himself to God. His greatest ambition was to learn; his glory was to know; knowledge, and especially the knowledge of divine things, was in his eyes superior to all the world besides. His father commanded in vain and disinherited him in vain; in 1516 the young man entered the monastery of regular canons of St. Augustine at Fiesole, near Florence. After a certain interval of time Peter Martyr felt that he did not learn much in the cloister. He was penetrated with the thought that man ought to make it his object to propagate around him solid knowledge and true light, especially in all that relates to the immortal soul; but to propagate them, he must first possess them. He obtained permission to visit Padua, the seat of a celebrated university. Quiet, steady, diligent, affectionate, and respectful, he was loved and esteemed by all. He venerated the aged as if they were his fathers, and displayed such modesty, affection, and eagerness to do what was pleasing to his comrades, that he always found them, in times of trial, his surest friends.[842] Although he was in the age of passions, and lived in cities where temptations were numerous, he was able to preserve that chastity of thought and that purity of conduct so necessary to the happiness and real success of a young man. He studied philosophy, and in the public disputations acquired a singular dialectic skill, of which he afterwards gave striking proofs. But he was in search of something better, namely, divine truth; and therefore began to attend the lectures of the theological professors. He was soon disgusted with them, for they taught nothing but scholastics, and he resolved to seek the road by himself. He frequently spent the greater part of the night in the library of his monastery; he read the Greek authors, and then took up the Fathers of the Church, Tertullian, Athanasius, and Augustine, and began to have a perception that the theology of primitive catholicism was quite different from that of the papacy.

In 1526, his superiors, struck with his talents, called him to the ministry. Peter Martyr preached at Rome, Bologna, Pisa, Venice, Mantua, Bergamo, and other cities. At the same time he gave public lessons in literature and philosophy, particularly on Homer. But he determined to go farther, and, no longer contenting himself with the poets, philosophers, and Fathers of the Church, he desired to know the Holy Scriptures. He was enraptured with them; as the Latin text was not sufficient for him, he read the New Testament in Greek; he next resolved to read the Old Testament also in the original, and meeting with a Jewish doctor named Isaac, at Bologna, he learnt Hebrew of him. Then it was that a new light illumined his fine genius. While he was studying the letter of the Holy Scriptures, _the Spirit of God opened his understanding_, and displayed before him the mysteries concealed within them.[843] His learning, labors, and administrative ability had already attracted general consideration; and the pious sentiments he now displayed helped to increase it. He was appointed Abbot of Spoleto, and in 1530 was summoned to a larger theatre, to Naples, as Prior of St. Peter’s _ad Aram_, where we shall meet him erelong.

[Sidenote: Aonio Paleario.]

In 1534 there lived in Sienna a friend of Greek and Latin literature, an enthusiast for Cicero, whose elegant and harmonious periods he translated better than any other scholar, and who was particularly distinguished among the professors of the university for his elevation of soul, love of truth, boldness of thought, and the courage with which he attacked false doctors and sham ascetics. He made a sensation in the world of schools, and, though he had no official post, the students crowded to his lectures. His name was Antonio della Paglia, which he latinized, according to the fashion of the age, into Aonius Palearius. This, again, was Italianized into Aonio Paleario. Among the hills which bound the Roman Campagna, near the source of the Garigliano, stands the ancient city of Veroli; here he was born in 1503, of an old patrician house according to some, of the family of an artisan according to others. In 1520 he went to Rome, where the love of art and antiquity was then much cultivated, and, from the lessons of illustrious teachers, he learnt to admire Demosthenes, Homer, and Virgil. A rumor of war disturbed his peaceful labors. In 1527 the imperial army descended the Alps, and, like an avalanche which, slipping from the icy mountain-tops, rushes down into the valley, it overthrew and destroyed everything in its course. Milan had been crushed, and, when the news reached Rome at the same time with the furious threats uttered by the imperialists against the city of the pontiffs, the young student exclaimed, ‘If they come near us, we are lost!’ Paleario hastily took refuge in the valley where he was born; but even there the spray of the avalanche reached him. When he returned to the papal city, alas! the houses were in ruins, the men of letters had fled. He turned his eyes towards Tuscany, quitted Rome in the latter part of 1529, and after spending some time at Perugia, went on to Sienna, where he arrived in the autumn of 1530.

That ancient city of the Etruscans, transformed into a city of the Middle Ages, at first delighted the friend of letters. Its position in the midst of smiling hills,[844] the fertility of its fields, the abundance of everything, the beauty of the buildings, the cultivated minds of its inhabitants—all enraptured him. But erelong he discovered a wound which wrung his heart: the State was torn by factions; an ignorant, impetuous, turbulent democracy had the upper hand; the strength of a people who might have done great things was wasted in idle and barren disputes. The most eminent men wept over the sorrows of their country, and fled with their wives and children from the desolated land. ‘Alas!’ exclaimed Paleario, ‘the city wants nothing but concord between the citizens.’[845] He met, however, with an affectionate welcome in the families of a few nobles; and, after visiting Florence, Ferrara, Padua, and Bologna, he returned in 1532 to Sienna, to which his friends had invited him.

[Sidenote: Poem On Immortality.]

Paleario was a poet: his fancy was at work wherever he went; and, either during his travels or on his return to the Ghibeline city, he composed a Latin poem on the immortality of the soul.[846] We find traces of the Roman doctrine in it, especially of purgatory[847] and of the queenship of the Virgin.[848] His eyes, however, were already turned towards the Reformation. He desired to have readers like Sadolet, and also the sympathy of Germany.[849] The poem evidences a soul which, without having yet found God and the peace he gives, sighs after a new earth, a rejuvenated humanity, and a happiness which consists in contemplating the Almighty, the King of men, as the eternal and absolute goodness and supreme happiness.[850]

Ere long Paleario took another step. The religious questions by which Italy was so deeply agitated engrossed that eminent mind. He commenced reading not only Saint Augustine but the Reformers and the Holy Scriptures, and began to speak in his lectures with a liberty that enraptured his hearers, but so exasperated the priests that his friend and patron Sadolet recommended him to be more prudent. Paleario, however, boldly crossed the threshold which separates the literary from the Christian world. He received thoroughly the doctrine of justification by faith, and found in it a peace which was to him a warrant of its truth. ‘Since he in whom the Godhead dwells,’ he said, ‘has so lovingly poured out his blood for our salvation, we must not doubt of the favor of Heaven. All who turn their souls towards Jesus crucified, and bind themselves to him with thorough confidence, are delivered from evil and receive forgiveness of their sins.’

Paleario loved the country. Having noticed a villa which had belonged to Aulus Cecina, the friend of Cicero, situated between Colle and Volterra, at the summit of a plateau, whence flowed a stream, watering the slopes, and where a pure air and the tranquility of the fields could be enjoyed,[851] the Christian poet bought it, and there, in his beloved _Cecignana_, on the terrace before the house or among the forest oaks, he passed many a peaceful day, consecrated to serious meditation. He knew that the world on which he fixed his eyes was the creation of the Supreme, the free will of God; that an inward and uninterrupted bond existed between the Creator and his creatures; and rejoiced that, owing to the redemption of Jesus Christ, there would be formed out of its inhabitants a kingdom of God, from which evil would be forever banished.

[Sidenote: Paleario’s Love Of Nature.]

Paleario’s tender soul needed domestic affections, and at Sienna he was alone. He married Marietta Guidotti, a young person of respectable parentage, who had been brought up with holy modesty.[852] She bore him two sons, Lampridius and Phædrus, and two daughters, Aspasia and Sophonisba, whom he loved tenderly, and who were, after God, the consolation of a life agitated by the injustice of his enemies. Family affections and a love for the beauties of nature were in Paleario, as they often are, the marks of an elevated soul. At a later period, when his life had become still more bitter; when he had lost his health, and his faith had made him an object of horror to the fanatical; when he exclaimed, ‘All men are full of hatred and ill-will toward me;’[853] when he foresaw that he must ere long succumb beneath the blows of his adversaries; even then he sighed after the country, and wrote to one of his friends, with a simplicity reminding us of ancient times:—‘I am weary of study; fain would I fly to you and pass my days under the warm bright sky of your fields. At early morn, or when the day begins to wane, we will wander through the country, around the cottages, with Lampridius and Phædrus my darling boys, and with your wife and mine.[854] Get ready the garden, that we may live on herbs, for I am utterly disgusted with the luxurious tables of our cities. The farm shall supply us with eggs and poultry, the river with fish. Oh! how sweet are the repasts at which we eat the fruit we gather from our own garden, the fowls fed by our own hands, the birds caught in our nets,—sweeter far than those where you see nothing on the table but provisions bought in the market! We will work in the fields; we will tire ourselves. Make your preparations; get ready a saw, a hatchet, a wedge to cleave the wood, pruning-shears, a harrow, and a hoe. If these implements fail us, we will be content with planting trees, that shall serve for ages yet to come.’ It is pleasing to see the disciple of Cicero and especially of the Bible, at a time when he was tormented by sickness and the hatred of the wicked, rejoicing like a child at the thought of planting trees that should give a cool shade and welcome fruit to coming generations. We shall now describe the end of his stay at Sienna, and what brought his great sorrow upon him, although it will lead us beyond the limits of time we have prescribed for ourselves.

The best friend Paleario possessed was Antonio Bellantes, president of the Council of Nine, a grave and benevolent man, generally loved and respected; in a time of difficulty he had assisted the State by the gift of two million golden crowns. Bellantes esteemed Paleario very highly, and Paleario loved him above all other men. In the course of the popular disturbances, the members of the Council of Nine had been banished; but the senate and people had entreated Bellantes to remain at Sienna—a circumstance which had greatly enraged his enemies. Ruffians broke into his house one night and plundered it. Somewhat later Bellantes died, leaving all his ready money to his mother, that she might deliver it to his sons when they came of age. The good lady was a great friend of the monks; every day the capuchins used to visit her,[855] and when she felt sick they crowded round her bed. After her death, no property could be found in her house, except some torn bags which appeared to have held money. The sons of Bellantes accused the monks of having stolen their inheritance, and Paleario supported them with his eloquence. The monks denied the fact, and were acquitted upon their solemn oath. Inflamed with anger against Paleario, they resolved upon his destruction.

[Sidenote: Plot Against Paleario.]

At the head of his adversaries was the senator Otto Melio Cotta, a rich, powerful, and ambitious man of a domineering spirit. At first he had been mixed up in political affairs, but he afterwards enlisted under the banners of the clergy, and made common cause with the monks. A plot was formed in the Observantine convent, situated about a mile from Sienna, in the midst of woods, grottos, and holy places. Three hundred members of the Joanelli, a brotherhood formed for certain exercises of piety, swore upon the altar to destroy Paleario. Not confining themselves to attacks upon his teaching, Cotta and his other adversaries began to pry into his private life, to watch all his movements, and to catch up every word. They soon found fresh subjects of complaint against him. Paleario had ridiculed a wealthy priest, who was to be seen every morning devoutly kneeling before the shrine of a saint, but who refused to pay his debts; and the keen irony with which he had spoken of him had occasioned a great scandal among the clergy. That however, was not enough; they must have a palpable mark of heresy. His adversaries endeavored, therefore, to entrap him, and some of them, presenting themselves as if they wanted to be instructed, put questions to him calculated to lead him into the snare. ‘What,’ they asked, ‘is the first means of salvation given by God to man?’ He answered ‘_Christ_.’ That might pass; but, continuing their questions, Paleario’s enemies added: ‘What is the second?’ In their opinion, he should have indicated meritorious works; but Paleario replied: ‘_Christ_.’ Continuing their inquiry, they said: ‘And what is the third?’ They thought that Paleario should answer, The Church; out of the Church there is no salvation; but he still replied, ‘_Christ_.’[856] From that moment he was a lost man. The monks and their friends reported to Cotta the answer which they deemed so heretical.

Paleario had no suspicion of danger. Cardinal Sadolet and some other friends invited him to come and see them at Rome, and he went. He had not been there long before he received a very excited letter from Faustus Bellantes. ‘There is a great agitation in the city,’ he said; ‘an astounding conspiracy has been formed against you by the most criminal of men.[857] We do not know upon what the accusation is founded; we are ignorant of the names of your adversaries. The report runs that the chiefs of the state have been excited against you in consequence of calumnious charges concerning religion. It is said that some wretched monks have sworn your ruin; but the plot must have deeper roots. I shall go to Sienna to-morrow, and shall speak to my friends and relations about it. I am ready for everything, even to lose my life in your defence. Mean-time I conjure you, let your mind be at peace.’

Bellantes was not deceived. Cotta, without loss of time, appeared in the senate and reported to his colleagues the monstrous language of Paleario, and exclaimed, that if they suffered him to live, ‘there would be no vestige of religion left in the city.’[858] Every man was silent: such was the alarm caused by a charge of heresy, that no one dared take up the defence of that courageous Christian.

Paleario heard of this, and was distressed but not surprised. One truth was deeply engraved in his heart: All power of salvation is given to Jesus Christ; He is the only source whence the new life can be drawn. It seemed to him that the priests had forged so many means of acquiring pardon, that they hardly left Christ the hundredth part. He could well understand how irritated the clergy must be against a man who set so little store by all their paltry contrivances; but although he saw clearly the danger that threatened him, he remained firm. ‘The power of the conspirators is immense,’ he said; ‘the more fiercely a man attacks me, the more pious he is reckoned. But what matters it? Jesus Christ, whom I have always sincerely and religiously adored, is my hope.[859]... I despise the cabals of men, and my heart is full of courage.’[860] Christ was his king. He knew that that great Sovereign, who is achieving the conquest of the world, preserves at the same time all those who have found reconciliation with God through him.

His wife was not so calm. Marietta, his virtuous and devoted partner, so ardent in her affection, was filled with uneasiness and trouble; her imagination called up before her not only the misfortunes of the moment; but also those of the future; she was the most unhappy of women.[861] Her agony was greater than her strength; she passed whole days in tears.[862] Distressed and exhausted, she lost her health; and every one might see in her face the sorrow which was consuming her. When her husband heard of this at Rome, he was heart-broken, and conjured his mother and Bellantes to visit Marietta, in order to distract the afflicted wife from her sorrow.

Paleario would have desired to hasten to her in person and confront his accusers; but his friends at Sienna and at Rome alike dissuaded him. The citizens who were then at the head of the state were violent men, of no morality, and as ready to condemn the innocent as to acquit the guilty. It was hoped that a new election would bring upright men into power: they conjured Paleario to wait, and he did so. But there was no change: the denunciations, charges, and murmurs only increased. The enemies of the Gospel attacked not merely Paleario, but the reformers, the _Germans_, as they said: they tried to involve all the friends of the Bible, both German and Italian, in the same condemnation. At last, what had been hoped for came to pass; an important change took place in the government of the republic; order and liberty were restored. Paleario thought he could no longer remain away; he left Rome and joined his family at his country-house near Colle.

[Sidenote: Paleario Accused Of Heresy.]

As soon as his adversaries were informed of his return, they laid a charge of heresy before the senate of Sienna and the court of Rome. Determined to employ all means to destroy Paleario, they resolved to constrain the ecclesiastical authority to go along with them by the strong pressure they would bring to bear upon it. With this intent twelve of them met, and, bent on prevailing upon the archbishop to demand that Paleario should be put upon his trial, they marched through the streets of the city to the prelate’s palace. In this excited band there was the senator Cotta with five others, distinguished among whom was Alexis Lucrinas, an impetuous and foolish man; then three priests, people of little importance, but very violent, grossly ignorant, and untiring babblers;[863] and lastly, three monks. The archbishop happened just then to be at his villa in the suburbs, for the sake of the purer air; the delegates went there after him, accompanying their march with such shouting, threats, and disputes, that the women, attracted by the unusual noise, ran to the windows, fancying they were taking some criminal to punishment. Some of the conspirators said: ‘The witnesses will be heard, the motives of his condemnation will be declared, and then Paleario will be thrown into the fire;’ but others wanted to proceed more quickly, so that the punishment should follow immediately upon the statement of the offence without any form of trial and without permitting the accused to be heard.[864] Archbishop Francesco Bandini, of the illustrious house of Piccolomini, was a friend of letters and consequently of Paleario. It was afternoon; the prelate who was taking his siesta, being awoke by the noise, called a servant, and asked him who were vociferating in that manner. Being informed that they were men of consideration, he ordered them to be admitted. He rose from his couch, took his seat and waited for the strange deputation. They entered: Lucrinas, who had been sometimes invited to his lordship’s table, was full of confidence in himself, and accordingly had begged that they would allow him to speak. Looking round him with a satisfied and boasting air, he began to pour out against Paleario a long string of insults and maledictions in a passionate tone. The bishop, a wise and grave man, had some difficulty to contain himself, and said that the whole proceeding appeared to him full of levity. ‘There can be no question of levity,’ impudently exclaimed Lucrinas, ‘when three hundred citizens are ready to sign the accusation.’ ‘And I could produce six hundred witnesses,’ rejoined the prelate, ‘who have sworn that you are a merciless usurer. I did not, however, give effect to their denunciation. Did I do well or ill? tell me.’ ... The poor wretch was silent; the fact was too notorious to be denied, and too scandalous to be confessed. But his companions were not to be put out by such a trifle; they explained the motives of their prosecution, threw themselves at the prelate’s feet, and conjured him in the name of religion to support the charge against Paleario. The archbishop, considering that it was a question of heresy, thought that it was a matter for the courts to decide, and consented to their prayer.

[Sidenote: Paleario’s Enemies.]

Paleario’s enemies set to work immediately; they endeavored to prejudice the most notable persons in Sienna against him; and picked out individuals from among the populace, who were without light and without conscience, whom they induced to testify before the court to things of which they knew nothing.[865] It was in vain that the famous Sadolet, summoned to Rome by the pope, stopped at Sienna, and undertook Paleario’s defence. It was in vain that the cardinal, the archbishop, and Paleario had a consultation in which Sadolet commended the accused to the archbishop, and gave touching proofs of his esteem and affection for him; the conspirators were able to turn the interview against the man whom they had sworn to sacrifice to their hatred. A number of people who had assembled in the public square began to talk about the conference: ‘When Paleario was accused by the prelate,’ said some, ‘he was silent through shame.’ ‘No,’ said the others, ‘he answered, but was sharply reprimanded by Sadolet.’[866] Impatient to see their victim handed over to death, happy at having already caused doubt in the mind of the archbishop, and imagining they had convinced Sfondrati the president of the republic, and Crasso the prætor, the twelve obtained an order for Paleario to be summoned before the senate on a charge of heresy.

That innocent and just man was not blind to the danger and difficulty of his position. He felt that the calumnies of his enemies would check the good he hoped to do, would break up old friendships, and destroy the peace that the city was beginning to enjoy. Ere long, perhaps, his wife would be a widow and his children orphans: a veil of sadness covered his face. Oh! how bitter was such a trial! He knew full well that afflictions awaken heavenly life in the Christian; that it is a privilege of the child of God; but he was for some time without comfort, and his soul was bowed down. ‘My adversaries,’ he said, ‘heap wrong upon wrong, hatred upon hatred:[867] they have done nothing else these six months. Has there ever been a man saintly enough not to give way under the attacks of such a perverse zeal? I will not speak of Socrates, Scipio, Rutilius, or Metellus; certain failings might have laid them open to the attacks of their enemies. But even He than whom none was so good, none so holy, even the all-innocent Jesus Christ himself, was assailed on every side.[868] Alas! where can the righteous man turn? whom can he implore?’

[Sidenote: Trial Of Paleario.]

Paleario soon learnt to answer this. When he found himself summoned to appear before the senate, his courage revived. He was not only strong in his innocence, but the faith which inspired his heart told him that God loves his servants, and that with Him they are free from every danger. He went to the palace of the Signiory, and entered the hall, leaning on the arm of the youthful Faustus Bellantes, son of his old friend, accompanied by some faithful men who were unwilling to forsake him in the day of his distress. He stood in the presence of those who held his life in their hands. Sfondrati the president, Crasso the prætor, the senate, and the Nine were seated in their judicial chairs. His adversaries were there also; Cotta especially, full of presumptuous assurance, and feeling certain that the time had come at last when he could fall upon his prey. Paleario recognized him; he was agitated and indignant at seeing him quietly taking his seat in the senate, at the very time he was bent on carrying out an infamous plot. He contained himself, however; and, first addressing the senators, to whom he gave the title employed in ancient Rome, he said:[869] ‘Conscript fathers, when there was a talk about me in former years, I was not seriously moved by it: the times were times of desolation; all human and divine rights were confounded in the same disorder. But now, when, by the goodness of God, men of wisdom have been placed at the head of the republic, when the sap and the blood circulate afresh through the state,[870] why should I not lift up my head?’

By degrees Paleario grew warm; his eyes fell again upon his insolent enemy whom he apostrophized as Cicero did Catiline: ‘Cotta, you wicked, arrogant, and factious man,’ he said, ‘who practise not that religion in which God is worshipped in spirit and in truth, but that which plunges into every superstition, because it is the best adapted to impose upon mankind: Cotta, you imagine you are a Christian, because you bear the image of Christ upon your purple robe; while by your calumnies you are crushing an innocent man, who is also an image, a living image, of Jesus Christ. When you accused me falsely of a crime, did you obey Jesus Christ? When you went to the house of the Nine to utter falsehoods against me, did you think, Cotta, you were making a pilgrimage to Jerusalem? I am surprised that you do not crucify innocent persons.... You would do it—yes, you would do it, if you could do all that your pride suggests.’[871]

Paleario then passed on to a more important subject. In attacking him, his adversaries really attacked the Gospel, the Reformation, and those excellent men whom God was making use of to transform Christian society. Paleario defended the reformers in the presence of all Italy.

[Sidenote: Paleario’s Defence.]

‘You bring impudent reproaches against me, Cotta,’ he continued; ‘you assert that I think wrongly on religious matters, that I am falling into heresy, and you accuse me of having adopted the opinions of the _Germans_. What a paltry accusation! Do you pretend to bind all the Germans in the same bundle? Are all the Germans bad? Do you not know that the august emperor is a German? Will you say that you mean only the theologians? What noble theologians there are in Germany! But though your accusations are unmeaning in appearance, there is a sting lying under them. I know the venom they contain.... The _Germans_ that you mean are Œcolampadius, Erasmus, Melancthon, Luther, Pomeranus, Bucer, and their friends. But is there a single theologian in Italy so stupid as not to know that there are many things worthy of praise in the works of those doctors?... Exact, sincere, earnest, they have professed the truths which we find set forth by the early fathers. To accuse the Germans is to accuse Origen, Chrysostom, Cyrillus, Irenæus, Hilary, Augustin, and Jerome. If I purpose imitating those illustrious doctors of Christian antiquity, why repeat perpetually that I think like the Germans? What! because the learned professors of the German schools have followed the footsteps of those holy men of the first centuries, may not I follow them also? You would like me to imitate the folly of those who, to obtain good preferments, fight against even that which is good in Germany.... Ah! conscript fathers, rather than strive after those delights which lead many astray, I prefer to live honestly. My circumstances may be narrow, but my conscience is at liberty.[872] Let those vile flatterers sit on the doctor’s seat or the bishop’s throne, let them put mitres or tiaras on their heads, let them wear the purple.[873]... Not so for me, I will remain in my library, sitting on a wooden stool, wearing a woollen garment against the cold, a linen garment in the heat, and with only a little bed on which to taste the repose of sleep.

‘But, Cotta, you still continue your attacks; you reproach me for praising all the Germans say and do. No! there are some things I approve of in them and others that I do not. When I meet with thoughts which for ages have been obscured by a barbarous style, hidden under the brambles of scholasticism, and sunk into the deepest darkness—when I see these brought into the full light of day, placed within the reach of all, and expressed in the choicest Latinity, I not only praise the Germans, but I heartily thank them. Sacred studies had fallen asleep in convent cells, where the idle men who should have cultivated them had hidden themselves as if in gloomy forests, under the pretence of applying to work. But what happened? They snored so loud that we could hear them in our cities and towns.[874] Now, learning has been restored to us; Latin, Greek, and Chaldee libraries have been formed; assistance has been honorably extended to the theologians; precious books have been multiplied by means of the wonderful invention of printing. Can there be anything more striking, more glorious, or more deserving our eternal gratitude?’

After this defence of the literary and reforming movement of Germany, Paleario came to what is grander than all—to Christ: ‘Are they not insufferable men,’ he said, ‘nay, wicked men, before whom we dare not praise the God of our salvation, Jesus Christ, the King of all nations, by whose death such precious boons have been conferred upon the human race? And yet for this, conscript fathers, yes, for this I am reproached in the accusation brought against me. On the authority of the most ancient and most faithful documents, I had declared that the end of all evils had arrived, that all condemnation was done away with for those who, being converted to Christ crucified, trust in him with perfect confidence. These are the things that appeared detestable to those twelve ... shall I say to those twelve men or twelve wild beasts, who desire that the man who wrote these things should be thrown into the fire! If I must suffer that penalty for the testimony I have borne to the Son of God, believe me that no happier fate could befall me; in truth, I do not think that a Christian in our times ought to die in his bed. Ah! conscript fathers, to be accused and cast into prison is a trifle; to be scourged, to be hanged, to be sewn up in a sack, to be thrown to wild beasts, to be consumed by fire,—all these are trifles, if only by such punishments truth is brought into the light of day.’[875]

Aonio Paleario did not speak as a rhetorician; he was no maker of Ciceronian periods. The man who at this time professed so energetically the supreme importance of truth and did so again in his _Beneficio di Gesù Christo crocifisso_,[876] gave his life for it. If he _spoke_ at Sienna, he was to _act_ at Rome. In each of these phases we recognize the noble victim of 1570.

After speaking like a martyr, he spoke like a man. He looked round him: some of the most eminent citizens, the Tancredis, the Placidis, the Malevoltas were near him full of emotion. Egidio, superior of the Augustines, and his monks—men abounding in piety and modesty—strengthened him by their approbation and their prayers. His two young friends, Faustus and Evander Bellantes, keeping their eyes fixed upon him, could not restrain their tears. Presently a more moving sight met his eyes: he beheld Marietta, pale and weeping. ‘What do I see?’ he exclaimed. ‘Thou also, my wife, art thou come dressed in mourning weeds, accompanied by the noblest and most pious of women—art thou come with thy children, to throw thyself at the feet of the senators? O my light, my life, my soul! return home, train up our children; do not be afraid, Christ who is thy spouse will be their father.[877]... Alas! she is half killed with grief.[878] O mother, support her, take her away; take her to your own home, if you can ... and let your love dry up her tears.’

[Sidenote: Paleario Acquitted.]

The impression produced by this address was so profound, that the senate declared Paleario innocent. But such a striking triumph served only to enrage his enemies the more: he saw that he could not remain at Sienna, and therefore took leave of his friends. Bellantes, on his death-bed, had commended his children to him, and Paleario exhorted them to aspire to something great. It is probable that he went to Rome for a short time, where his friends had got the proceedings set aside which his enemies had commenced against him; and afterwards to Lucca, where the chair of eloquence was given him. He left a great void at Sienna, and his friends were grieved. Faustus Bellantes seemed to express the feelings of all when he wrote: ‘Since you left, such a torpor has come over me that I am scarcely able to write.’[879]

[Sidenote: Evangelicals Of Bologna.]

Besides these lights—a Curione or a Paleario, scattered here and there over Italy—there were societies of Christian men in several cities who courageously professed evangelical truth. Bologna in particular—a city in the neighborhood of Ferrara, and whose university was, along with that of Paris, the first of the great schools of Europe—counted a large number of laymen and ecclesiastics who, like those of Venice, showed much zeal and decision for the great principles of the Reformation. When John of Planitz, ambassador from Saxony to the emperor, crossed the Alps in 1533, the evangelical Christians of Bologna addressed him with thorough Italian ardor. ‘We know,’ they said, ‘that the Germans have thrown off the yoke of antichrist and have attained to the liberty of the children of God. We know that they are but little troubled because the hateful name of heretics has been given them, and that, on the contrary, they rejoice because they are thought worthy of enduring shame, imprisonment, fire and sword for the cause of Christ. We know that if they demand a council, it is not in their own interest, but with a view to the salvation of other people. For this reason all the nations of Christendom owe a deep debt of gratitude both to them and to you, most honored lord; but there is no nation more indebted to you than our own. Of all countries subject to the tyrant, Italy, being the nearest to him, as it is his seat,[880] experiences the liveliest joy and special gratitude, because, through the goodness of God, redemption has drawn nigh to her at last. We entreat you to employ every means for the convocation of a council. In all the towns of the peninsula, and in Rome itself, as the emperor knows, a great number of pious, wise, and distinguished men desire it, are waiting for it, and loudly demanding it. If the pope should summon a council, he will easily remedy the abuses that have crept into the Church through the neglect of his predecessors; and for that excellent work he will receive appropriate honor from men, and from Jesus Christ life eternal. Let every one be at liberty to read the books in which learned doctors (the reformers) have explained their faith. At least let priests, monks, and laity be at liberty to possess the Bible without incurring the reproach of heresy, and even to quote the words of Christ and of St. Paul without being reviled as sectarians. If, on the contrary, Rome tramples under foot the commandments of the Lord, his grace, his doctrine, his peace, and the liberty which he gives—has not the reign of Antichrist begun?... If you need our help, speak! we are ready. If necessary, we will sacrifice our fortunes and our lives in the Redeemer’s cause; and as long as we live we will commend it daily to God by fervent prayer.’[881] Such was the decision of the Christians of Italy, even in the cities subject to the pope.

About the time when this eloquent address reached the lord of Planitz, John Mollio, a Franciscan from the neighborhood of Sienna, arrived at Bologna as professor in the university. Convinced by the teaching of the Holy Scriptures and of the reformers, he professed with great freedom the Christian truth according to the writings of St. Paul; but the pope forbade him to lecture on the epistles of that Apostle. Mollio then took up the other books of the New Testament; but he drew from them the same doctrine, and his hearers, delighted at seeing the pope’s prohibition thus evaded, enthusiastically applauded him. The Court of Rome, finding that there was no means of turning grace out of the Bible, gave orders to turn Mollio out of the university—which was much easier. However, the number of evangelical Christians in Bologna continued to increase.[882]

Footnote 835:

B. Occhino, ‘Responsio qua rationem reddit discessus ex Italia.’

Footnote 836:

Calvin.

Footnote 837:

B. Occhino, ‘Responsio qua rationem reddit discessus ex Italia.’

Footnote 838:

Ant. M. Gratiani, Bishop of Amelia: see _Hist. du Cardinal Commendon_,
liv. ii. ch. ix.

Footnote 839:

‘Ut auditorum animos quocumque vellet raperet.’—Bzovius, ad annum
1542.

Footnote 840:

‘Ut unus optimus totius Italiæ concionator haberetur.’—Bzovius, ad
annum 1542.

Footnote 841:

‘Ex voto quodam quod fuerunt Petro Martyri Mediolanensi, qui quondam
ab Arianis occisus est.’—Simler, _Vita Petri M. Vermilii_, Tiguri,
1569.

Footnote 842:

‘Æquales suos quamvis plerosque ingenio excelleret, ita tamen amabat,
ita modestia sua sibi devinciebat, ut . . . amicissimos semper
habuerit.’—Simler, _Vita Petri M. Vermilii_, Tiguri, 1569.

Footnote 843:

‘Dum litteram aliquandiu sectatur, patefaciente Spiritu Dei, abdita et
spiritualia mysteria salutariter cognovit.’—Simler, _Vita Petri M.
Vermilii_, Tiguri, 1569.

Footnote 844:

‘Urbs situ, natura, et ingeniis nobilis, inter amœnos colles conclusa,
fertilis et copiosa.’—_Oratio de Concordia Civium_, p. 380. (_Palearii
Opera_, Wetstein, Amsterdam.)

Footnote 845:

‘Nihil unquam enim civitati defuit nisi concordia civilis.’—_Oratio de
Concordia Civium._

Footnote 846:

De Immortalitate Animarum. The poem was published by Gryphius, at
Lyons, in 1536, through the instrumentality of Cardinal Sadolet,
Bishop of Carpentras.

Footnote 847:

‘Tres igitur sedes statuit pater optimus ipse.’

Footnote 848:

‘Teque, optima Virgo,
Victricem, præclare acto _Regina_ triumpho.’

Footnote 849:

‘Quales nunc habet ingeniis Germania florens.’

Footnote 850:

‘Oculos defigite in unum,
Unus ego omnipotens, ego Rex hominumque Deumque,
Æternumque bonum simplexque, et summa voluptas.’
(_Ad finem._)

Footnote 851:

The villa is now the property of Count Guicciardini.

Footnote 852:

‘Adolescentulam optimis parentibus bene et pudice educatam ducam in
uxorem.’—Palearii _Epist._ p. 61.

Footnote 853:

‘Malevolorum et invidorum plena sunt omnia.’—_Ibid._ p. 209.

Footnote 854:

‘Mane aut inclinato in pomeridianum tempus die, cum Lampridio et
Phædro, suavissimis pueris, et cum mulieribus nostris circum villulas
errabimus.’—_Ibid._ p. 209.

Footnote 855:

‘Lignipodas, qui in aviæ conclave quotidie cursabant.’—Faustus
Bellantes to Paleario, _Epist._ p. 97.

Footnote 856:

‘Rogatus quid primum esset generi hominum a Deo datum, in quo salutem
collocare mortales possent? Responderim CHRISTUM. Quid secundum?
CHRISTUM. Quid _tertium_? CHRISTUM.’—Palearii _Epist._ p. 99.

Footnote 857:

‘Incredibilem conspirationem scelestissimorum hominum contra te esse
factam.’—Palearii _Epist._ p. 97.

Footnote 858:

‘Cotta asserebat, me salvo, vestigium religionis in civitate reliquum
esse nullum.’—_Ibid._ p. 99.

Footnote 859:

‘Christus tamen meus mihi spem facit, quem sancte et auguste semper
colui.’—Palearii _Epist._ p. 100.

Footnote 860:

‘Sed ego jam humana contemno, fortissimo animo sum.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 861:

‘Miserrima est omnium mulierum.’—_Ibid._ p. 103.

Footnote 862:

‘In lacrymis jacet totos dies et mærore conficitur.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 863:

‘Tenues homines sed arrogantes, imperiti, loquacissimi.’—Palearii
_Opera_, p. 86.

Footnote 864:

‘Alii . . . auditis testibus, mox in ignem conjiciendum censebant,
indicata causa. Alii, causa dicta pœnam sequi oportere
putabant.’—Palearii _Opera_.

Footnote 865:

‘Testes partim e plebecula tenues, rerum de quibus testimonium
dixerunt imperiti.’—Palearii _Epist._ p. 116.

Footnote 866:

‘Alii respondentem graviter objurgatum a Sadoleto.’—Palearii _Epist._
p. 118.

Footnote 867:

‘Injuriam augere injuria, et odio cumulare odium.’—_Ibid._ p. 119.

Footnote 868:

‘Quo nemo melior, nemo sanctior circumventus est innocentissimus
Christus.’—Palearii _Epist._ p. 116.

Footnote 869:

_Oratio tertia pro se ipso._ This is the speech which the
ecclesiastical authorities of Naples cut out of all the copies of
Paleario’s works that fell into their hands, but which we have found
complete in the edition of Amsterdam, pp. 73-97.

Footnote 870:

‘Cum succus et sanguis Reipublicæ sit restitutus.’—Palearii _Opera_,
edit. Amsterdam, p. 73.

Footnote 871:

‘Homines innocentes in crucem tollas. . . . Tolleres, tolleres quidem
si quantum furor iste, superbia, iracundia affert, tantum tibi
liceret.’—_Ibid._ p. 80.

Footnote 872:

‘Res domi angusta est; at conscientia in animi penetralibus augusta,
læta, alacris.’—Palearii _Opera_, edit. Amsterdam, p. 84.

Footnote 873:

‘Sedeant illi in cathedra, diademata imponunt, dibaphum
vestiant.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 874:

‘Jacebant divina studia, strata in cellulis hominum otiosorum, qui
licet in sylvas se abstrusissent, ut in hæc incumberent; ita
stertebant tamen, ut nos in urbibus et vicis audiremus.’—Palearii
_Opera_, edit. Amsterdam, pp. 81-85.

Footnote 875:

‘Parum est accusari et deduci in carcerem, virgis cædi, reste
suspendi, insui in culeum, feris objici, ad ignem torreri nos decet,
si his suppliciis veritas in lucem est proferenda.’—Palearii _Opera_,
edit. Amsterdam, p. 91.

Footnote 876:

The fact that Paleario was the author of this book seems clearly
established by Mr. Babington, as well as by M. J. Bonnet and Mrs.
Young.

Footnote 877:

‘Nunquam iis sponsore Christo deerit pater.’—Palearii _Opera_, p. 97.

Footnote 878:

‘Præ dolore misere exanimatam.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 879:

‘Postquam in urbem profectus es, ita nescio quomodo animus meus
torpuit, ut difficillimum mihi fuerit scribere epistolam
hanc.’—Palearii _Epist._ p. 93.

Footnote 880:

‘Besonders Italien, welches dem Tyrannus am nähesten unterworfen; ja,
dessen Sitz sey.’—Seckendorff’s translation, p. 1366.

Footnote 881:

The Italian original, which is dated 5th January, 1533, is preserved
in the archives of Weimar. Seckendorff gives a German translation in
his ‘History of Lutheranism,’ pp. 1365-1367.

Footnote 882:

Mac Crie, _History of the Reformation in Italy_, p. 88.