Chapter XX (2)

Among the Italians affected by the religious movement there were many who clung to the papacy still more than Flaminio did. The scepticism which had been fashionable at the pontifical court had brought about a reaction, to which, no doubt, the writings of the reformers contributed. The wave, uplifted at Wittemberg, Zurich, and Cambridge, descending gradually towards the south, reached as far as Rome, and touched the gates of the Vatican. The men who there received the doctrine of grace in their hearts, seeing religion weakened and public worship decayed, united to found in the Trastevere—in the very spot where it was said the first Christians had assembled, and where St. Peter had dwelt—that _Oratory of Divine Love_ which was to be a kind of citadel in which they could rally their forces to preserve the divine law in its purity.[942] They were between fifty and sixty in number, ecclesiastics and laymen, and Julio Bathi, rector of the church of St. Silvester, in which their meetings were held, was the centre of that Christian association. They were not all alike. In some the hierarchical tendency ultimately stifled the evangelical spirit; but there were others whose living piety endured unto the end. On certain days they might be seen crossing the Tiber and ascending the Trastevere. Among them were two priests, who were afterwards Flaminio’s patrons—Giberto and Caraffa; Gaetano di Thiene, who founded in 1524 the order of regular Clerks or Theatines, and was canonized; Sadolet, born at Modena, secretary to Leo X., who made him Bishop of Carpentras in 1517, and Lippomano, who attained a high reputation by his writings. They were afterwards joined by a number of eminent men, among whom were Reginald Pole, whose opposition to the work of Henry VIII. had forced him to leave England; Pietro Bembo, whose house at Padua was the resort of men of letters; Gregorio Cortesi, Abbot of San Giorgio Maggiore, near Venice, and many more, among whom was one whom we must soon speak of at greater length.

[Sidenote: Members Of The Oratory.]

These men, most of whom were called to play important parts, were not the only persons who felt the influence of the revival; many a monk shut up in his convent shared in it. These were to be found particularly in the Benedictine monasteries, and among their number was Marco of Padua, who appears to have been the monk from whom Pole says he had drawn the spiritual milk of the Word. But the most striking example of this semi-evangelical, semi-monastic life was Giovanni-Battista Folengo. In his cell in the cloister of St. Benedict, he passed days and nights in the study of Scripture, and plainly ascribed the justification of the sinner to grace alone. The good Benedictine was punctual in attending matins, in fasting, in singing mass, and in confessing; but he earnestly exhorted the faithful not to put their trust in fasts, or in the mechanical repetition of the prayers prescribed by the church, or in confession, or in the mass. He was a monk and a priest, in subjection to the dignities of the Church; but, like a prophet, he hurled the flashes of his burning eloquence against the priesthood, the tonsure, and the mitre. He called for the reform of the Church; he loved evangelical Christians; he would have wished, in his profound charity, to reunite them _with the flock_. He published commentaries on the Epistles of St. Peter, St. James, and St. John; and his noble style, as well as the elevation of his Christian thoughts, caused them to be read with eagerness; but the Court of Rome, irritated by the liberty with which he expressed his faith, put his book in the Index Expurgatorius. The truth of the Latin saying—_habent sua fata libelli_ was then manifested. Folengo having written a commentary on the Psalms, expressed in it his evangelical views with great decision, especially in his remarks on the sixty-eighth Psalm. Strange to say, while his first work had been put in the Index by one pope, the second was reprinted by another pope (Gregory XIII.), with some corrections indeed, but with nothing that changed the general spirit of the work. More than one infallible pontiff has condemned what another infallible pontiff has approved of. The pious Folengo died at the age of sixty, in the same convent where he had taken the vows in his youth.[943] A man of piety less lively than Folengo’s was destined to play a more important part in the affairs of the Church at the epoch of the Reformation.

[Sidenote: Contarini, The Venetian.]

At that famous sitting of the Diet of Worms in 1521, before which Martin Luther appeared, there was present among the ambassadors from the different states of Europe, who had come to congratulate the young emperor, a senator of Venice, by name Gasper Contarini. Eldest son of one of the noble families of the republic, possessing an elevated mind formed by the study of philosophy and literature, delicate taste, exquisite judgment, elegant in his life and manners, Contarini was not favorably impressed with the celebrated reformer. These two men, who held many principles of religion and morality in common, were widely separated from each other as regards cultivation, character, and mode of life. Luther was displeasing to Contarini, and the Reformation of Germany itself, stamped with the character of the nation, did not suit the Venetian’s taste. Noble impulses acted on the reformer, order prevailed with the diplomatist. Contarini devoted three hours every day to study, never more, never less, and each time began by repeating what he had done the day before. He never abandoned the study of a science until he had mastered it.[944] One of his first writings was directed against his master the celebrated Pomponatius, who passed for an atheist. That philosopher having affirmed the impossibility of proving the immortality of the soul by reason, Contarini established it by philosophical arguments. His birth called him to the first offices of the republic, and while still young he became a member of the Venetian senate. At first he sat and listened to the deliberations of his colleagues: his modesty, and perhaps his timidity, prevented him from speaking. At length he took courage, and though he did not speak with much wit, grace, or animation, he expressed himself with such simplicity and showed such thorough knowledge of the questions under discussion, that he soon acquired great consideration. His mission to Charles V. was not limited to the embassy of Worms; he accompanied the emperor to Spain, and was there when the ship _Vittoria_ returned from the first voyage ever made round the world. People were surprised that the hardy sailors arrived a day later than the one marked in their log; it was Contarini, as it would appear, who discovered the cause. Being sent as ambassador to the pope, after the sack of Rome, he effected a reconciliation between the pontiff and Charles V., and officiated at the coronation of the emperor by Clement VII.[945]

Every one present at these pomps took notice of the Venetian ambassador, and a brilliant career seemed to lie before him. Men admired the rich gifts of his mind, the firmness and mildness of his character, the moral dignity and gravity which challenged respect. This was not all: a deep religious feeling had been developed early in his soul. At Rome he had joined the pious men who assembled at the Oratory of Divine Love on the Trastevere: he was fond of the meetings which so reminded him of those held by the disciples at Jerusalem in Mary’s house.

One day, in the year 1535, when the senate of Venice had assembled for the elections, Contarini, at that time invested with one of the most important offices of the republic, was sitting near the balloting urn. On a sudden he was told that the pope had appointed him cardinal. The news surprised him exceedingly, and at first he would not believe it: he, a layman, the magistrate of a republic, and not known to the sovereign pontiff ... to be nominated a cardinal, a prince of the Church! It appeared like a dream, and yet it was a reality. Paul III., having undertaken the task of bringing the protestants back to the Church, saw that he must employ for that purpose, not worldly prelates of the school of Leo X., but men of sincere piety; besides, Contarini had rendered services to the papacy, and hence he was invited to Rome. The report of his nomination circulated in a moment through the assembly, and his colleagues, leaving their places, gathered round to congratulate him. Even the senator who was at the head of the party opposed to him, his every-day antagonist, exclaimed, ‘The republic has lost her best citizen.’

But in the midst of these congratulations Contarini remained undecided and silent. There was a struggle in his soul. He felt it difficult to leave his friends, the country of his fathers, a free city, where he was among equals, and where he might aspire to the highest dignity, that of doge—an honor enjoyed by seven of his family; he shrank from putting himself at the service of an autocrat, often the slave of passion, of living in the midst of a corrupt clergy, in a world of simony and intrigue. However, he believed he could see the finger of God in his appointment. The Church was exposed to unprecedented danger. Could he, in such a critical hour, refuse his services and his life to that militant assembly which then claimed the support of all the servants of God? He accepted the offer.[946] Such catholics as desired to see the Church animated by a new spirit were filled with joy, which they expressed to Contarini: ‘I congratulate you,’ wrote Sadolet, ‘because you can now employ your genius and wisdom more profitably for the necessities and advantage of the Christian republic.’[947]

In becoming a cardinal, he did not intend that the golden chain should bind him to the foot of the pontifical throne: he desired to preserve his independence. Ready to devote to the catholic Church all the powers he had hitherto employed in the service of his country, he was determined to remain himself; to obey the voice of God in his conscience more than the varying caprices of the Vatican. He desired to be faithful to that internal truth which gave him sweet and constant peace. One day, when he opposed the nomination of a certain ecclesiastic to the cardinalate, the pope, who was of a contrary opinion, exclaimed: ‘Yes, yes! we know how men sail in these waters; the cardinals do not like to see another made equal to them in dignity.’ Contarini turned to the pontiff, and observed calmly: ‘I do not think the cardinal’s hat constitutes my highest honor.’[948]

[Sidenote: Contarini’s Principles.]

Opposed to the deplorable elections which were customary at Rome, the Venetian ardently desired to bring men of sound morals, learning, and piety into the sacred college. The pope, therefore, following his advice, gave the purple in succession to Sadolet, Caraffa, Giberto Bishop of Verona, Fregoso Archbishop of Salerno, and Reginald Pole. These new and strange elections seemed as if they would be favorable to the Gospel, but, on the contrary, they became the principle of a restoration of Romanism, and of a serious and ere long cruel resistance to the Reformation.

Contarini, the Melancthon of the papacy, set to work at once: he sincerely wished to reform the doctrines and morals of the Church, but to maintain it still under a sole chief. Like the reformers he laid great stress in religious matters on the positive side, but remained faithful to Roman-catholicism, by extenuating the negative side. ‘Assuredly, the sinner is justified by grace through faith,’ he would say to the evangelicals. ‘But why pronounce so harshly against meritorious works?’—‘A frank opposition to those practices,’ they replied, ‘can alone destroy the numberless abuses of popular superstition.’—‘Predestination,’ said the cardinal again, ‘belongs undoubtedly to God’s mercy; by his grace He prevents all our movements, but at the same time the will must oppose no resistance. God has known from all eternity the predestined and the reprobate, but that knowledge does not take away either contingency or liberty.’[949]—‘We recognize man’s responsibility,’ answered the reformers; ‘we believe that man must will to be saved, and yet we say with St. Paul: _God worketh in us both to will and to do_.’[950]

Contarini followed the same principle in his conversations with the champions of the papacy. ‘The unity of the Church is necessary,’ he said; ‘to separate from it is the wildest error; but the cause of the sufferings of Christendom, the root of all the evil, is the unlimited authority ascribed by its adulators to the pontifical legislation. A pope ought not to govern just as he pleases, but only in accordance with God’s commandments, the rules of reason, and the laws of charity.’ Convinced that unity of faith would gradually be restored, he devoted all his efforts to remove from the Church everything that shocked the moral sentiment; he resolutely fought against simony, and advocated the marriage of priests. He entertained no doubt that success would crown the holy work he had commenced. We shall see hereafter what became of it.

At the dawn of the Reformation, when the first gleams heralding the rising of the sun began to appear, they were probably nowhere more brilliant than in Italy, and nowhere foretokened a brighter day. Men’s souls were moved by a spirit from on high, and a new life sanctified their hearts: the primitive relation of man to God, and his personal relation to Him, which sin had destroyed, were restored. It was in the very stronghold of formalism that the adoration of God was manifested with most liberty and grace. From the Alps to Sicily, burning lights had everywhere appeared, and many rejoiced in their brightness.

[Sidenote: The Two Camps.]

Rome still remained seated on her seven hills—with her excommunications and her burning piles; but it seemed as if a new invasion—that of the Gospel and of liberty—would repair all the mischiefs committed by the inroads of the barbarians and the papacy. Two camps were formed, one to the north, the other to the south of that ancient city. On one side was Naples and the camp of Pausilippo, where a small but gallant army was assembled. A gentle light gilded the hills of Chiaja: no formidable enemy appeared in sight, and everything led to the hope that a final and successful victory would ere long be gained.

The other camp was to the north. It could not boast of such eminent men as those who watched in the ancient city of Parthenope. The throne of Ferrara was occupied by an earnest woman and devoted Christian, the daughter of Louis XII., who gave a welcome to all the fugitive soldiers of Christ; and who had made it her business to build up the city of God in Italy, and thus to work out, in a Christian manner, her father’s device: _Perdam Babylonis nomen_. About this time she was expecting at her court a young divine, who had confessed Jesus Christ in France with energy, who had just written to Francis I. an eloquent and forcible letter, and published a book in which he had set forth the great doctrines of the faith in admirable order and in language of unequalled beauty. What would be the effect of his presence beyond the Alps? No one could say; but if the duchess had influence enough over her husband to make religious liberty prevail at Ferrara; if Calvin should settle in the birthplace of Savonarola, his faith, his talents, and his activity among a people already moved by the power of God, might gain a glorious victory for the truth.

Thus two great forces met face to face—Rome and the Gospel. Curione, Paleario, Peter Martyr, and many others, asked themselves what would be the issue of the struggle then preparing in Italy. Experiencing in themselves the power of God’s Word, and seeing its marvellous effects around them, they doubted not that the Gospel would triumph in their country, as it had triumphed in other countries more to the north, and where, perhaps, less of light and life were to be found. The Reformation in Italy would doubtless present peculiar features, which, without disturbing Christian unity, would manifest national individuality. Episcopacy existed in England; the primate, Archbishop of Canterbury, remained on his throne, while submitting to the Word of God. Why might not a similar reform be effected in Rome itself? Not only evangelicals, such as Curione and Carnesecchi, but pious catholics were full of hope. ‘Ah!’ they said; ‘at the beginning of his reign the pope wonderfully excited all our expectations.[951] Putting aside institutions established by preceding popes, he resolved to conduct the supreme pontificate in a holier manner;[952] and to accomplish that task, he gathered round him men whom fame had pointed out as doctors excellent in wisdom and integrity.’ Contarini believed in a reformation which, beginning with the head, would purify all the members. ‘God,’ he said, ‘will not permit the gates of hell to prevail against his Holy Spirit. He is about to accomplish something great in the Church.’[953] The flames which he had kindled in the peninsula, and which rose higher and higher every day, appeared as if they would soon reduce to ashes the scaffolding of dead works which the papacy had set up, and to purify the temple of God.

[Sidenote: Glory To The Martyrs.]

But the times of Rome were not accomplished. The malady, with which the body of the Church was affected in Italy, was (to use the words of Cardinal Sadolet) one of those which incline the sick man to reject the remedies prescribed for him.[954] Pope Paul III., who consulted the stars more than he did the Gospel, finding at last that his attempts ended in nothing; that the Reformation was advancing, and threatening to regenerate and deliver the Church, suddenly turned upon it and endeavored to crush it. Those men who would have been the regenerators of Italy, with minds of such activity, with such varied learning and exquisite cultivation, who held converse in the finest parts of the world with the best and most illustrious of their time,—those men, the flower of their nation, soon found themselves constrained to escape beyond the Alps, or saw themselves condemned by cruel pontiffs, insulted by ignorant priests, and conducted ignominiously to some public square in Rome, there to be beheaded and have their bodies cast into the fire.... The heart shrinks at the thought, and an inner voice seems to say: ‘If Carnesecchi, Paleario, and all the noble army of martyrs were disowned by their contemporaries; if coarse monks jeered at them, if they were covered with opprobrium; there are now thousands of Christians in the world who love them as fathers, honor them as victorious heroes of the Gospel of peace, and preserve a grateful remembrance of them in their hearts.

Footnote 883:

‘Tu vero, ut audio, sic illum (Alfonsum) refers et corporis specie et
ingenii dexteritate, ut non duo gemelli, sed idem prorsus homo videri
possitis.’—Erasmi _Epist._ 938 et 1030.

Footnote 884:

‘Fue secretario de la Magestad del Emperador.’—_Hist. de la Ciudad de
Cuenza_, quoted by E. Bœhmer.

Footnote 885:

‘Ab Alfonso Valdesio, magnæ spei juvene.’—Petri Martyris Anghierii
_Epist._ p. 689.

Footnote 886:

_Dialogo sulle Coso accadute in Roma._

Footnote 887:

Mr. Bœhmer, of the university of Halle, has done good service to
literature and to the history of religion by reprinting at Halle, in
1860, the _Cento e dieci divine Considerazioni di Giovanni Valdesso_,
and by carefully studying the history of the two brothers. He has
communicated the result of his researches in his _Cenni Biografici_,
and in the conscientious paper he has contributed to the Encyclopædia
of our learned friend M. Herzog.

Footnote 888:

It has been stated that this dialogue was written in 1521; but it
begins with the history of the challenge sent by Francis I. to Charles
V., which occurred at the beginning of 1528.

Footnote 889:

These two dialogues, which have been recently reprinted in Spanish,
were translated into Italian and German, and the last (_Charon and
Mercury_) into French.

Footnote 890:

History of the Reformation of the Sixteenth Century, vol. iv. bk. xiv.
ch. v.

Footnote 891:

‘In disciplina fraterna præclare institutus, in Hispania vivere non
potuit.’—_Francisco Enzinas to Melancthon._

Footnote 892:

‘Longe majorem mentium stragem dedit, quam multa illa hæreticorum
militum millia.’—Ant. Caracciolo, _de Vita Pauli IV._ p. 239.

Footnote 893:

‘Non però ha egli seguito molto la corte dopo che gli fu rivelato
Christo.’—_Epist. de Curione_ at the end of the _Cento e dieci divine
Considerazioni_ of J. Valdez, p. 433.

Footnote 894:

His _Dialogo de la Lengua_ was first printed at Madrid in 1737, and
again in 1860.

Footnote 895:

‘Era di tanta benignità e carità, che a ogni piccola e bassa e rozza
persona si rendeva debitore.’—Curione, _Epist._ p. 433.

Footnote 896:

‘Ma più onorato e splendido cavaliere di Cristo.’—Curione, _Epist._ p.
433.

Footnote 897:

‘Ad ipsos fontes se totum contulit.’—Simler, _Vita Vermilii_.

Footnote 898:

‘In hac urbe gratia divinæ illuminationis illustrius ac clarius illi
effulgere.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 899:

‘Loci amœnitatem.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 900:

‘Quotidie pæne cum amicis qui puræ religionis studiosi erant aliquid
ex sanis litteris commentabatur.’—Simler, _Vita Vermilii_.

Footnote 901:

1 Corinth. iii. 13-15.

Footnote 902:

‘Quod si e vestigio prava dogmata non patefiant, accessione temporis
declarantur.’—Petri Martyris _Loci Communes; de Purgatorio Igne_, p.
440.

Footnote 903:

‘Dies ergo accipitur, cum tenebræ depellentur, ut de re, prout ipsa
est, judicium feratur.’—_Ibid._ p. 441.

Footnote 904:

‘Ad ignem divini examinis perstare illas oportet.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 905:

‘Est itaque ignis et dies, clara inspectio, certa probatio, perspicua
revelatio, qua tandem cognoscemus doctrinarum veritatem, earum denique
fallaciam.’—Petri Martyris _Loci Communes: de Purgatorio Igne_. These
may not be the exact words used by Peter Martyr in his sermon, but the
sense was the same.

Footnote 906:

This is the person whom Flaminio mentions in a letter to Galeazzo,
printed in Schelhorn’s _Amœnit. Eccles._ ii. p. 132: ‘Johannes
Franciscus magna lætitia affecit me,’ &c.

Footnote 907:

Calvin to Signor Galeazzo Caraccioli, a man of noble birth, and still
more renowned for the excellence of his virtues than for the nobility
of his family, the only son and lawful heir to the Marquis of
Vico.—Dèdicace de la 1ére Epître aux Corinthiens: _Commentaires_.

Footnote 908:

Trajetto, the ancient Minturnæ, where Marius hid himself.

Footnote 909:

‘Che a colui, il quale Dio disinnamora del mondo ed innamora di se,
avvengano quasi tutte le medesime cose che a colui che si disinnamora
d’ una donna e s’innamora d’ un’ altra.’—23 _Considerazione: Valdez
Cento e dieci divine Considerazioni_.

Footnote 910:

The _Cento e dieci divine Considerarioni_ of Giovanni Valdesso (Juan
Valdez) were published at Halle in Saxony in 1860 by Edward Bœhmer.
Each of the meditations occupies from two to ten pages. They have been
reprinted recently at Madrid in Spanish.

Footnote 911:

‘Cajetanus, perspicaci vir ingenio, rem odorari cœpit.’—Caracciolo.
_Vita Pauli IV._

Footnote 912:

‘Illi Satanicæ reipublicæ triumviri.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 913:

Sadoleti _Epist._ p. 558. Schrœk, _Kirchengeschichte_, ii. p. 780.

Footnote 914:

_Abecedario espiritual_, fols. 11-12. Valdez gives a full report of
this conversation in his _Spiritual Abecedary_, which he so called
because it was intended to teach the elements of Christian perfection.
There is no doubt as to the genuineness of the dialogues he reports,
for the duchess asked him to commit what he had said to her to paper.
Did Valdez, when doing so, complete any of his answers? It is very
possible. In Herzog’s _Encyclopædia_, M. Bœhmer has given an extract
from this dialogue, much longer than the limits of this history will
permit us to do.

Footnote 915:

_Abecedario espiritual_ fol. 26. On this point Valdez is quite in
harmony with the reformers.

Footnote 916:

_Ibid._, fol. 27.

Footnote 917:

_Abecedario espiritual_, fols. 36, 37, 38.

Footnote 918:

_Ibid._, fols. 44, 45, 47, 50, 52, 53.

Footnote 919:

_Abecedario espiritual_, fols. 57, 58.

Footnote 920:

_Ibid._, fol. 68.

Footnote 921:

These _Commentaries_ have recently been reprinted in Spain.

Footnote 922:

‘Convictus quod in Italia, cum Victoria Colonna Marchionis Piscarii
vidua et Julia Gonzaga, lectissimis alioquin feminis, de pravitate
sectaria suspectis, amicitiam coluisset, tandem ad ignem damnatus.’—De
Thou, _ad annum_ 1567. Schelhorn, _Amænitates Ecclesiasticæ_, ii. p.
187.

Footnote 923:

The name of Carnesecchi still exists in Florence; the Latin documents
which we use give it under the form of Carneseca.

Footnote 924:

‘Literarum bonarum scientia . . . ad perspiciendum acerrimi sensus
. . . cupiditas verum magnarum.’—Notice of _Camerarius_, the friend of
Melancthon, in Schelhornii _Amœnit. Literar._ x. p. 1201.

Footnote 925:

‘Pontificatum illius temporis magis a Petro Carneseca geri quam a
Clemente.’—_Camerarius_ in Schelhorn, _Amœnit. Literar._ x. p. 1202.

Footnote 926:

‘Carneseca commoratus aliquantulum in regno Neapolitano.’—_Camerarius_
in Schelhorn, _Amœnit. Literar._ x. p. 1203.

Footnote 927:

‘Carolum V. accercisse Carnesecam, ut ex ipso eliceret arcana consilia
pontificis Clementis, quæ hic credebatur cum Francisco rege Galliarum
Massiliæ inivisse.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 928:

‘Tunc etiam boni viri officium neutiquam violavit.’—_Ibid._

Footnote 929:

‘Cum quibus de sacrarum literarum lectione et intelligentia disserere
conferreque accurate solebat.’—Schelhorn, _Amœnit. Literar._ x. p.
1204.

Footnote 930:

‘Justificatio per solam fidem . . . Gratiæ et salutis certitudo
habetur . . . Nulli credendum, nisi Verbo Dei, in Sacris Scripturis
tradito.’—Schelhorn, _Amœnit. Eccles._ ii. pp. 197-205.

Footnote 931:

‘Puerum parvulum cum patre fugiente turbulentam dissentionem civium
suorum.’—_Camerarius_ in Schelhorn, _Amœnit. Literar._ x. p. 1149.

Footnote 932:

‘Adolescentem tueamur, in vestiario tantum laboramus.’—Longoli
_Epist._ lib. iv. fol. 271.

Footnote 933:

‘Veram et salutarem sapientiam esse statuisset cognitionem
sacrarum literarum, id est, rerum divinarum Verbo Dei æterno
proditarum.’—_Camerarius_ in Schelhorn, _Amœnit. Literar._ x. p.
1150.

Footnote 934:

_Ibid._ p. 1152.

Footnote 935:

‘Cum Gibertus pontifex Veronensis, homo literarum divinarum
amantissimus, a me summo studio contenderet, ut hymnos Davidis
breviter ac dilucide interpretarer, studiose istum laborem
suscepi.’—Flaminii _Psalmorum Explanatio_, Lugduni, 1576, præf. 12.

Footnote 936:

‘Et tum factum est ut in periculosum morbum incideret.’—_Camerarius_
in Schelhorn, _Amœnit. Literar._ x. p. 1158.

Footnote 937:

‘Nos Deo reconciliavit, se ipsum in cruce immolans, et omnia peccata
nostra suo purissimo sanguine delens.’—Flaminii _Psalmorum Explicatio_
(Epistola nuncupatoria Alex. Farnesio, Cardinali amplissimo), p. 9.

Footnote 938:

‘Hunc enim, præ cæteris omnibus, magnopere dilexit et admiratus
est.’—_De religione_ Flaminii. Schelhorn, _Amœnit. Eccles._ p. 50.

Footnote 939:

This correspondence took place in the year 1543, and is found in
Schelhorn’s _Amœnitates Ecclesiasticæ_, ii. pp. 146-179.

Footnote 940:

‘O dulce hospitium! O lares beati!
O mores faciles! O Atticorum
Conditæ sale collocutiones!
Quam vos ægro animo et laborioso
Quantis cum lacrymis miser relinquo!’

Schelhorn, _Amœnit. Literar._ x. p. 1199.

Footnote 941:

‘Protonotario Carnesecæ.’—Schelhorn _Amœnit. Eccles._ p. 154.

Footnote 942:

‘Cosi maltrato il culto divino, si unirono in un’ oratorio chiamato
del _Divino Amore_.’—Caracciolo, _Vita di Paolo IV._ _Vita Cajetani
Thienæi_, i. pp. 7-10.

Footnote 943:

De Thou, _Histoire_, liv. xxiii. _Le Mire de Scriptor. sæculi_ xvi.,
&c.

Footnote 944:

Joannis Casæ _Vita Gasparis Contarini_, p. 88. Ranke, _Römische
Päpste_, i. p. 152. Herzog, _Encyclopédie Théologique_.

Footnote 945:

Beccatello, _Vita del Contarini_, p. 103. Ranke, _Römische Päpste_, i.
p. 153.

Footnote 946:

Jean de la Case, _Vie du Cardinal Contarini_, Lettere Volgari, i. 73.
Moreri, art. _Contarini_.

Footnote 947:

‘Gratulor tibi quod habiturus sis locum tui et ingenii et animi
in Christianæ reipublicæ utilitate et commodis uberius
explicandi.’—Sadoletus Contareno, 3 Novemb. 1535, _Epist._ p.
330.

Footnote 948:

Ranke, _Die Römische Päpste_, i. p. 155.

Footnote 949:

Contarini, _De Prædestinatione_. _De Libero Arbitrio._ Contarini’s
theological, philosophical, and political treatises were printed at
Paris in 1571.

Footnote 950:

Philippians ii. 13.

Footnote 951:

‘Is Paulus [tertius], sui pontificatus initio, spem atque
expectationem omnium mirabiliter erexit.’—Florebelli _vita Sadoleti
cardinalis_, p. 708.

Footnote 952:

‘Sublatis eis quæ a superioribus pontificibus Romanis instituta,
sanctiorem gerendi summi pontificatus rationem instituere.’—_Ibid._ p.
709.

Footnote 953:

Contarini, Weizsæcker, _Theol. Encyclop._

Footnote 954:

‘Ægrotat enim corpus reipublicæ, et eo morbi genere ægrotat quod
præscriptam medicinam respuit.’—_Sadolet to Contarini_ March, 1536.
Sadoleti _Epist._ p. 342.

● Transcriber’s Notes:
○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected.
○ Typographical errors were silently corrected.
○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only
when a predominant form was found in this book.
○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
○ Footnotes have been moved to follow the chapters in which they are
referenced.