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.

CHAPTER XX.

THE GOSPEL AT NAPLES AND ROME.

(1520-1536.)

The Gospel had made noble conquests in the north and centre of the

peninsula: it did the same at Naples, and even at Rome.

It was not the Italians alone who spread the Gospel in Italy. Among the

contemporaries and acquaintances of Paleario, Peter Martyr, and Occhino,

were two twin brothers, descended from one of the oldest families of

Leon in Spain, Juan and Alfonso di Valdez. They were so much alike, that

Erasmus, who knew Alfonso, wrote to Juan: ‘They tell me you are so like

your brother, both in figure and in talent, that when people see you,

they do not take you for twins, but for the same person. I shall regard

you, then, as one, and not two individuals.’[883] And, indeed, some

historians, understanding literally what Erasmus merely intended for a

pleasant jest, have converted the two brothers into one person. One of

them disappears, and it is usually Alfonso: his actions are recorded,

but they are ascribed to Juan. The two Valdez were born in 1500, at

Cuença, in New Castile, of which their father was corregidor in 1520.

Charles V. made Alfonso his secretary,[884] and took him with him when

he left Spain in 1520, to receive the imperial crown at Aix-la-Chapelle.

In the following year the young Spaniard was among the gentlemen who

attended the emperor at Worms, when Luther made his famous appearance

before the Diet. Luther’s writings having been condemned by imperial

decree to be burnt, Alfonso, whom all these events interested in the

highest degree, desired to be present at the execution of the sentence.

When the monks, who surrounded and fed the fire saw all the heretical

paper converted into black ashes, as thin as a spider’s web, and blown

to and fro by the wind, they exclaimed: ‘There is nothing more to fear

now: it is all over;’ and then went away. But such was not Alfonso’s

opinion. ‘They call it the end of the tragedy,’ he wrote to his friend

Peter Martyr of Anghiera (who must not be confounded with Vermigli),

‘but I believe we are only at the beginning of it.’ Valdez, whom

everybody looked upon as a youth of great expectation,[885] became

intimate with Erasmus; perhaps at the suggestion of the emperor, who,

like Francis I., would willingly have united with the prince of the

schools, in order to become master of Luther and the pope, and if

possible to reconcile them. Alfonso, who was a great admirer of Erasmus,

was considered to be more Erasmian than Erasmus himself; but the

disciple went further and higher than the teacher. Erasmus was the

bridge by which Alfonso crossed the river, and passed from Rome to the

Gospel.

[Sidenote: A Dialogue By Valdez.]

In May, 1527, the emperor and his court were at Valladolid, where the

empress awaited her confinement. Valdez was there also. On a sudden the

news arrived of the famous sack of Rome by the troops of Charles V. The

indignation of the clergy, the agitation of the people, and the emotion

of the courtiers were extreme. Although grieved by the excess of which

the capital of Romanism had been the theatre, Alfonso believed it was

the season to say what he thought of the papacy, and consequently he

wrote and published a ‘Dialogue on the Things which happened at

Rome.’[886] The afflictions of the metropolis of catholicism, he says,

have dispersed a great number of its inhabitants; a Roman archbishop,

escaping from the disaster, arrives at Valladolid, and in the town where

a prince (the future Philip II.) had just been born, he meets one of the

emperor’s knights, by name Lactontio. The guilt of these disasters, says

the knight, lies with the pope, who, as instigator of the war and

unfaithful to his oaths, has dishonored his holy calling. Lactontio

draws one of those contrasts of light and darkness, between Christ and

the pontiff, which Luther’s pen could describe so well, but which were

quite new in the ‘most catholic’ kingdom. He goes even further, and

declares for the separation of the spiritual from the temporal power.

‘Is it useful, is it advantageous,’ he asks, ‘for the high priests of

Christendom to possess temporal power? We believe they could occupy

themselves much more freely with spiritual interests if they had not

this great burden of secular things. In all Christendom there is not a

state worse governed than the States of the Church. Erasmus pointed out

the faults of the Court of Rome, but his gentle remonstrances did not

touch you. Then God permitted Martin Luther unsparingly to expose all

your vices in broad daylight, and to detach many churches from their

obedience to you. It was all of no use; neither the respectful advice of

Erasmus nor the irreverent language of Luther could convince Rome of its

errors. God, therefore, had recourse to other appeals, and permitted the

calamities of war to fall upon your impenitent city.’ Here the

archdeacon, much more sensitive about the punishment of Rome than about

its faults, exclaims with mingled sorrow and naïveté: ‘Alas! the sacking

of the city has occasioned a loss of fifteen millions of ducats. Rome

will never become Rome again, even in half a century. The holy church of

St. Peter has been turned into a stable. For forty days not a single

mass has been said in the metropolis of Christendom. Even the bones of

the Apostles were scattered about.’ ‘The relics of the saints should be

honored,’ remarks the knight. ‘Let us understand one another, however; I

do not speak of those which require believers to solve some very thorny

problems—to decide, for instance, whether the mother of the Virgin had

two heads or the Virgin had two mothers.... We should place all our hope

in Jesus Christ alone. Honor images, if you like, but do not dishonor

Jesus Christ, and do not let Paradise be shut against the man who has no

money in his purse.’[887]

This sharp attack, levelled at the papacy, was the more important, as

before the dialogue was published and circulated in Spain, Italy, and

Germany, it had been submitted by Valdez to several men of mark: to Don

Juan Manuel, formerly ambassador of the emperor at Rome, to the

celebrated imperial chancellor Gattinara, to Doctor Carrasco, and

several other theologians, who with a few unimportant observations, had

approved it. Count Castiglione, the papal nuncio, was not to be

deceived; he made a violent attack upon the imperial secretary, called

him a Lutheran, and declared that he could already see him wearing the

ignominious costume of the _autos da fé_.

[Sidenote: Mercury And Charon.]

Alfonso was silent; but a voice was raised in his defence—it was that of

his twin brother. In 1528[888] Juan published a _Dialogue_, half serious

and half in jest, _between Mercury and Charon_, which bears the mark of

a young writer. While the ferryman of Hades is busy taking over the

souls which come to him on the banks of the Styx, he is accosted by the

messenger of heaven, who makes use of strong language about the papacy.

‘So great is the corruption of those who call themselves Christians,’ he

says, ‘that I should consider it a great insult if they wanted to change

their name and be called _Mercurians_. One day,’ he continues, ‘seeing a

number of people approaching the altar to receive the host, I followed

them, with the pious design of partaking one of the wafers the priests

were distributing. But I was refused; and why? Solely because I would

not pay for it.’ Then, turning to the relics, whose dispersion was

considered to be the greatest outrage in the sack of Rome, Juan

introduces St. Peter, and puts wiser words into his mouth on this

subject than those of Mercury. According to the fervent apostle, the

plunder of Rome teaches Christians that they ought to set more value

upon one of the epistles of St. Paul or of himself than upon all the

_relics_ of their bodies. ‘The homage hitherto paid to our bones,’ he

continues, ‘must now be paid to the spirit which, for the good of

Christians, we have enshrined in our writings.’ But the satire

immediately begins again. At the thought of the sack of Rome, Mercury

bursts out into an ‘Olympian laugh.’ ‘Behold the judgment of God!’ he

says; ‘the sellers have been sold, the robbers have been robbed, and the

ill-doers ill-done!’ And when Charon complains that the pretended vicars

of heaven often forget to keep their word, ‘It is quite the rule,’

answers Mercury, ‘that at the place where the best wine grows you drink

the worst; that the cobbler is always ill-shod, and the barber never

shaved.’ The dialogues of the twin brothers, so full of wit and yet of

Christian truth, excited loud recriminations; for the moment, however,

persecution did not touch them. It is true, the priests raised a violent

storm against them; but they were protected by the name of Charles V. In

March, 1529, Erasmus wrote to Juan, congratulating him on having escaped

safe and sound from the tempest.[889]

When the emperor returned to Germany, Alfonso accompanied him. At

Augsburg, in 1530, as we have said in another place,[890] he played the

part of mediator between Charles V. and the protestants, and immediately

translated the celebrated evangelical confession into Spanish. But in

April, 1533, when Charles V. embarked at Genoa on his return to Spain,

Valdez remained in Italy. If he had accompanied his master, even that

powerful monarch, it was said, could not have preserved him from the

death the monks were preparing for him. From this period Alfonso seems

to have shared his time between Germany and Italy: henceforward his

brother occupies the foremost place. He was converted to the Gospel

after Alfonso, but eventually outstripped him.

[Sidenote: Juan Valdez At Naples.]

Juan had been forced to leave his native country.[891] He did not go to

Germany, as some have said, confounding him with his brother; but

henceforward he occupies an important position in Italy. In 1531 he went

to Naples, thence he proceeded to Rome, returning again to Naples in

1534, where he spent the remainder of his days. Some zealous

protestants, who formed part of the German army, and had been sent, in

1528, to drive off the French, who were besieging that city, were the

first to propagate the knowledge of the Gospel in that district. ‘But

when Juan Valdez arrived,’ says the Roman-catholic Caracciolo, ‘he alone

committed greater ravages among souls than many thousands of heretic

soldiers had done.’[892] Some have thought that he occupied the post of

secretary to the viceroy of Naples. But if he had an office at court, he

soon resigned it to enjoy his independence. ‘He did not frequent the

court very much,’ says Curione, ‘after Christ was revealed to him.’[893]

Persecution had made Juan more serious; the experiences of his inner

life had matured him; he was still busy with literature and

languages,[894] but he loved the Gospel above everything, and sought to

make it known by his conversation as well as by his writings. There was

such grace in his mind, such peace and innocence in his features, such

attraction in his character, that he exercised an irresistible charm

over all who came near him. He soon gathered a circle of scholars and

gentlemen about him; he strove to extricate them from their worldliness,

to convince them of the nothingness of their own righteousness, and to

lead them to the salvation that is in Christ Jesus. He was even a torch

to enlighten some of the most celebrated preachers of Italy. ‘I know

it,’ says Curione, ‘for I have heard it from their own mouths.’ But at

the same time he had so much love in his heart and so much simplicity in

his manners, that he put the poor at their ease, and won the confidence

even of the rudest men, the lazzaroni of that day. He became all things

to all men to bring souls to Christ.[895] Valdez was not robust; he was

thin, and his limbs were weak; and it would appear that the state of his

health induced him to settle at Naples. ‘But,’ said his friends, ‘one

part of his soul served to animate his delicate and puny nature, while

the greater part of that clear, bright spirit was devoted to the

contemplation of truth.’ He generally collected his friends together at

Chiaja, near Pausilippo and Virgil’s tomb, in a villa whose gardens

looked over the wide sea, in front of the island of Nisida. In that

delightful country ‘where Nature exults in her magnificence and smiles

on all who behold her,’ Juan Valdez, and such as were attracted by the

loveliness of his doctrine and the holiness of his life, passed hours

and days never to be forgotten. He was not content to admire with them

the magnificence of nature; he introduced them to the magnificence of

grace. ‘An honored and brilliant knight of the emperor,’ says Curione,

‘he was a still more honored and brilliant knight of Jesus Christ.’[896]

[Sidenote: Peter Martyr Vermigli.]

Among the eminently gifted men who gathered round him was Peter Martyr

Vermigli, abbot of St. Peter’s _ad aram_. Peter Martyr, as we have said,

had gone from Spoleto to Naples in 1530, where he had made great

progress in the knowledge of the Gospel. Nothing could divert him from

the search after truth; neither fear of the world, nor the great income

he possessed, nor the high dignity with which he was invested. That

earnest soul, that profound mind, pursued after the knowledge of God

with indefatigable zeal. Being called to give drink to the sheep which,

attracted by his voice, crowded to the sheepfold, he was thirsty

himself, and alas! he had no water. He experienced that tormenting, that

bitter, that violent thirst under which the strongest men sometimes give

way. It was then he heard those words of Christ: _If any man thirst, let

him come unto me and drink_. He knew that man _comes_ to Christ by

faith,—by believing in his holiness, in his love, in his promises, and

in his almighty power to save. Putting scholasticism aside, and no

longer contenting himself with the Fathers of the Church, he hastened to

the fountain of Scripture and drank of the cup of salvation.[897] He

knew the fulness of grace which is in the Redeemer, and understood how

those who seek consolation elsewhere labor in vain. Growing more

enlightened every day by the Spirit of God, he discovered the grievous

errors of the Church and the simple grandeur of the Gospel. It was at

Naples that the light of the divine Word shone into his soul with

increasing glory and splendor.[898] Vermigli admired the beauties of

creation,[899] the sea glittering in the sunshine, and the graceful

promontories of the bay; but he loved still better to plunge into the

mysterious splendors of grace. He did not confine himself to the

writings of the Apostles, but added those of the reformers,—of Bucer,

Zwingle, Luther, and Melancthon. Zwingle’s treatise on _False and True

Religion_ showed him the necessity of returning to the simplicity and

primitive customs of the Church. Almost every day he conversed upon Holy

Scripture with friends who, like himself, loved religion pure and

undefiled, and principally with Flaminio and Valdez.[900] But above all

things he sought to impart by preaching the light which he had received.

[Sidenote: Purgatorial Fire.]

To this end Vermigli undertook to preach on the First Epistle to the

Corinthians, which he did in the presence of a large audience, including

even bishops. When he came to the third chapter,[901] he first showed

what was the foundation upon which the whole of Christian doctrine must

be built: _For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which

is Jesus Christ_, says the Apostle. But what is built on that stone?

When the architect has laid the foundations of the edifice he intends to

raise, he employs various materials to complete the work. Marble,

porphyry, and jasper shall form the pillars, the mantel-pieces, the

pavement, and the statues; gold and silver will serve for the internal

decorations; but there will also be wood and paper, stubble and other

coarse materials employed in the structure. It is so with the edifice of

God. On the foundation, which is Christ, we must build sound doctrines

which flow from Christ himself, from his divinity, truth, grace, and

spirit. If false doctrines are substituted for them,—doctrines

proceeding from man’s own righteousness and from the darkness with which

sin has overshadowed his understanding, what will happen? When a

conflagration breaks out, the fire makes manifest the divers materials

with which the house was built: the flame consumes the wood and stubble;

but it attacks in vain the marble and the jasper, the silver and gold:

these it cannot destroy. So it will be with the doctrines taught in the

Church. ‘False teachings cannot eternally pass for true,’ said Peter

Martyr. ‘There is nothing hidden which shall not be revealed; if the

falsehood of the dogmas put forth is not detected at the first, time

will make it known.[902] The day will come when every error hidden under

an appearance of truth shall be declared to be error in the most

striking manner; all darkness shall be scattered, everything will be

valued in conformity with its strict reality.[903] The eternal judgment

of God is the _fire that shall try every man’s work_. It is not enough

that the doctrines should be approved by the judgment of men, they must

be able to stand before the fire of God’s trial.[904] The day and the

fire of which the Apostle speaks are the piercing investigation, the

sure touchstone, which will enable us at last to distinguish between

true doctrines and false.[905] _Gold, stubble, fire_—they are all

metaphors.’

Peter Martyr’s audience, and especially the ecclesiastics, were unable

to conceal their surprise. The passage which he thus explained was that

on which the Romish Church based the doctrine of purgatorial fire; but

the learned doctor found something quite different in it. The priests

and monks not only saw that precious fire taken away from which they had

derived so much profit, but saw another fire substituted for it, which

threatened to consume their traditions and practices, _their hay and

stubble_. And hence the sermon aroused a storm in the hitherto calm

waters of Naples. The monks accused the prior of St. Peter’s _ad aram_,

and his friends of Chiaja defended him. His enemies succeeded in closing

the pulpit against him; but on the intervention of the powerful

protectors he possessed at Rome, his liberty of preaching was restored.

[Sidenote: Illustrious Women At Chiaja.]

This petty persecution was salutary to the Christian circle at Chiaja.

It grew wider, and its meetings were attended by nobles and scholars,

among others by Benedetto Gusano de Verceil, and a Neapolitan nobleman,

Giovanni Francesco Caserta.[906] The latter had a young relative, at

that time living in the midst of the splendors of the world. The Marquis

Caraccioli, one of the grandees of Naples, had an only son, Galeazzo.

Ardently desiring to perpetuate his name, he married him early to a

wealthy heiress, Vittoria, daughter of the Duke of Nocera, who bore him

four sons and two daughters. As soon as the old marquis saw that his

desire for posterity would be satisfied, he turned his ambition in

another direction, and sent his son to the court of the emperor, who

invested him with one of the great offices of his household. As Galeazzo

was not always on service, he returned from time to time to Naples,

where he gave himself up entirely to the vanities of the world, to the

pleasures of the earth, and to projects of ambition. A close friendship,

however, bound him to the pious Caserta. The Christian, taking advantage

of this intimacy, spoke to the worldling about the Word of God and the

only way of salvation which is Christ Jesus; but after these

conversations, the youthful chamberlain of Charles V. would hurry off to

theatre or ball. Caserta took him to hear Peter Martyr; and then

thinking that a society so cultivated as that which met at Chiaja might

perhaps win over his friend, he introduced him to Valdez. For some time

longer the seed continued to fall among thorns; but a little later the

young marquis received with joy the salvation of the Gospel, and,

desiring to remain faithful to it, he took refuge in Geneva. Calvin, who

welcomed him like a son, dedicated one of his writings to him, to show

his respect for the firmness of his faith. Although Caraccioli ‘did not

court the applause of men, and was content to have God alone for a

witness,’ the reformer, when he saw the illustrious Neapolitan refugee,

exclaimed with emotion: ‘Here is a man of ancient house and great

parentage, flourishing in honors and in goods, having a noble and

virtuous wife, a family of children, quiet and peace in his house, in

short, happy in everything that concerns the state of this life, but who

has voluntarily abandoned the place of his birth to stand beneath the

banner of Christ. He made no difficulty in leaving his lordship, a

fertile and pleasant country, a great and rich patrimony, a convenient,

comfortable, and cheerful palace; he broke up his household, he left

father, wife, children, relations, and friends, and after abandoning so

many allurements of the world, he is content with our littleness, and

lives frugally according to the habits of the commonalty—neither more

nor less than any one of us.’[907]

In the select society which gathered round Valdez, there were also, as

at Thessalonica in the days of St. Paul, _of the chief women not a few_.

Among these high-born dames was Vittoria Colonna, widow of that famous

general the Marquis of Pescara, a woman illustrious for her beauty, and

her talent, whose poems were much admired at the time, and in whose

society, the poet Bernardo Tasso, father of him who wrote the ‘Jerusalem

Delivered,’ and Cardinal Bembo, learned some of the truths of the

Gospel. There also might be seen Isabella di Bresegna, to whom Curione

dedicated the works of Olympia Morata; but above all Guilia di Gonzaga,

widow of Vespasiano Colonna, Duke of Trajetto,[908] the most beautiful

woman in Italy. So great was the reputation of her beauty in Europe, and

even beyond it, that Barbarossa the corsair determined to carry her off.

Having undertaken in 1534 to terrify Naples, he suddenly appeared before

that city with a hundred sail, and landing near Fondi, between Gaeta and

Terracina, where the duchess was living on her estate, he tried to

surprise her; but she escaped the bird of prey, though not without

difficulty. This attempt was one of the motives which determined Charles

to undertake the expedition to Tunis. It is thus that men and women, of

whom the 16th century is proud, adorned the evangelical circle of

Chiaja.

While Valdez reposed on the beautiful hills of Pausilippo, in the midst

of orange and fig trees, and in front of the wide sea, he loved to

indulge peacefully in religious meditations, and not unfrequently the

thoughts with which he was busy formed the subject of interesting

conversations with his friends. Certain topics—_Considerazioni_, as he

called them—occupied a mind at once eminently original and Christian.

Virgil’s tomb, which was situated a few paces off, might have suggested

other thoughts: the dying poet had ordered the following words to be

carved on his sepulchre:

_Parthenope, cecini pascua, rura, duces._

The country life and the warlike exploits which the prince of Latin

poets sang have great attractions to many minds; but the visitors at

Pausilippo, whose history we are relating, had higher aspirations, and

conversed on topics which it is our duty to record.

‘In what do the sons of God differ,’ they asked, ‘from the sons of

Adam?—Why is the state of a Christian who believes with difficulty

better than that of him who believes with ease?—Why does God give a

child to a Christian and suddenly take it away?—The man from whom God

takes away the love of the world, and to whom He gives the love of God,

experiences nearly the same thing as he who ceases to love one woman and

becomes enamored of another.[909]—To believe with difficulty is the sign

of a call from God.—Those who tread the Christian path without the

inward light of the Holy Spirit, are like those who walk by night

without the light of the sun.—How can God make himself _felt_, and how

can he permit himself to be _seen_?—The evils of curiosity, and how we

ought to read the Scriptures without curiosity.—Why are the

superstitious severe, while true Christians are merciful?—How God reigns

by Christ, and Christ is the head of the Church.—The three kinds of

conscience: that of the natural law, that of the written law, and that

of the Gospel.—Is justification the fruit of piety, or piety the fruit

of justification?—How does it happen that the wicked cannot believe,

that the superstitious believe easily, and that pious men believe with

difficulty?—How to resist the imaginations which confuse our Christian

faith.’—Such are some of the thoughts with which the noblest minds were

then busy on the enchanting shores of the bay of Naples.[910]

[Sidenote: The Sermons Of Occhino.]

The sermons of the celebrated Occhino helped to give a wider circulation

to the thoughts which engrossed the evangelicals of Chiaja. In the early

part of 1536, the great orator of Italy was invited to Naples to preach

the Lent course. Valdez immediately felt the living faith by which the

orator was animated: he became intimate with him, and introduced him to

the Christian circle around him. The well-known name of Occhino, his

strange appearance, his coarse dress, and reputation for holiness,

attracted an immense crowd to the church of S. Giovanni Maggiore. He

seemed called to scatter among the people the religious ideas which

Valdez and Peter Martyr were propagating among the noble and the

learned. De Vio, Cardinal of Gaeta, before whom Luther had appeared, was

a man of singular perspicacity, and he immediately suspected

heresy.[911] Struck with the power of the three doctors, he fancied he

saw the formation of a league, one of those triumvirates which destroyed

the Roman republic. ‘These triumvirs of the republic of Satan,’[912] he

said, ‘are circulating doctrines of startling novelty, and even of

detestable impiety about purgatory, the power of the sovereign pontiff,

freewill, and the justification of the sinner.’ The cardinal protested

in vain: not only the Christian society of Naples, but a great crowd of

the nobility and people, attended Occhino’s sermons.

[Sidenote: Struggles Of Giulia.]

The beautiful Duchess of Trajetto did not miss one of them. She was at

that time suffering under great domestic trouble: her brother Luigi,

wishing to recover a castle that had been taken from his sister,

perished in the assault, and Luigi’s widow, Isabella Colonna, who was

also the duchess’s daughter-in-law, went to law with her for a portion

of her inheritance. Giulia, roused by her vexations from the worldly

indifference in which she had lived, sought consolation in God, and

hoped to find in Occhino’s words a relief from her sorrow. An event

which at this time gave splendor to Naples might have diverted her from

these thoughts: the emperor arrived, and held a brilliant court. It was

natural that the monarch and the daughter of Gonzaga should meet, for he

had desired to avenge her when he gave up Tunis to be pillaged; but

Giulia would willingly have dispensed with the honor done to her in

Africa. Besides, her troubles and the awakening of her mind estranged

her from the court; the great lady, the ornament of every fête, did not

appear at those which were given to Charles V. If they did not meet at

court or ball, they probably met at church. The emperor having heard

much of the great orator of Italy, went like the rest to the church of

S. Giovanni Maggiore. He was surprised and struck by Occhino’s

eloquence, and said as he went out: ‘That monk would make the very

stones weep.’[913]

It was easier to draw tears from Giulia Gonzaga’s eyes. That young

woman, whose heart was wrung by sorrow, was agitated more and more every

day by the powerful words of the great preacher; and it was at this time

that the Christian life truly began in her. One day, as she was leaving

the church of S. Giovanni Maggiore, Juan Valdez observed her emotion,

and accompanied her to her palace. The stricken and agitated widow

begged him to stay and enlighten her, and made known to him the

distress, the hopes, and the struggles of her soul. Valdez felt that he

was called to disperse the darkness in the midst of which Giulia was

struggling, and the conversation lasted till evening. The Duchess of

Trajetto desired to have nothing more to do with the world, but as yet

she had not tasted the peace of God. ‘Ah!’ she exclaimed to Valdez,

‘there is a combat within me. The monk’s words fill me with fear of

hell, but I fear evil tongues also. Occhino inspires me with love for

paradise, but I feel at the same time a love for the world and its

glory. How can I escape from the contest under which I am sinking? Is it

by harmonizing these two tendencies, or by rejecting one of them? Pray

show me the way; I promise to follow it.’ Valdez replied that the

agitation she felt was occasioned by the renewing of the image of God in

her. ‘The law has wounded you,’ he said, ‘the Gospel will heal you; for

if the Law gives death, the Gospel gives life.[914] What I fear,’ he

continued, ‘is lest you should attempt to regulate your Christian life

in such a manner that those about you should not remark any change in

you.’ The duchess confessing that such was her secret wish, Valdez told

her to choose between God and the world, adding: ‘I will show you the

path of perfection: Love God above everything, and your neighbor as

yourself.’—‘Your words surprise me,’ she said; ‘I have heard all my life

that monastic vows alone lead to perfection.’—‘Let them say on,’ replied

Valdez firmly; ‘the monks have no Christian perfection except so far as

they possess the love of God, and not an atom more.’ Valdez then tried

to make her understand the only means by which that charity, which is

perfection, is produced in the heart. ‘Our works are good,’ he said,

‘only when they are done by a justified person. Fire is needed to give

warmth; a living faith to produce charity. Faith is the tree, charity

the fruit. But when I speak of faith, Madam, I mean that which lives in

the soul, that which proceeds from God’s grace, and which clings with

boundless confidence to every word of God. When Christ says: _He that

believes shall be saved_, the disciple who believes must not have the

slightest doubt of his salvation.’[915]—‘Ah!’ exclaimed the duchess, ‘I

will yield to no one in faith.’—‘Take care,’ rejoined Valdez; ‘if you

were asked whether you believed in the articles of the faith, you would

reply, Yes! but if you were asked whether you believed God had pardoned

all your sins, you would say that you think so ... that you are not

quite sure, however.... Ah! Madam, if you accept with full faith the

words of Christ, then, even while suffering under the pain caused by

your sins, you would not hesitate to say with perfect assurance: _Yes,

God himself has pardoned all my sins_.’[916]

Such evangelical sentiments, uttered by a Spaniard in a palace at

Naples, and received with humility by a Gonzaga, are a feature of the

Reformation. We must humble ourselves before we can be exalted.

Conscience spoke in Giulia. We have here a woman whose family had given

many sovereigns to Italy and princesses to royal houses, the widow of a

Colonna, the chief of the most ancient family in the peninsula, which

has counted among its members cardinals, illustrious generals, and the

celebrated Pope Martin V.; and this Gonzaga, touched by grace, lent an

ear to the truth with more humility than her own servants: she had

become a little child. If the Acts of the Apostles remark more than once

that among the persons converted to Christ in Asia and in Greece, where

St. Paul preached, were women of distinction, history will also remark

that at the epoch of the Reformation of the sixteenth century the wave

mounted from the lowest levels of the shore to the highest peaks. Or

rather, _the hills did bow_ before it. Valdez having spoken of a

‘_path_,’ the duchess manifested a desire to know it. ‘There are three

paths,’ he answered, ‘which lead to the knowledge of God: the natural

light which teaches us the omnipotence of God; the Old Testament, which

shows us the Creator as hating iniquity; and lastly, Christ, the sure,

clear, and royal way. Christ is love; and accordingly, when we know God

through him, we know him as a God of love. Christ has made satisfaction

for sin. An infinite God alone could pay an infinite debt. But it is not

sufficient to believe it, we must experience it also.’[917]

[Sidenote: Meditation And Preaching.]

‘Devote some time every day,’ continued Valdez, ‘to meditation on the

world, on yourself, on God, and on Jesus Christ, without binding

yourself to it in a superstitious manner; do it in liberty of spirit,

selecting any of your rooms that may seem most convenient, perhaps even

as you lie awake in bed. Two images should be continually before your

eyes: that of Christian perfection and that of your own imperfection.

These books will cause you to make greater progress in a day than any

others would in ten years. Even the Holy Scriptures, if you do not read

them with that humility which I point out to you, might become poison to

your soul.’[918]

‘Listen to preaching with a humble mind,’ continued Valdez.—‘But,’ said

Giulia, ‘if the preacher is one of those who, instead of preaching

Christ, give utterance to vain and foolish things, drawn from philosophy

or some empty theology—one of those who tell us dreams and fables—would

you have me follow him?’—‘In that case, do what seems best. The worst

moments of all the year are to me those which I waste in listening to

preachers such as you have described; and hence it rarely happens to

me.’[919]

The day was coming to an end when Valdez rose: the duchess was like a

person who has discovered the road to happiness, and fears to go astray

in the new path. Valdez desired to leave, but she detained him: ‘Only

two words more before you go,’ she said; ‘what use must I make of

Christian liberty?’—‘The true Christian,’ replied the Spanish gentleman,

‘is free from the tyranny of sin and death; he is the absolute master of

his affections; but at the same time he is the servant of all....

Farewell, madam, from this very moment pray follow my advice, and

to-morrow I will ask how you have found yourself after it.’ He

withdrew.[920]

It was during these solemn hours, when Valdez traced out for her the

order of salvation, that the daughter of the Gonzagas sat in spirit at

her Saviour’s feet, and gave herself to him with all her soul. It is

possible that in the instructions given by this pious layman we may here

and there discover some slight shades not strictly evangelical, tinged

either with a mystic or a Roman color; and possibly the Holy Scriptures

do not occupy a place sufficiently prominent; yet the two great

Christian facts—the work of Christ on the cross, and that which He

accomplishes in the heart—were clearly laid down by the Spanish

gentleman, and that was the essential thing.

The religious awakening then going on in the Duchess of Trajetto and in

many others at Naples, happened at a difficult moment. Some days before,

Charles V., excited by the priests who were growing alarmed at a

movement which they could not understand, had published an edict

forbidding all intercourse with those infected with or only suspected of

Lutheranism. When the emperor left Naples shortly after (22 March,

1536), the viceroy, driven onwards by the same influence, and ascribing

to Occhino’s eloquence a religious agitation which was so novel in the

Parthenopean city, interdicted the preaching of that great orator; but

his eloquence and energy, backed by his numerous friends and the

protests of those who so liked to hear him, prevailed. He was able to

continue the course of his sermons, and did not end them until Easter

(April 16). The Duchess of Trajetto, without leaving the church,

endeavored more and more to walk in that new path which Valdez had shown

her; the latter zealously directed her, and not long after dedicated to

her a translation of the Psalms from the Hebrew, with a practical

explanation. Somewhat later he published _Commentaries_ on the Epistles

of Paul to the Romans and to the Corinthians.[921]

[Sidenote: Pietro Carnesecchi.]

In this charming circle at Chiaja, and among the habitual guests of

Valdez, Vittoria Colonna, and Giulia Gonzaga, was a patrician of

Florence, as distinguished by his person as by the important offices he

had filled: he was Pietro Carnesecchi.[922] Although for a long time

placed as near as possible to the pontifical throne, he found a strange

and indefinable charm in the conversations of Valdez, attended with

pleasure the sermons of Occhino, drew light from the lamp of Peter

Martyr, formed a close friendship with Galeazzo Caraccioli, and was

touched by that mixture of grace, intelligence, humility, faith, and

good works then to be found in some of the most distinguished women of

Italy. As soon as Charles V. arrived at Naples, he desired Carnesecchi

to come and see him. The noble Florentine was surprised at the order,

but the emperor’s motive was this. Carnesecchi, a native of the city of

the Medicis,[923] was early distinguished by his knowledge of polite

literature, by his talent in the art of writing, and particularly by

that penetrating mind which can discern the secret springs of events and

see clear in the obscurest matters. From his early youth he had felt a

desire for great things,[924] and had placed himself in connection with

the most eminent men, with the view of running a more useful career. His

fine countenance struck observers all the more because with nobility of

features he combined modesty, purity, sobriety, and admirable mildness

tempered by imposing gravity. By these qualities he gained the favor of

the Medicis, and when Julius became pope, under the name of Clement

VII., Carnesecchi received a message appointing him secretary to the new

pontiff. Having at that time no evangelical convictions, he thought that

the invitation would open a noble career before him; he therefore

accepted it, and soon found himself in possession of great influence.

Clement, who had so much to do with politics, with Charles V., Francis

I., and Henry VIII., committed the direction of the Church to

Carnesecchi, and it was generally said that ‘the pontificate was at that

time filled by Pietro Carnesecchi rather than by Clement.’[925] The pope

several times offered him a cardinal’s hat, which he always refused.

This is surprising, for he was naturally ambitious; but after he had

seen the papacy closely, he probably feared to ally himself too

intimately with it; possibly, also, the first beams of evangelical light

were dawning upon his soul.

[Sidenote: Carnesecchi And Charles V.]

The death of Clement VII. broke the golden chains which were beginning

to oppress Carnesecchi. He quitted Rome, and, attracted by the mild

light which was shining over the hills of Chiaja, he went to Naples with

the desire of remaining for a time in the society of those men of God

who were so much talked about in Italy.[926] The treasures of truth and

life which he found there surpassed his expectations. But suddenly the

command of Charles V. disturbed him in the midst of the Christian joy by

which his soul was filled. What did the puissant emperor want with him?

Did he design to open once more that career of politics and glory which

he, Carnesecchi, had renounced forever? Was there some political scheme

brewing, or did Charles V. desire to become a disciple of the Gospel?

Carnesecchi could not make it out, but he went to the palace all the

same. The emperor had a very different object: knowing full well that

the Florentine had been initiated into all the thoughts of Clement VII.,

he desired to learn what schemes that pope had formed with Francis I. at

Marseilles.[927] In that interview Carnesecchi did not forfeit the

confidence which Clement had reposed in him; he did not violate the

fidelity he had sworn,[928] but answered the emperor with a nobleness

and respect which quite won the esteem of that prince. Francis I.,

however, when he heard of this conference at Naples, was exasperated; it

seemed to him that the kindness he had shown Carnesecchi during the

famous interview at Marseilles should have led him to refuse his rival’s

invitation, and he confiscated the revenues of an abbey which

Carnesecchi possessed in France. The Medicis, however, and even

Catherine, having known this excellent man well, never withdrew their

esteem from him, although he was everywhere decried as a heretic.

However great was the honor of a conference with Charles V., Carnesecchi

much preferred those he had with Valdez, Peter Martyr, and Occhino.

These pious men were not content with _vain babbling_: they read the

Holy Scriptures together, enlightened each other on their meaning, and

carefully compared one passage with another.[929] Carnesecchi had that

love of truth and that boldness of thought which make rapid progress in

the knowledge of Christ. A gleam of light shone into his heart. He did

not oscillate for years in doubt between light and darkness; he was one

of those noble spirits who attain their end at a bound. Ere long, the

influential secretary of Clement VII., by turns the object of the

attentions of the two greatest monarchs in Europe, sat humbly at the

foot of the cross. He believed in those truths which he afterwards

confessed before the college of cardinals, and on account of which he

was put to death by the pope. Looking unto Christ, he could say:

‘Certainly justification proceeds from faith alone in the work and love

of a crucified Saviour. We can have the assurance of salvation, because

it was purchased for us by the Son of God at so great a price. We must

submit to no authority except the Word of God, which has been handed

down to us in Holy Scripture.’[930] These doctrines formed from that

hour the happiness of his eminent spirit, and filled with sweetness the

intercourse he enjoyed at Naples with Valdez and Peter Martyr.

[Sidenote: Marco Antonio Flaminio.]

Two groups of pious men took part at this time in the revival of Italy:

the independent Christians, all of whom ended their lives in exile or at

the stake; and men of a hierarchical tendency, who, though religious,

still remained in Romanism, some of them even rising to the highest

posts in the Church. Carnesecchi and Paleario belonged to the first

group, and no doubt Valdez also; and if his life had been much

prolonged, it is probable that he also would have come to a tragic end.

As for the second group, it included many of those who had belonged to

the oratory of _Divine Love_, the most distinguished of whom (Contarini)

we shall mention presently. One of them, Caraffa, who became pope under

the name of Paul IV., fell lower than all the others, and became a

persecutor. These two groups, however, did not include all the Italians

who were touched by the Reformation. Between them were many truly

Christian people, who, as regards faith, were with the evangelicals, but

as regards the Church, clung to Rome through dread of falling into what

they called schism. Of this number was Flaminio, one of Valdez’ best

friends. He was born between Ferrara and Florence, but we meet with him

in the south. Political disturbances having broken out at Imola in the

early part of the sixteenth century, one of the burgesses of that city,

named Flaminio, who had acquired a reputation in literature, fled

hastily, carrying with him a very young child, and took refuge in a

castle in the Venetian territory.[931] That child was Marco Antonio

Flaminio, and his flight was almost a type of what his whole life would

be—one of anguish, and often of pressing want. When he grew older, he

went to study at Padua, where he displayed very remarkable poetic

talents. ‘His poems,’ it was afterwards said, ‘possess all the

simplicity and grace of Catullus, but untainted with his license. They

penetrate into the soul with their wonderful sweetness.’ With the gifts,

Flaminio also shared the adversities of the poet. He was often greatly

straitened during his studentship, and his university friends had to

subscribe to supply him with clothes.[932] Whatever were the hardships

of his position and the weakness of his health, he worked assiduously

and made great progress in philosophy and the study of languages, and

attained a thorough knowledge of the poets and orators. At the same

time, trial was telling upon his soul: his literary and philosophical

studies could not satisfy him. Shut up in his little room, he said to

himself ‘that there was a science higher than that of Cicero and Plato,

the science of the sacred writings, the knowledge of divine things

handed down to us by the everlasting Word.’[933] Such was the only

treasure he longed for in the midst of his poverty. ‘The study of

heavenly truth is the goal I set before me,’ he said. ‘I desire to adore

the eternal God with fervor, and devote my life to the salvation of

souls.’[934] He might have received considerable sums for his writings;

but he could not bear the idea of making a trade of his books, as if

they were merchandise. He might, as he grew older, have attained high

ecclesiastical dignity and earthly distinction; but he loved the

spiritual heights of faith more than the elevations of the world, and,

disdaining empty decorations, preferred a life hidden with Christ in

God. He visited in succession Rome, Venice, and Verona, and was received

in the last city by the Bishop Giovanni Matteo Giberto, who esteemed

learning, had published the _Homilies of Chrysostom on St. Paul_, and

‘thus revived the doctrine of the Greek fathers in Europe.’ This

prelate, perhaps from devotion, but perhaps also because he wished to be

made a cardinal, had adopted an exceedingly austere life; Flaminio, who

cared nothing for the hat with its red cords, followed, however, the

rough paths by which Giberto hoped to attain his end. The bishop,

combining labor with ascetic practices, desired his guest to make a

translation and commentary of the Psalms. The latter applied zealously

to his work, and endeavored to make the labor attractive;[935] but his

constitution being too weak to bear up against the severities of the

ascetic prelate, he fell ill and nearly died.[936]

[Sidenote: The Way Of Peace.]

Flaminio went into the Venetian campagna to recover his strength, and

entered, as soon as he was well, the household of another future

cardinal, Giovanni Pietro Caraffa, Bishop of Chieti. Caraffa, a violent

and impetuous man, and afterwards, when pope, under the name of Paul

IV., the restorer of the inquisition and of the strictest

Roman-catholicism, had had his seasons of struggle and even of faith in

the truth. Oppressed by the agitation caused within him by his ardent

and fanatical nature, he often felt that he would never find peace

except by sacrificing his will to that of God; and this it was that

bound him to Flaminio. Unhappily, his evil nature afterwards prevailed.

Caraffa being made cardinal, went to Rome, and Flaminio to Naples, at

the time when Valdez, Peter Martyr, Carnesecchi, and their friends were

there.

Association with these pious men was of great use to Flaminio: he had

been prepared to seek God by adversity, by sickness, and by the approach

of death; in his intercourse with the Christians of Pausilippo he learnt

the way of peace. ‘God,’ he said, ‘does not call those happy who are

clear from every stain; alas! there is not one! but those whom his mercy

pardons, because they believe with all their heart that the blood of our

Lord Jesus Christ is the atonement for all sin. If our conscience

accuses us before the tribunal of God, if death is imminent, let us

still be full of hope, for the mercy of the Supreme Ruler infinitely

exceeds the wickedness of the whole human race.’ Flaminio having

dedicated his book on the _Psalms_ to the famous cardinal Farnese, he

boldly confessed his faith before that grandson of Paul III. ‘Herein

will be found,’ he said, ‘many things about Christ, our Lord and our

God; his bitter death and his everlasting kingship;—his death, by which,

sacrificing himself on the cross and blotting out all our sins by his

most precious blood, he has reconciled us with God—his kingship, by

which He defends us against the eternal enemy of the human race, and,

governing us by his Spirit, leads us to a blessed and immortal

life.’[937]

Valdez, charmed by the simplicity of Flaminio’s character, the beauty of

his genius, and the liveliness of his faith, was accustomed to say: ‘Of

all men, Flaminio is the one for whom I feel the greatest love and

admiration.’[938] Carnesecchi also appreciated Flaminio, but without

being so enthusiastic in his affection as Valdez. He had a less glowing

imagination than the poet of Imola, and perhaps his feelings were less

quick, but his understanding was clearer, more logical, and more

practical. While Flaminio desired to remain in the Roman Church,

Carnesecchi was still more resolved to walk in the paths of the Gospel.

These two eminent men had serious discussions about universal consent

(_catholicus consensus_) and the sacrifice of the mass, which Flaminio

defended, but to which Carnesecchi opposed the sacrifice offered once

for all at Golgotha, as the only real one. Still, it was not until later

that these two Christians entered into a correspondence on the subject

which shows us the diversity of their faith.[939] Notwithstanding their

differences, they remained united in close affection; and when they were

forced to separate, Flaminio addressed his friend in a graceful little

poem, the very first lines of which indicate the charms of the sweet and

serious conversations of the Chiaja.[940] ‘Although I must now depart

far from thee, O dear Carnesecchi,’ he said in conclusion, ‘neither

time, nor distance, nor death itself, shall deprive me of the sweetness

of thy friendship. I shall remain with thee; I shall be ever with thee;

I shall leave thee always the greater half of my soul.’

Flaminio returned to Rome, and Reginald Pole, cousin to Henry VIII., who

was then in the city, endeavored to gain for the papacy a man whose

value he appreciated. The intercourse of Flaminio with Caraffa and Pole

had an unfortunate influence upon him. Somewhat later he said to

Carnesecchi: ‘O my friend, if we do not wish to be wrecked in the midst

of the dangerous breakers that surround us, let us bend humbly before

God, and permit no motive, however lawful it may appear, to separate us

from the catholic Church.’[941] Since that time, Romish and evangelical

writers have continually disputed possession of him, each affirming that

he belonged to them: he belonged entirely to neither. He was able to

keep himself evenly balanced between the two powers that then disputed

the sovereignty of Christendom, and did not fall into the abyss. But,

whatever men may say, if the reformers had desired to follow that middle

path which pleases certain minds, it would assuredly have been fatal to

truth and liberty. Christendom would have fallen back into the servility

of the middle ages; and if the yoke had appeared too heavy, it would

have plunged into the license of incredulity. The narrow path of

evangelical truth runs between these two gulfs: it is a refuge to those

whom they threaten to swallow up.

[Sidenote: Oratory Of Divine Love.]

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.