REST AND PEACE.
When the structure is built, the scaffolding is removed: when we are
raised up to Christ, our earthly props are often knocked away.
Ochino was soon to leave Naples--Valdés was soon to leave this earthly
world. For a little while the Church had rest: and then burst out a
furious, fiery persecution. Its burning annals have no place in my
story; but I will annex a chapter about it as an Appendix, for those who
will not or cannot refer to the original sources.
An advance had taken place in Ochino's opinions, which, for a time, was
felt rather than understood by his hearers. He appealed directly to the
Scriptures in support of his doctrine, and bade them search for
themselves. In spite of his boldness, he not only was allowed to
continue to preach in the Cathedral, but, in a chapter held at Naples in
1541, was re-elected General of the Capuchins.
His departure from the Church of Rome was detected, however, by the
jealous eye of Cardinal Pole, who wrote to Vittoria Colonna, urging her
to beware of his influence, and even exacting from her a promise, which
no woman of independent spirit would have given, that she would not read
any letter addressed to her by Ochino, without consulting him or
Cardinal Cervini. Vittoria gave this promise, and afterwards redeemed it
by transmitting to Cardinal Cervini, not one letter, but a packet of
letters written to her by Ochino; observing on them, in an accompanying
note, "I am grieved to see that the more he attempts to excuse himself,
he condemns himself the more; and the more he believes he shall save
others from shipwreck, the more he exposes himself to the deluge; being
out of the ark which alone can save."
Vittoria was at Rome, the head-quarters of intolerance, attending Fra
Ambrogio's lectures in the church of San Silvestro, and sending her
servant, after the sermon, to Michael Angelo, saying, "Tell him that I
and Messer Lattanzio are here in this cool chapel, that the church is
shut and very pleasant, and ask him if he will come and spend the
morning with us." And when he came, their talk was not of polemics, but
of painting, and of her building a convent on the slope of Monte
Cavallo.
Vittoria, having put her hand to the plough, had drawn back; but Giulia
had chosen the better part, and has attained the honour of being
stigmatised in Romish records as "suspected of heretical pravity."
Oh! how she wept when Valdés died! They were tears of sweet and pure
affection, unmixed with bitterness or gloomy foreboding, for he had
been called, at the second watch, to his rest: and she had now a good
assurance of following in the same luminous track, upheld by the same
right hand, straight up to heaven, without the intervention of a fearful
purgatory.
He was called away in the strength of his manhood, for he was little
more than forty, and his twin brother is lost sight of about the same
time. Lovely in their lives, in death they were not long divided.
Peaceful, natural decline removed them from the persecutions that
awaited their followers.
It is not hard to divine his last admonitions to Giulia. "Search the
Scriptures, for in them we know that we have eternal life. Pray, dear
Signora! pray! As our Lord prayed on the mount, the fashion of His
countenance was altered, and His raiment became white and glistening!
Doubtless, whenever _we_ pray, the expression of our countenance is
altered in the sight of God, if not of man; and our raiment, the
righteousness of Christ, becomes white and glistening. Oh, what an
incentive to prayer! St. Matthew and St. Luke, you will find, in
narrating the transfiguration, do not give us the preface--'_and as he
prayed_.' But how important an addition it is! What a blessing that
prayer drew down! It drew prophets and saints from heaven!"
"Valdés, dear friend! Would that my prayers might hereafter draw _you_
down from heaven to comfort me! Yet no; I recall the selfish wish.
Rather let me fancy you calling, 'Come up hither!'"
"Fancy our Lord so calling you, dear Signora, and it will be mere fancy
no longer. All my teaching will have been in vain, if you covet human
rather than divine sympathy and help."
"But you have been to me as a brother."
"There is a Friend that sticketh closer than a brother, Signora. Come,
give me a text, ere you leave me, to dwell upon when you are gone."
"'Ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace.'"
"God grant it! And here is one for you, whose time has not yet come to
be led forth. 'Behold! I have refined thee, but not with silver'--(not
in the same way, that is; not with mere physical heat)--'I have chosen
thee in the furnace of affliction.' See! there is something that escapes
us at first. God not only says He has tested us, but that He has
_chosen_ us. O, blessed to be the chosen of the Lord----"
"Valdés, I seek Him, but I know not that I have yet found Him----"
"Signora! 'let the heart of them rejoice that _seek_ the Lord.'"
While masses were being sung and said for the soul of Cardinal
Ippolito, the spirit of Valdés departed without a sigh. "For so He
giveth His beloved sleep." But were Giulia's affections, which had been
gradually refining, then left without a human object? No. By the will of
his paternal grandfather, her nephew, Vespasiano, the little Duke of
Sabionetta, came into her charge; and the education of the dear little
boy, now eight years old, became her care. She procured the best and
most enlightened tutors for him, in Tuscan, Latin, and Greek; and
despatched an envoy to Charles the Fifth, to secure for him the
investiture of the state of Lombardy, and to supersede its
administrators by Don Ferrante and Cardinal Ercole Gonzaga.
This young boy was trained up by her in the paths of virtue and
godliness; and lovingly did he repay her pains. He grew up a fine
character, distinguished for liberality and intelligence; and to him the
Jews owed the licence for their printing press at Sabionetta. When he
died, in 1591, the line became extinct.
Besides superintending Vespasiano's education, the Duchess devoted
herself to visiting the sick in the hospitals, and relieving the poor
with her own hands. She shunned the company of the idle and frivolous,
and cultivated the friendship of the wise and good. She lived to a ripe
old age, shining more and more unto the perfect day--a light in a dark
place, during an age of gross corruption--unsullied by the breath of
slander, and respected, in spite of her averred 'heretical pravity,' by
the Romish Church.
The faithful old maggior-domo, Perez, wrote thus to Vespasiano, on the
19th of April, 1566:
"It appears to me that I should fail in my duty, as a servant for
twenty-one years together, towards the deserving memory of the
illustrious lady, my Lady Donna Giulia di Gonzaga, your aunt, if I
did not offer to condole with your Excellency on her death."
... "Her illustrious ladyship died, as you will have heard by
letter from Magnifico Modignano, and from M. Federigo Zanichelli
to-day, between twenty-one and twenty-two o'clock. She made an end
conforming with her most holy life, continuing sensible to the
moment when her sainted spirit left the body. Her will has been
opened, and you will have learnt from the before-mentioned
Modignano and Zanichelli, that your Excellency is left absolute
heir of her property, deducting certain legacies; the will being
very different from one executed seven years ago."
To the aforesaid Perez she left an annuity of a hundred ducats: to
Caterina, her maid, two hundred ducats down, and a bed and bedding. To
Petrillo, whom she had brought up in her house, a thousand ducats; or,
in case of his death before he were of age, half that sum to his father
and mother. To Metello, her page, a hundred ducats down. To the brother
of her former maid, Caterina Rosso, and to his two children, a hundred
ducats each, in remembrance of her services. To her chaplain, twenty
ducats. To Madonna Antonia, her lady's-maid, twenty ducats and her
salary. To two little girls assisting in the kitchen, ten ducats each,
besides their wages. To all the house-servants, their expenses for a
month.
Also, remembrances to the nuns of Santa Clara, and to certain officers
of the Hospital for Incurables.
Also marriage portions to sundry young women, and legacies to her
physicians.
Also legacies to four hospitals.
This remarkable entry was made----
"I leave Cynthia, my slave, to the said Vespasiano my heir, whom
I direct to take her to his state of Lombardy; and, when he has
come to the truth of what I wished to know from her, to give her
in marriage in that province, with two hundred ducats currency
as dowry, and to make her free and set her at liberty."
And, on re-consideration, towards the close of the will,--after leaving
a legacy to her undutiful daughter-in-law, and to her sister, a nun,----
"If ever any person be found who may have given me offence in
any manner whatsoever, I freely pardon them, and beg my heir not
to bear any resentment. I also order and bind my said heir that
he use no constraint or severity towards the said Cynthia;--nor
am I careful that he should learn from her what I said before
that I wished to know; but that he shall make her free and set
her at liberty, and give her in marriage in the province of
Lombardy, as I before said."
If looks could kill, would not the stubborn, impenetrable Cynthia have
been annihilated by the glances that were given her by the rest of the
Duchess's women, when this testamentary disposition transpired? Had they
the concentrated power of burning-glasses, she would have borne them
just as stoutly. All her life she had been sinning and inly repenting;
but, to draw from her one word she did not choose to speak--no! that
they should not! _She_, an Abencerrage, to be treated like a slave? She
had no feelings in common with her captors: she hated their race, and
despised their creed. She only made an exception in favour of the
Duchess; but the Duchess did not understand her: nobody understood her.
Oh! how hackneyed a complaint it is, that we are not understood!
So, although Cynthia had shed sincere tears for her mistress, she felt a
gloomy glory, when she heard the first clause relating to herself, in
thinking that the more the young Duke insisted on her telling, the more
she would never mind. But when she found her gentle mistress had
retracted that command, and left her mentally and bodily at liberty--she
stole away to a solitary place, and there shed big tears, beating her
breast, and saying,
"O Leila, Leila! You loved me!--and indeed I loved you!"
[Illustration]
APPENDIX.
My story is ended--but, as it is based on Truth, I hope few who have
read the foregoing pages with any pleasure, will be without some
interest in the subsequent progress of the Italian Reformation.
Stifled in its infancy, it is now re-awakening into life; and though it
as yet only numbers its open converts by hundreds, yet, where the Bible
is now freely read, it cannot be but that Truth, which is great, shall
eventually prevail.
The following sketch, chiefly abridged from McCrie may be acceptable to
those who cannot refer to his History of the Reformation in Italy. I
have, however, likewise drawn from other sources.
It was in 1542 that the court of Rome first became seriously alarmed at
the progress of the new opinions in Italy. Cardinal Caraffa, who
afterwards became Pope Paul the Fourth, laid before the sacred college
the discoveries he had made of their spread in Naples and many other
parts. It was resolved to proceed against some of the leaders,
especially Ochino and Peter Martyr Vermigli. Ochino, learning that his
death was determined on at Rome, hastily fled to Ferrara, whence, being
assisted by the good Duchess Renée, he escaped the hands of the armed
men despatched to apprehend him, and reached Geneva in safety.
This flight was considered very cowardly by the resolute disciples he
had left behind; and, indeed, Ochino's story would read much better if
he had remained to share their fate, for there is a great falling off in
his subsequent history.
As for Martyr, who had parted with him at Florence, he took refuge in
Zurich, whence he wrote back to those whom he had left to weather the
storm, advising _them_ by all means to stand by the sinking ship! Seeing
the wolf coming, he and Ochino left the sheep, and fled; no wonder that
the wolf scattered the sheep.
The result was this. Many of Ochino's friends were apprehended, and some
of them driven to recant: and eighteen monks of Peter Martyr's monastery
were thrown into prison. Before the year was out, eighteen more of them
escaped to Switzerland. Yet the little church that was in Lucca kept its
lamp burning twelve more years.
Celio Curio was another leading Reformer. Receiving private information
that he had better consult his safety, he sought refuge in Lausanne. A
few months afterwards, he stole back to fetch his beloved wife and
children; but was tracked by the familiars of the Inquisition. He was
dining at an inn, when a captain of the Papal Band entered, and
commanded him to surrender. Celio rose from table, the carving-knife
still in his hand; the captain involuntarily drew back--seeing which,
Celio, still grasping the knife, and assuming a look of great
determination, walked deliberately out of the room, passed through the
armed men at the door, took his horse from the stable, and made off.
The Inquisition had been introduced into Italy at its first
establishment in the twelfth century, but was so repugnant to the free
states, that it was confined to the Order of St. Francis. Bishops might
take part with the inquisitors in the examination of heretics, but had
no power to inflict punishments. In 1543, however, Paul the Third
granted the title and rights of inquisitors to six cardinals, with full
power to apprehend and imprison suspected persons of whatever rank: and
the operations of this court gradually extended over Italy, in spite of
great resistance. This was decisive of the unfortunate issue of the
movements in favour of religious reform. Numbers of Reformers fled from
the country: others remained to abjure or die for their faith. A
formulary was drawn up, to which academicians were expected to
subscribe, and this produced a great excitement.
In 1545, proceedings were commenced against Felippo Valentino, a young
man of great promise, at Modena, suspected of heresy. Hearing that an
armed force was coming to apprehend him, he escaped by night, leaving
his books and papers behind, which, being examined by the Inquisitors,
brought many of his friends into trouble. Next day, an edict was
published, forbidding any to have heretical or suspected books, or to
dispute publicly or privately on any point of religion, under the
penalty, for the first offence, of a hundred crowns of gold, or, if
unable to pay that sum, of the strappado. For the second offence, two
thousand golden crowns, or banishment. For the third, death.
Valentino and Castelvetro were cited to appear at Rome. The popular
feeling was so strong for them, that the Duke of Modena was petitioned
to intercede with the Pope, that the trial should be suspended; which he
declined. Valentino and Castelvetro, not answering the citation, were
excommunicated. The latter escaped to Ferrara, thence to Geneva, and
finally settled at Chiavenna. What became of Valentino we are not told.
He was gifted with an extraordinary memory, and could correctly repeat a
sermon or lecture after hearing it once.
Another distinguished sufferer for the Truth was Olympia Morata, who did
not indeed seal her testimony with her blood, but who was driven from
home and country. Celio Curio had found refuge in her father's house in
Ferrara, about the time that Olympia went to reside at the Ducal Palace,
in order to inspire the little Princess Anne with emulation in her
classical studies. Here, her life was too gay and worldly to be good for
her.
"Had I remained longer at court," she afterwards wrote to Celio Curio,
"it would have been all over with me and my salvation. For never, while
I remained there, did I attain the knowledge of ought high or heavenly,
or read the Old or New Testament."
Yet she had two female friends of more than average merit--Francesca
Bucyronia and the Princess Lavinia della Rovere. Gifted and pure-minded
as they were, these interesting girls as yet only cared for the things
of this present life, and philosophy, falsely so called.
Olympia was summoned from court by the mortal illness of her beloved
father; and, in the wholesome discipline of the sick-room, received
lessons of invaluable worth. He died, reposing on her promise to supply
a parent's place, as far as possible, to her little brother and her
three young sisters, and to minister with filial devotion to her sickly
mother.
It was a great charge, but she struggled bravely with her difficulties.
The great questions at issue between the Reformers and their foes
addressed themselves, also, to her attention, more forcibly than
heretofore; connected as they were with the fate of one in whom her
friend, the Princess Lavinia, took deep interest. A young man, named
Fannio, was consigned to the dungeons of Ferrara, for adhering to the
reformed opinions. To his wife and sister, who came to see him in
prison, he said, "Let it suffice you that, for your sake, I _once_
denied my Saviour! Had I then had the knowledge which, by the grace of
God, I have acquired since my fall, I would not have yielded to your
entreaties. Go home in peace!" Weeping, they went. He lay two years in
prison, "to the furtherance of the Gospel," inasmuch as "his bonds in
Christ were manifest in all the palace." Faithful friends resorted to
him thither; among them were Lavinia and Olympia. The peril of their
visits perhaps added a little zest to the impression of his teaching. In
that gloomy cell, he and they and a little handful of the faithful,
prayed, and read the Scriptures, and broke bread, and sang hymns, just
as in the early times.
When it was found that many persons of rank, besides Lavinia, stole to
these meetings, while his fellow-prisoners were so wrought upon by his
heavenly-mindedness that they declared they had never known what true
liberty and happiness were till they found them in a prison--Fannio was
put into solitary confinement.
Though visitors were rigorously excluded, he reached them with his
letters; notwithstanding the repeated change of his gaolers. With what
intense interest must Lavinia and Olympia have pored over these letters!
In 1550, Fannio was brought to the stake, and, being first strangled,
was committed to the flames. He was the first of the Reformers who laid
down his life for his faith.
Olympia, meanwhile, bereft of court favour, led a troubled and painful
life. She wrote to Celio Curio--"After my father's death, I remained
alone; abandoned by those who ought to have supported me. My sisters
were involved in my misfortune, and only reaped ingratitude for the
devotion and services of years. How deeply I felt it, you may readily
conceive. Not one of those who had been our friends in former times had
now the courage to show the least interest in us." She knew and he knew,
indeed, that the Princess Lavinia was a noteworthy exception.
This cheerless loneliness was broken by the constancy of a young
Bavarian student of medicine, named Grünthler, who had already offered
his hand to her and been refused. He now renewed his addresses: his
devotedness touched her heart, and she accepted him. They were married
very quietly in 1550. "Neither the resentment of the Duke," she wrote to
Curio, "nor all the miserable circumstances which surrounded me, could
induce him to abandon his desire to make me his wife. So great and true
a love has never been surpassed."
Leaving her under the protection of Lavinia, Grünthler repaired to
Germany to find a home for her, where they might at least enjoy freedom
of conscience.
"Your departure," Olympia wrote to him, "was a great grief to me, and
your long absence is the greatest misfortune that could befall me. I am
always fancying you have had a fall, have broken your limbs, or been
frozen by the extreme cold. You know what the poet says--
"Res est soliciti plena timoris amor."
"If you would alleviate this tormenting anxiety, let me know what you
are about; for my whole heart is yours, as you know full well."
Grünthler was so long finding what he wanted, that his good friend,
George Hermann, advised him to fetch his wife and live with him at
Augsberg, till something should turn up--which he did. Olympia's grief
was great at parting with her mother and sisters, whom she had little
hope of ever seeing again: her brother Emilio, eight years of age, she
took with her. Thus Italy lost one of its most distinguished women.
Once settled in Germany, she was very happy. "We are still," she wrote,
"with our excellent friend, and I am delighted with my home here. I pass
my entire day in literary pursuits--_me cum Musis delecto_--and have no
cares to draw me away from them. I also apply myself to the study of
Holy Writ, which is so productive of peace and contentment."
The occupation she chiefly found for her pen was translating the Psalms
of David into Greek verse. These her husband used to set to music, and
the singing of them formed the evening amusement of their little circle.
After residing some months with George Hermann, they removed to another
friend, John Sinapi, a good physician who had married Olympia's early
companion, Francesca Bucyronia. At length they obtained a humble home of
their own at Schweinfurth on the Maine. And here they dwelt usefully and
happily till war and pestilence raged around them. Schweinfurth was
sacked: Olympia fled from it barefoot, in worse plight than Giulia
Gonzaga, for she had no horse to carry her to the nearest refuge, ten
miles off. "I might have been taken," she said, "for the queen of the
beggars."
At length they reached Erbach, where the good Countess received her like
a mother, and nursed her through her sickness. But Olympia never
recovered from the effects of that fearful flight; and an early death
crowned her beautiful and exemplary life.
The persecution which raged against the humbler confessors in Ferrara,
failed not to attack the Duchess herself, though the daughter of a King
of France. It was not till she had endured a short imprisonment that she
was intimidated into concealing her convictions. On the death of the
Duke, she returned to France, where she made open profession of the
reformed faith, and afforded shelter to its confessors.
In the Venetian states, the persecution raged with great violence.
Francesco Spira, a lawyer of Padua, died in such agonies of mind at
having been induced, by the terrors of the Inquisition, to recant, that
Vergerio, the converted bishop of Capo d' Istria, who was present at his
death, was greatly affected by it. "To tell the truth," says he, "I felt
such a flame in my breast, that I could hardly help going to the legate
at Venice, and crying out, "Here I am! where are your prisons and your
fires?" Instead of this, he sought refuge among the Grisons."
The way of putting the Venetian martyrs to death was not by fire but by
water. At dead of night, the prisoner was taken from his cell, and put
into a gondola, attended by a priest. He was rowed out to sea, beyond
"The two Castles," where another boat was waiting. A plank was then laid
across the two gondolas, upon which the prisoner, heavily chained to a
stone, was placed. On a given signal, the two boats paddled different
ways.
The first martyr who thus suffered was Giulio Giurlanda. When set on the
plank, he calmly bade the gondoliers farewell, and, calling on the Lord,
sank into the deep.
Antonio Bicetto, of Vicenza, followed his example, though urged to
recant by the most tempting bribes. Space would fail if I undertook to
recount all who in their turn were faithful unto death. Others escaped;
and there was not a city of note in Italy that did not swell the list of
fugitives. This shows how widely the reformed opinions must have
spread.
Nowhere was greater cruelty shown than to the Milanese. Galeazzo Trezio,
a man of noble birth, was sentenced to be burnt alive, which he bore
with the utmost fortitude. A young priest, after being half-strangled,
was literally roasted alive, and then thrown to the dogs.
At Naples, so great was the rigour of the Inquisition as seriously to
affect trade. Whole streets were deserted by their inhabitants.
Terrified by the severities exercised upon their brethren, a
considerable body of Neapolitans agreed to quit Italy together. But,
when they reached the Alps, and stopped to take a last view of their
beloved country, they burst into tears and resolved to return home. They
no sooner reached it than they were cast into prison.
But, of all the barbarities of which Rome was guilty at this time, none
were more horrible than those which were inflicted on the Waldenses who
had settled in Calabria. I have already related how these peaceable
people had founded a little colony, and, by their exemplary lives, had
won the good opinion of even the priests. They now amounted to about
four thousand persons, and they possessed several towns in the
neighbourhood of Coscenza, two of which were Santo Xisto and La Guardia.
Cut off from all intercourse with their Waldensian brethren, these
colonists had habituated themselves to attend mass, without which they
found it difficult to maintain friendly relations with their neighbours.
Hearing of the spread of the reformed opinions in Italy, similar to
those for which their ancestors had bled, these Waldenses became
convinced they had sinned in conforming to Popish observances, and they
applied to their friends and ministers at Pragela and Geneva, for
teachers who should reform and restore their discipline.
No sooner was this known at Rome, than two monks were sent to reduce
these Waldenses to obedience to the holy see. They began very gently
with the inhabitants of Santo Xisto, saying they had only come to
prevent them from lapsing into error; and they appointed a time for the
celebration of mass, which they enjoined every person to attend.
Instead of this, the Waldenses, in a body, retreated into the woods,
only leaving behind them a few old people and children. The monks,
concealing their chagrin, repaired to La Guardia, and, having caused the
gates to be shut, assembled the inhabitants and told them their brethren
of Santo Xisto had renounced their errors, and they had better follow
their good example.
The poor simple people were talked over, and complied; but great was
their indignation when they found the deceit that had been practised on
them. They were eager immediately to join their brethren in the woods,
but were dissuaded by their feudal lord.
Meanwhile, the monks directed two companies of foot-soldiers to beat the
woods, and hunt down the fugitives in them like wild beasts, which they
did, with cries of "Ammazzi! ammazzi!" "Slay them! slay them!"
Some of the Waldenses, securing themselves among the rocks, demanded a
parley with the captain of their assailants. They pleaded for their
wives and children, said they were willing peaceably to leave the
country, and implored him to withdraw his men. Instead of this, the
captain commanded an instant attack, most of the parleyers were cut
down, and the rest took to flight. San Xisto was given up to fire and
sword; and the fugitives still lurking in the woods, either were put to
death or perished with hunger.
The people of La Guardia were then given up to the tender mercies of the
Inquisition. My pen refuses to copy the account of the horrible
cruelties to which they were subjected. Sixty women were tortured, most
of whom died in prison, in consequence of their wounds remaining
undressed. Yet this was nothing to what afterwards ensued. One of the
Catholic historians says, "Some had their throats cut, others were sawn
asunder, others thrown from a high cliff: all were cruelly, but
deservedly put to death. It was strange to hear of their obstinacy; for
while the father saw his son put to death, and the son his father, they
not only exhibited no symptoms of grief, but said joyfully that they
should be angels of God! So much had the devil, to whom they had given
themselves up as prey, deceived them!"[16]
[16] Tommaso Costa.
Martyrs of whom the world was not worthy! It is less sad, after all, to
read of the martyrdoms of Carnesecchi, and Di Monti, and Paleario, and
many others, than to find heresies and schisms creeping into the little
flock itself, and drawing many of them away from the purity of that
faith for which others died.
Unitarianism was the canker that ate into the bud of the Italian
Reformation. The opinions of Servetus and Socinus, and various
modifications of them, insinuated themselves into the minds of the
hapless exiles, who were scattered as sheep having no shepherd. Camillo
Renato was one of the leading schismatics; and though he did not avow
his own disbelief in the Trinity, his followers made no scruple of doing
so. Many were tossed in a wild sea of doubt; others were swayed to and
fro by every wind of doctrine; but we must not forget that a great many
were consistent and faithful to the end of their course. Even Ochino's
orthodoxy was suspected; though Calvin saw no reason to doubt it. There
was a cloud, however, over his latter days.
Pius the Fourth was of a mild disposition, but he was not powerful
enough to overrule the inquisitors. A house beyond the Tiber was
appropriated to them, to which cells were added for criminals, or those
who were accounted such. This was called "the Lutheran prison," and it
was said to be built on the site of the ancient Circus of Nero, in which
so many Christians were delivered to the wild beasts.
The persecution raged with redoubled fury under Pius the Fifth:
especially at Bologna, where "persons of all ranks were indiscriminately
subjected to the same imprisonment, tortures, and death. In Rome, some
were every day burnt, hanged, or beheaded; all the prisons were filled,
and they were obliged to seek new ones." Think of the constancy of these
confessors! Rome had no need to go to Japan for martyrs. If she should
hereafter have a Protestant martyrology, many of her own sons and
daughters may be enrolled in it. "We know not what becomes of people
here," wrote Muretus to De Thou; "I am terrified every morning when I
rise, lest I should be told that such and such a one is no more: and if
it should be so, we should not dare to say a word."
And thus the Italian Reformation was crushed out! But its motto is
"Resurgam!"
II.
"The 'Alfabeto Christiano' is a book unknown even to bibliographers for
the last three centuries. It had its origin in an actual conversation
between Juan de Valdés, twin brother to the Latin secretary of the
Emperor Charles the Fifth, and Giulia Gonzaga, Duchess of Trajetto and
Countess of Fondi, at Naples, about the close of 1535, or the beginning
of the following year. At her request it was immediately afterwards
written down by him in Spanish, to promote her instruction and refresh
her memory. It now essentially conveys to us the spirit and substance of
the conversation in the precise form and manner in which it took place
between them."--_Introduction by Benjamin B. Wiffen, Esq., to his
translation of the "Alfabeto Christiano."_
"It was printed at a time when for a few years the press of Venice was
comparatively free; and when, taking advantage of this liberty, then
existing nowhere else in Italy, it multiplied the tracts of the
Reformation by thousands. When the friends of Valdés were afterwards
persecuted at Naples, and his name condemned by the authority of Rome,
implicating by connection with him, one of the most distinguished
members of the noble family of the Gonzagas,--all parties, friends
equally with opponents, would of course be concerned to observe silence
on the subject; while all the friends of the family would be urged alike
by religious sentiment and by family considerations to destroy silently
and irrecoverably every copy of a book that appeared to cast, by its
association with her name, the shadow of its principles upon those who
were allied to her."--_Ibid._
The passage describing the manner in which a stray copy fell into his
hands, and the circumstances under which he perused it, is one of the
pleasantest in Mr. Wiffen's Introduction. McCrie quotes a passage from
Fontaine, who tells us that "on taking down an old house at Urbino, in
1728, the workmen disinterred a copy of Bruccioli's 'Paraphrase of St.
Paul's Epistles,' with some books of Ochino, Valdés, and others of the
same kind, which had remained in concealment for more than a century and
a half."
III.
"Carnesecchi was secretary to Clement the Seventh, and afterwards
prothonotary to the Apostolic See. One of his preferments was an abbey
at Naples.... After the death of Clement, he retired from the Roman
court to Naples, where he became intimate with Juan de Valdés. He was in
that city in December, 1540, when Valdés died; and if he did not himself
receive his last confession, which is very probable, he at least knew
what it was, for his commendation of it formed part of the accusation
against him on his trial in 1567, before the Inquisition at Rome; and
after the death of Valdés he succeeded to the confidence of Giulia
Gonzaga. This correspondence brought her also under the suspicion of the
Inquisition on two occasions; once in 1545, and again, a short time
before her death, in 1566."--_Wiffen's Introd., &c._
IV.
"Few were the years of the life of Valdés after the conversation of the
'Alfabeto Christiano,' yet during four, or at the most, five of them, he
presented to Giulia his translation from the Greek of the Gospel
according to Matthew, of the Psalms translated from the Hebrew, of the
Epistle to the Romans, from the Greek, with a commentary; nor could she
be unacquainted with his 'Considerations' and other writings, while they
were yet in manuscript."--_Ibid._
V.
"Ippolito's translation of the second book of the Æneid was published at
Rome, in 1538, 4to., and in Venice, 1540. The latter is entitled, 'I sei
primi libri del Eneide de Vergilio, &c. Il secondo di Vergilio de
Hipolito de Medici Cardinale, a la Signora Giulia Gonzaga, MDXXXX.' It
contains twenty-three leaves."--_Ibid._
The lengthy title of Ireneo Affo's work, which a friend transcribed for
me at the British Museum, is:--"Memorie di tre Principesse della
famiglia Gonzaga; offerte a sua ecc: il Signor Conte Stefano Sanvitale
Parmigiano, gentiluomo di camera con esercito ed essente delle reali
guardie del corpo di S. A. R., in occasione delle sue felicissime nozze
con sua eccel: la Signora Principessa Donna Luigia Gonzaga Mantovana.
Parma, 1787. 4to."
The title is not more wordy than the memoir itself, though a short one.
THE END.
BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.
* * * * *
This day is Published, in fep. 8vo., neatly bound,
THE NEST HUNTERS;
OR, ADVENTURES IN THE INDIAN ARCHIPELAGO.
By WILLIAM DALTON, Esq.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS.
CONTENTS OF CHAPTERS.
CHAPTER
I. An Important Letter.
II. A Great Calamity.
III. Our Uncle's Last Will and Testament.
IV. The Robbery and Abduction of Marie.
V. We Run Away and take Service with Nest Hunters.
VI. We set out on our Voyage.
VII. The Old Chief. The "Strong One," the "Weak One," the "Handsome
One."
VIII. We descend into the Nest Caves.
IX. My Adventures in the Nest Caves.
X. I recognise the Nest Robbers.
XI. A Search for a Mare's Nest
XII. We "Bite the Biters," but are Overhauled by a Dutch Cruiser.
XIII. We Sell our Nests, are taken Prisoners, but capture our Captors.
XIV. History of our Captain: his Hatred of the Dutch.
XV. Adventures with a Big Snake and a Man-eater.
XVI. We pick up a Chinese Story-Teller, who sends us to Sleep.
XVII. We are Hoodwinked by the Chinese, who Robs us of our All.
XVIII. Wherein a Chief proves his Invulnerability by killing Himself.
XIX. We visit the Capital of Blilling and witness Widow-Burning.
XX. We return to the Coast and hear of an Old Enemy.
XXI. The Wen-necked Hunchback and his Revelation to Prabu.
XXII. We join a Tiger Hunt, but narrowly escape being Poisoned by a
Chief.
XXIII. A Fight, a Great Peril, and a Timely Rescue.
XXIV. We land at Mojopahit and are imprisoned as Rebels.
XXV. Through Woods and Wilds.
XXVI. We hunt Tigers and discover some Old Acquaintances.
XXVII. And Last, containing a Tolerably Happy Ending.
* * * * *
Shortly,
ARTHUR MERTON.
A STORY FOR THE YOUNG.
By Mrs. J. B. WEBB,
AUTHOR OF "NAOMI; OR, THE LAST DAYS OF JERUSALEM."
In 16mo. With Frontispiece.
ARTHUR HALL & CO., 26, PATERNOSTER ROW.
* * * * *
In Preparation.
THINGS HARD TO BE UNDERSTOOD;
OR, ILLUSTRATIONS OF DIFFICULT DOCTRINES
AND MISINTERPRETED TEXTS.
By the Rev. JOHN CUMMING, D.D., F.R.S.E.
A NEW AND CHEAPER EDITION.
* * * * *
Price 2s. 6d. Cloth, 3s. Gilt.
SUNDAY THOUGHTS;
OR, GREAT TRUTHS IN PLAIN WORDS.
By MRS. T. GELDART.
SECOND EDITION.
* * * * *
Price 5s. Cloth.
THOUGHTS AND SKETCHES IN VERSE.
By CAROLINE DENT.
* * * * *
Price 3s. Cloth, 5s. Gilt.
POEMS.
By the late MARIE J. E. FOTHERBY.
EDITED BY HER HUSBAND.
* * * * *
12mo., Cloth, 2s.
BELLENGER'S FRENCH FABLES.
ONE HUNDRED CHOICE FABLES, IMITATED FROM LA FONTAINE.
For the use of Children, and all Persons beginning to Learn the
French Language; with a Dictionary of the Words and Idiomatic
Phrases, Gramatically Explained.
NEW EDITION, Revised and Corrected by C. J. DELILLE, Professor at
Christ's Hospital, &c.
* * * * *
ARTHUR HALL & CO., 26, PATERNOSTER ROW.
Transcriber's Note: Although most printer's errors have been
retained, some have been silently corrected. Some spelling and
punctuation, capitalization, accents and formatting markup have been
normalized and include the following:
Page 180 convice is now convince.
The oe ligature has been expanded.
Quotation marks have been inserted in rows 138, 224, 2068, 2344,
2762, 4714, 4972 and 5016.