Savonarola ilS, LlF E M ES Digitized by the Internet Arcliive in 2015 https://arcliive.org/details/savonarolahislifOOclar_0 THE HOME LIBRARY. SAVONAROLA: HIS LIFE AXD TIMES. BT / WILLIAM e/cLAEK, M.A., PREBEXDAKT OF WK.I.LS AM) VICAR OF TAUNTOX. PUBLISHED UXDEB THE DIRECTION OF THE TRACT COMMITTEE. LOXDOX: SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE ^ SOLD AT THE DEPOSITORIES: 77, GREAT QUEEN STREET, LIXCOLS'S IXX FrELDS ; 4, ROYAL exchange; 43, PICCADaLT ; AND BY ALL BOOKSELLERS. NEW YORK : POTT, Y'OUNG AND CO. 1878. LONDON : PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAKFORD STREET AND CHAEIKG CROSS. PEEFACE. The life and character of Savonarola have been supposed to present no ordinary difficulties to the historian. From the day of his death, nay, more, from the day of his power in Florence up to our own times, opinions the most diverse have been enter- tained respecting his character, his motives, his conduct. While his enemies have denounced him as a rebel against the Sovereign Pontiff — in later times they have hardly dared to call him a heretic — and as a disturber of the Commonwealth, his followers and admirers have regarded him as a saint and a hero, and have venerated his memory as thafc of a martyr. The supporters of despotism, ecclesiasticai and civil, have cherished a feeling of bitter enmity h iv PREFACE. against the man wlio Lad such an ardent love of liberty ; and they have been joined by the prophets of scepticism, who have had nothing but contempt and hatred for one who was so powerful a witness for religion and for God. According to the sceptic Bayle, he was a ridiculous and base impostor, who richly deserved the fate that befell him. According to Koscoe, who found it diffi- cult to believe anything good of one who was so consistent and steadfast an opponent of his idolized Medici, he was an arrogant and ambitious priest, half impostor, and half fanatic. The errors of Koscoe .were partly traditional, partly depended upon his defective point of view, and partly arose from his being unacquainted with many of the original docu- ments which throw light upon the age of which he wrote. It was only quite lately that an attempt was made to rewrite the history of Savonarola and his times on the basis of contemporary documents, and the testimony of contemporary writers. Eudelbach was the first who seriously undertook this work, and he accomplished his task with German industry and laboriousness. Although he has considerably de- PREFACE. V tracted from the value of his book by his persistent attempt to prove that Savonarola was a Protestant, all subsequent "writers are greatly indebted to his researches. Kudelbach's work was published in 1835, and was succeeded in 1836 by that of his countryman Meier, who also brought to light documents and facts which had been previously unknown. This writer also marred his work by endeavouring to prove that Savonarola held the doctrines of Luthei^ In spite of this, I have been greatly indebted to him and his predecessor. The next important life of Savonarola was written ^ by Perrens, a Frenchman, and published in 1853. This writer had the advantage of using the materials collected by the Padre Marchese, who had taken a deep interest in the life of Savonarola, and belonged to his own order.* It cannot be denied that Perrens made diligent use of these materials and of other documents which he found at Florence. He made himself thoroughly acquainted with his subject, and * He edited some of the unpublished letters of Savonarola ; and published a history of the Convent of S. Mark's, and other works bearing on the same subject. vi PREFACE. lie produced a well-written and readable book ; still, there is a want of consistency in his views of Savona- rola's character and history which renders his work in many respects unsatisfactory. This life of Perrens was, however, the best that had been written until Signer Villari published his History of Girolamo Savonarola and Ms Times Whether we consider the fulness of his researches, or the true historical spirit in which Yillari composed his bookj^it must be allowed that he has done the work almost as well as it can be done.) As a book for Italians and for those w^ho take an interest in the pliilosophical doctrines of Savonarola, it can hardly ever be excelled, and can never be entirely set aside. To Villari I owe much more than to any other writer, and I have hardly ever ventured to differ from him without much consideration. It will be evident, however, to careful readers, that I have followed him in no servile spirit. I. can honestly say that I have done my best to understand the history and character of the man whom I have * La Storia di Girolamo Savonarola e de* suoi tempi, narrata (la Pasquale Villari, con Vaiuto di nuovi documenti. Firenze, Le Monnier, vol. i. 1859 ; vol. ii. ISGl. PREFACE. vii undertaken to describe, and that I have endeavoured to tell the story simply and plainly to ordinary English readers, as I myself was able to under- stand it. The works of Savonarola are scarce and costly, and I have been able to procure only a few of them ; but I have read with care the original works of Burlamacchi, and Giovan Francesco Pico della Mirandola,* as well as the work of Barsanti, and the Cedrus Lihana of Fra Benedetto, published in the splendid Arcliivio Storico which I found in the British Museum. I have also consulted the various works of Padre Marchese, published in the same collection. I agree with this writer j that " there has seldom been a history more fruitful of griefs and hopes ; " but I also think with him that Savona- rola was "|the greatest man of his age and of many other ages.") If this little book shall produce the same conviction in the minds of others ; if it shall lead any to a more thorough and enthusiastic study of the wonderful era to which Savonarola belonged, it * He was the nephew of the better-known Giovanni Pico della 3Iiraudola. t Sunto Storico del Convento di S. Marco, lib. ii. Vlll PREFACE. will not have been wholly useless, even if it should speedily be forgotten. It will be inferred, from what I have said, that I have had to quote many of the Sermons of Savonarola at second hand. This I regret, but it was unavoid- able, and I have done my best to secure accuracy by comparing the quotations which I have taken from one author with those of another. The works of Machiavelli, Guicciardini, and Sismondi, I have myself consulted with care ; and more recently I have had the advantage of reading two works of great value and interest lately published — Capponi's Storia della RepulMica di Firenze, and Von Keumont's Lorenzo de^ Medici the Magnificent CONTENTS I. Italy in the Fifteenth Century 1 II. Birth and Early Years 24 III. Monastic Life at Bologna 44 IV. The Brother of S. Mark's GO V. Florence and the Medici . . . SI VI. The Prior of S. Mark's, and Lorenzo the Mag- nificent ...... 105 VII. The Preacher and Piero de' Medici . 124 VIII. Monastic Keform ..... 139 IX. The French in Italy .... 157 X. Revolution ...... 18G XI. Reformation op Manners •208 XII. Divisions ...... 227 XIII. The Departure of the French 239 XIV. Pope Alexander VI. and Savonarola . 252 XV. The Burning of the "Vanities" 285 XVI. Treason . * . 301 XVII. Renewed Conflict with Rome 328 XVIII. The Orde.\l by Fire .... 341 XIX. MaRTYRD03I ..... 355 SAVONAEOL A CHAPTER I. ITALY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. In order to understand the character and work of a man who belonged so entirely to his own age as Savonarola, it will be necessary to attempt some estimate, however slight and imperfect, of the times in which he lived. We must try to understand something of the state of the Roman Empire, of which Italy was, in theory at least, the centre ; of the condition of the Papacy, the great fountain of authority in the Western Church; of the re- ligious orders ; of the intellectual and moral con- dition of the people at large. Although it would be quite impossible to under- stand the course of Florentine history, with its fierce struggles between Guelfs and Ghibellines, apart from the history of the Empire, these struggles had long ceased before the age of Savonarola. They had indeed left behind them political I. B 2 SAVONAROLA. parties which had sprung out of them, and party- feelings whose roots were buried deep in those an- cient animosities ; but, as a practical question, the state of the Empire hardly concerns the student of Italian ecclesiastical history in the fifteenth cen- tury. The Empire was at its lowest point and the Papacy at its highest. Frederick III. was Emperor and Xicholas Y. was Pope when Savonarola was born. *''In Frederick the Third's reign," says Dr. Bryce,* '''the Empire sank to its lowest point. It had shot forth a fitful gleam under Sigismund, who, in convoking and presiding over the Council of Constance, had revived one of the highest functions of his predecessors. . . . Never afterwards was he [the Emperor], in the eyes of Europe, anything more than a German monarch." It was just the reverse with the Papacy. "The Pontificate of Nicholas V.," says Dean Milman,t "is the culmi- nating point of Latin Christianity." Slowly, gradually, surely the change had taken place. The time had long gone by when men had dreamt of a state of things in which the world should be governed by two masters acting in harmony, the Emperor and the Pope. The theory of Dante, born a Guelf, but forced by the violence of the papal party into the Ghibelline ranks, was * The Holy Boman Empire, ch. svii. This ■work can hardly be too Mghly recommended to the student of mediaeval history. A knowledge of its subject is of the greatest necessity for such ; and it is difficult to mention a ^^^ork from which it could more easily and effectually be obtained. I Latin C?irigtianity, bk. xiii. ch. xvii. ITALY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 3 a beautiful one ; but it could not be worked. Even when the faith of the Church was the religion of the Empire, it became a hopeless task to reconcile the claims of the master of the world with those lof the Vicar of Christ. That the Pope should hold his secular possessions of the Emperor as his suze- rain : that the Emperor should receive his authority from the Head of the Church, through His Vicar, by whom he was anointed and crowned — all this might seem reasonable, natural, simple in theory : but innumerable complications arose in working it out. The difficulty of serving two masters continu- ally presented itself ; and men drifted into the party of the Guelfs or into that of the Ghibellines, not only from the intelligible reason that they sided with the papal party on the one hand, or with the Imperialists on the other, but from multitudes of other reasons, arising out of local position and family or national history. To us, for instance, it seems strange to find the most strenuous supporters of the Papacy among the strongest Kepublicans; but our surprise vanishes when we remember that the aristocratic party was headed by those great nobles who derived their chief authority from the Emperor, and were devoted to the support of his claims. It would be out of place to sketch here, even in barest outline, the rise of the papal power, and therefore we must be contented merely to indicate those points which will render our narrative in- telligible. The power of the Roman Bishop had grown up by slow degrees, and had derived its 4 SAVONAROLA. strength from a variety of elements. It would be a mistake to fasten upon any one cause as sufficient to account for the almost absolute dominion which the Bishop of Kome came to exercise over the Western Church. It was not only his position in the metropolis of the world-empire, although this went for much ; it was not simply the early fable that the Pope was the successor of S. Peter, that gave him his authority. This was an effect quite as much as a cause of his predominance. The New Testament knows nothing of S. Peter as the founder of the Church of Kome. When he is mentioned in this connection by Irenaeus, it is only as associated, apparently on equal terms, with S. Paul. But there were other causes at work. The piety, orthodoxy, learning, and ability of a series of Pontiffs who adorned that chair in the earliest days, con- tributed to strengthen the influence and confirm the power which seemed naturally to belong to the Bishop of the Mother City, and to engender the idea that this was the Mother Church.* Perhaps it * Dr. Freeman remarks : " From the time of Constantine onwards, the divisions of the Empire and the constant absence of the Emperors from Rome had greatly increased the power of the Popes. They had not, like the Patriarchs of Constantinople, a superior always at hand. Charles the Great had fully asserted the imperial power over the Church, but, after his Empire broke up, the power of the Popes grew again. It was checked only by their own wickedness and their divisions among themselves, which kings like Otto the Great and Henry the Third had to step in and put an end to." — General Sketch of European History, ix. 2. ITALY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 5 must be added that a strong central ecclesiastical power was almost a necessity in the ages through which the Church had to pass from Constantine to Charles the Great, and from his days to those of another Charles, who witnessed the beginning of the great and wide-spread revolt against the papal power. We have said nothing of the false decretals. Although they did undoubtedly lend support to the papal theory in its days of advance and develop- ment, it must yet be confessed that the main points of that theory were set forth and conceded before those famous documents were promulgated.* Whether a sagacious anticipation of the dangers inherent in the secular character which began to be associated with the spiritual power of the Papacy would have led to their being averted, we cannot tell. Humanly speaking, it is difficult to imagine, as we trace the course of history, that the Popedom could have been very different from what it was. Be this as it may, it seems inevitable that it should have become a secular power, and equally so that its spiritual character, the world being what it is, should have suffered from the connection. The deterioration is, in fact, undeniable. As we follow the solemn and impressive history from Pontiff to Pontiff, from age to age, we become aware that the voice of the Vicar of Christ no longer * The first steps in the progress of papal power are strikingly illustrated in Dr. Lightfoot's appendix to his edition of S. Clement's Epistles, pp. 252 ff. On the general subject, cf. Hussey or Eobert- son, on the rise of tbe papal power. 6 SAVONAROLA. speaks in the pure tones of a Leo or a Gregory ; the world also has its prophet on the throne of Peter, and the spirit of the world is blended, in a com- bination sometimes blasphemous, sometimes touch- ing upon the ludicrous, with the higher spirit of the kingdom. The first Bishop of Christendom is serving two masters. The moral deterioration of the Koman see is a simple fact of history. It was not rapid, and 'there were breaks and suspensions and recoils in its course ; but it was, on the whole, gradual and certain. We mark it, perhaps, most in the period which elapsed between the beginning of the fourteenth century and the era of the Eeformation. The evil, how- ever, was at work long before this time. In the struggles between the great Popes, like Gregory VII. (Hildebrand), and the great Emperors, like Henry IV., there was of necessity a secularizing of the spirit of the ecclesiastical power, far more than a spiritualizing of the secular; and the Popes were quite as much the victims as they were the causes of the circumstances in which they found themselves. John of Salisbury, almost exactly a century later than Gregory VII. — he died in 1180, — tells us that, when asked by his friend Hadrian IV. what people said of him and of the Roman Church, he replied : " ^lany people say that the Roman Church, which is the mother of all other Churches, shows herself to other Churches not as a mother, but as a step- mother. * Scribes and Pharisees sit upon her seat ITALY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 7 who bind heavy burdens, and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men's shoulders ; but they them- selves will not move them with one of their fingers.' They lord it over God's heritage, and do not walk in the way of life, as ensamples to the flock. They heap up precious things and load their tables with gold and silver. . . . With them godliness is prac- tised for the sake of gain, not for the dissemination of the truth. ... To many even the Koman Bishop has become unbearable ; and people complain that, while the churches which were built by the devotion of our fathers are falling to ruin, and while the altars are deserted, he is going about in purple and gold. The palaces of the priests are resplendent, while the Church of Christ is left polluted and uncared for. ... In my judgement," he added, " so long as they go this way, the scourge of the Lord will never depart from them." This was towards the end of the twelfth century ; but about a century later began a period which tended still further to destroy the better features of the papal power. This was the famous Baby- lonish Captivity — the residence of the Popes for a period of seventy years (1305 — 1376) at Avignon in France. One of its evil results was seen in the schism which immediately followed, and lasted for about half the time of the Captivity, imtil the Council of Constance, when Martin Y. was raised to the papal throne in 1417, and was finally ac- cepted by the whole Western Church. When Milman speaks of the Pontificate of 8 SAVONAROLA. .Nicholas V. as "the culminating point of Latin Christianity," he does not ignore the facts and circumstances which had long been at work to undermine the monarchy of Hildebrand. " The papal power," he says, " had long reached its zenith. From Innocent III. (1198—1216) to Boniface VIII. (1294—1303) it had begun its decline." That is to say, from near the time of John of Salisbury to the beginning of the period of the papal residence at Avignon, the power of the Pope relatively to that of the secular rulers began to decline; and the Captivity and the schism almost annihilated any real authority that still remained in his hands. But the Pope as the representative of the Church ; perhaps, rather, the Church presided over by the Pope, was supreme in the middle of the fifteenth century. It had burned Huss, and Jerome of Prague, and it seemed at peace and irresistible. This was the appearance of things as it would strike the eye of a statesman. But there were unseen forces at w^ork which we, at least, cannot overlook. An age which endured a Papacy in virtual subjection to the French crown for the best part of a century, another which could tolerate the worse scandal of rival Popes for more than a whole generation, must have fallen from the faith, as well as the order, of earlier times. " The transfer of the papal throne from Kome to Avignon, for a space of seventy years, during the early part of the fourteenth century, entailed enor- mous evils on Europe, and on the estates of the ITALY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 9 Church in particular. It was a deliberate renun- ciation by the Popes of their most sacred duties as Bishops of Kome and as temporal sovereigns. While they passed their days in epicurean ease and luxury on the banks of the Rhone, the patrimony of the Church was trodden down by lawless barons and con- tending factions, and, as was natural in such a state of things, the people, both clerical and lay, equally despised the laws of God and of man. Yenality, impurity, and licentiousness pervaded the papal court, and had reached such a pitch at the time that Petrarch was a resident at or near Avignon, that he points to the Eomish court there, in his epistles sine titulo, and in three of his sonnets, as the Western Babylon, a sink of iniquity, a very hell upon earth." * It would be absurd to charge the Popes with the whole guilt of the corruption of the fifteenth century. If they were in part the causes, they were also, in part, only the indications of a state of things against which some of them struggled hard, but which, for the most part, they were powerless to amend. It is by no means true that the Popes of this time were all bad men ; but unfortunately some of the best seemed the least fitted for the evil times on which they had fallen. Nicholas Y.,t one of the * Harford's Life of Michael Angelo, vol. i. ch. viii. pt. i. ; where the references will be found. t "In Nicholas V., in three short years, the Pope had become again a great Italian potentate. . . . Nicholas V. laid the founda- tion of his power, not so much in the strength of the Fioman see as a temporal sovereignty, as in the admiration and gratitude of 10 SAVONAROLA. best of Popes, liad liis soul saddened, his heart almost broken, by rebellion breaking out among his imgrateful Koman subjects. To him succeeded Pius II. (1458—1464), the famous ^neas Sylvius, who, although he was not a man of the same depth and spirituality as his pre- decessor, would yet, by the elevation of his mind, the purity of his character, and the splendour of his- abilities, have shed lustre upon any throne. If it was the age of silver succeeding the age of gold, it was succeeded by one far baser than itself. Paul II, (1464 — 1471), the successor of Pius, was the sister's son of Eugenius IV., who reigned during the sixteen troubled years which intervened between Martin V. and Nicholas Y. If his character as Pope had resembled that of his earlier years, he might have left behind him the reputation of his uncle ; but the arrogance of his pretensions, his love of display, his unscrupulousness in accumulating money, and his disregard for his word, or even his oath, have deeply stained his name. " You venture to appeal to judges," he cried, with a glare* at Platina. "As if you did not know that all laws are lodged in our Italy, which was rapidly reported over the whole of Christendom. . . . The famous architect Leo Alberti describes the unexampled prosperity under Nicholas, for which the conspirators would have made that cruel return. ' The whole of Latium was at peace. . . . The domain of the Church was in a high state of cultivation ; the city had become a city of gold through the jubilee ; the dignity of the citizens was respected ; all reasonable petitions were granted at once by the Pontiff.'" — Milman, Latin Christianity (2nd ed.)^ vol. vi. p. 169. * Torvis Ociilis. Cf. Bower, Popes, a.d. 1465. ITALY IX THE FIFTEENTH CEXTURY. 11 breast ? The sentence is given. I am Pope, and I liave power to rescind or to approve, at my pleasure, the acts of all other men." It has been truly said that, at this time, every other precious thing was as cheap at Eome as the Pope's oath. But the course was still downwards : Paul II. was succeeded by Sixtus lY. (1471—1484). In his reign simony was open and undisguised ; no benefice was given away without being paid for. The unscrupulousness of his conduct towards his (opponents we shall have to notice when we come to speak of his quarrel with the ^Medici. Murder he held in certain cases to be justifiable ; and his general character may be judged from the generally believed report that his death was brought on by ^ chagrin at a peace being concluded, without his sanction, between the Venetians and certain allied powers who were at war with them. Of darker charges against him, made and believed, we say nothing. The chief excuse alleged for his crimes consists in the plea that they all proceeded from an immoderate affection for his relations, and his desire to promote and enrich them. Innocent YIII. (1484—1493), if not as bad a man, was possibly a worse Pope than Sixtus had been. When the latter died, a contemporary wrote : "On this most happy day God Almighty showed His power upon earth, and delivered His people out of the hand of this most impious and iniquitous sovereign, in whom dwelt no fear of God, no love for the flock of Christ, but shameful lust, avarice. 12 SAVONAROLA. and vain glory." But it was worse in the days of his successor. Murders were frequent, and were seldom punished, when their authors were protected by the princes of the Church. A man who had murdered his own two daughters was set at liberty on the morning of the day appointed for his execu- tion, because he had paid 800 ducats. And the papal Vice-Chamberlain, when asked why such criminals escaped, gave with bitter irony the reply : God willeth not the death of a sinner, but that he shall pay and live ; and so we think in Bologna," * One incident of this Pope's reign may suffice to show its character. We suppress the most offensive portion of the Pope's words in reference to it. The Pope's vicar for the city of Kome on one occasion issued an edict forbidding concubinage, and threatening the laity who w^ere guilty of it with excommunication, and the clergy with suspension and loss of their benefices. Innocent had the vicar summoned before him, and gave orders that the edict should be withdrawn, as concubinage, or some- thing worse, was universal. It should be added, however, that he did, although apparently with reluctance, consent to the renewal of a constitution of Pius IL, forbidding priests to keep taverns, play- houses, and houses of ill-fame, or to act as the secret agents of prostitutes. This Pope, let it be remem- bered, was the friend of Lorenzo de' Medici ; and one of his natural sons married Lorenzo's daughter Mad- * No mere story. Steph. Infessura declares that he was pre- sent when it was said. (Diar. p. 1988 in Rudelbach.) ITALY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 13 dalena. It was he who, on account of this family- connection, conferred the cardinal's hat on Giovanni, the brother of Maddalena, afterwards Leo X., when he was only thirteen years of age. This brings us to the reign of Alexander VI. (1493 — 1503). It was under this Pope, one of the worst, perhaps the very worst, that ever brought dishonour upon the loftiest seat in Christendom, Savonarola was put to death. The hasty sketch which has been given of the occupants of the Eoman see during these years — nearly half a century — will prepare our readers to understand something of the times to which our narrative belongs. We turn from the Popes to the monks — in other words, to the special representatives of the inward and religious life of the Church. There was a time when, however it might be in the world, there was purity and devotion in the cloister. Without arguing the question, whether those who fled from the world to the convent did not carry the world with them into their retreat, — or the other question, whether the monastic life was more a means of deepening or of narrowing the spiritual life of men, — there can be no question that we are indebted to the religious orders for splendid examples of learning, of piety, of intellectual power and influence. But it is equally undeniable that, like other human institutions, these were liable to corruption and decay. We see recurring evidences of their degeneracy in the rise of reformed communities — 14 SAVONAROLA. like that of Clairvaux breaking off from Clugny, for example. The most remarkable attempt to deliver monasticism from its tendency to luxury and self- indulgence, from its forgetfulness of the vow of poverty, was the almost contemporaneous rise of th<' two great mendicant orders of the Dominicans or Preaching Brothers, and the Franciscans or Lesser Brothers. Of the vast achievements of these two great orders there could be no question, even if we had only the name of Aquinas as a son of the former, and that of Bonaventura as belonging to the latter. Yet these also fell into such decay that their refor- mation seemed almost hopeless; as we shall have occasion to remark in the course of this history. On this subject one witness may be adduced, and one shall suffice, Nicolas de Clemangis.* He was born in the latter half of the fourteenth century, and survived the period of the Council of Basel, dying about 1434. He was rector of the University of France, and, together with his master Pierre D'Ailly and Gerson, formed the triumvirate of Catholic re- formers who were the glory of France at the begin- ning of the fifteenth century. The sad condition of the Church was the subject of various appeals which he addressed to the King of France, Charles VII., and to the Antipope, Clement VII. ; but his principal work was his treatise on the corrupt condition or ruin of the Church.f In this treatise he has the following remarks : — * Cf. Wetzer and Welte, Kirchenlexicon, s. v., and Eudelbach. t De Corrtipto Ecclesix, Stato, s. cle Euina Ecclesix. ITALY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 15 " As for the monks, what can we say in commen- dation of those who, according to their vows, ought to be the most perfect of all the sons of the Church, since they are removed from anxiety about the things of the world, and are thus able to devote themselves to the contemplation of heavenly things, but who are plainly the reverse of all this? For they are, in fact, the most covetous and avaricious of all, and are mere slaves of the world, instead of fleeing from it. Nothing is so hateful to them as their cell and their convent, reading and praying, their rule and religion. Monks they are externally in their dress, but in their life and works they are as far as possible removed from perfection. And this is the righteous punishment which they suffer, that they do not find what they seek; for the revenues of the convents dwindle away more and more from their insatiable pursuit of earthly goods ; so that where formerly a hundred could live con- veniently, now hardly ten can exist with the greatest care, and they are scarce able to keep their build- ings in a habitable condition. " And what shall I say of the mendicant friars, who by their vow are devoted to the most absolute poverty, and glory in being the true disciples and followers of Christ, and boast that they alone can give to the people the true food of the soul, and show them the way of eternal life ; that they alone fulfil the obligations of the true servants of God, and by their zeal make amends for the neglect, ignorance, and omissions of others who are luke- 16 SAVONAROLA. warm and asleep ? In truth, if they had attained to such a degree of perfection, they certainly would not thus exalt themselves, and despise all others in comparison with themselves. For it is the true perfection of the righteous, that they never regard themselves as perfect, but ever increase in humility as they grow in grace. By the contrary course the good which they really have is corrupted and destroyed. Just as the synagogue had its Pharisees, against whom Christ spoke most strongly in the Gospel, so are these new apostles to be regarded as the Pharisees of the Church, to whom is applicable all that Christ said of the Pharisees, or even much worse. For they are like ravening wolves in sheep's clothing, who have the outward appearance of holiness, but inwardly are defiled with all lusts; who, like the priests of Bel, consume that which is offered to God in their secret chambers, revelling with their wives and children ; preaching, indeed, what people ought to do, but not doing it them- selves, and thus through their own preaching be- coming reprobate ; clothing themselves like an angel of light, and in that garb serving not Satan indeed, and yet not Christ either, but their own bellies; alluring the hearts of the innocent by their seduc- tive words. " And what shall we say of the nuns, if we would avoid the appearance of describing not virgins consecrated to God, but brothels and deeds of shame ? In truth, the nuns' convents are in these days nothing- else than public houses of unchastity, places for ITALY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTUHY. 17 receiving immoral and licentious young men, so that to let a maiden enter a convent is very much the same as offering her for open prostitution." There is no reason for doubting the general truth of this testimony, and the condition of the Papacy at the time sufficiently prepares us to believe it. But if these were the shepherds, what must have been the character of the flock ? Doubtless . God had, then as always, many secret ones who served Him faithfully and devoutly, and of these it was the delight of Savonarola to speak ; but, as regards the Church at large, the times were evil, and nothing but revolution or root-and-branch reformation could save the Christian communion from dissolution. The moral tone of Christendom, at least, had never been lower. The most brutal selfishness stalked shamelessly abroad. Despotism, oppression, cruelty were practised all but universally by the rulers of the people. Murder had become a trade, and poison- ing an art ; and both became part of the policy of princes. " In Italy," said Pontanus, " there is nothing cheaper than human life." The Church was worst of all. "Through the example of the papal court," said Machiavelli, "Italy has lost all piety and religion. We have to thank the Church and the priests for our abandoned wickedness." * In considering the work of Savonarola, and the various reforming tendencies which were in operation in his times, there is another class of influences which -must not be overlooked. Leaving out of consider- I. * Viscorsi, i. 12. C 18 SAVONAEOLA. ation, for the moment, the spirit of mysticism, which had awakened in Germany, and was extending itself widely, and fostering a more inward and spiritual life, there was the spread of learning through the imiversities, the invention of printing, and that great classical movement which is known as the Renaissance. The organization of the higher instruction of the nations in universities was preparing also for the great revival of learning, which was to work a revolution not only in the opinions of men, but in their very modes of thought, of reasoning, and of investigation. Paris and Oxford arose in the thirteenth century, Koln and Prague in the four- teenth; and these not only produced controversialists who called in question the absolute authority claimed for himself by the Eoman Bishop, but earnest reformers who had no thought of creating a schism in the Church, but earnestly demanded her purifica- tion. If Paris had the great names which have just been mentioned, we in England are not likely to forget that Oxford had her Wickliffe, or even that Prague had her Huss. With respect to the great literary movement known as the Renaissance, so full of light and of darkness, of liberty and of bondage, the subject is not merely of great extent, but involves so many points of controversy that we must keep simply on its outskirts ; yet certain facts may be noted with regard to which there is at least a substantial agree- ment. ITALY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 19 The Renaissance, so often connected with the cap- ture of Constantinople by the Turks in 1453, was not simply the result of an event which led to the emigration of a large number of Greeks to Italy. No doubt it received its most powerful and most visible impulse from this occurrence ; but it was in full progress before. The literary movement in (question " is anterior by more than a century to the great event which is assigned as its date. It is impossible to deny that there was a strong taste for antiquity during the period of the sojourn of the Popes at Avignon. Cola di Kienzi was a distin- guished humanist before becoming a celebrated revolutionary." * It would be easy to add other names in whom the same tendency is conspicuous. In regard to the inward character of the move- ment, it was essentially humanistic or naturalistic, and in so far it was a revolt not only against Catholicism, but against Christianity. It was virtu- ally a return to Greek Paganism. It knew nothing of grace : it was the mere worship of nature. A Pro- testant, looking back upon those days from his own present point of view, is apt to imagine that it was essentially a protest against the corruptions and tyranny of the times, especially as that tyranny was embodied in the Roman see. No doubt it was, in a measure, such a protest ; but for the most part accidentally. We may even say that it was become a necessity for the age in which it arose, and at least a means in the hand of Divine Providence for * Christophe, La Popaute pendant le 15™^- Siecle, i. 431. 20 SAVONAROLA. bringing about certain sorely needed changes in the Church and the world. All this may fairly be allowed. To attribute such high principles and purposes to the movement itself, however, would be palpably absurd. It had no genuine sympathy — to take one example — with rational liberty as being the right of all men, and a benefit to humanity at large. No doubt, it despised monkery, asceticism, and re- strictions of all kinds. But the liberty which it preached was the liberty of education, philosophy, refinement, culture. No Horace could have more hated and despised the profane mob. The Benais- sance would never have emancipated the serf, or struck the fetters from the hands and feet of the slave. In short, it was heathen and not Christian, and so it had no conception of the lofty charity of the Gospel, even as it was destitute of its spiritual power. This judgement is not a mere theoretical opinion deduced from the nature of the case : it is amply confirmed by the facts of history. The Renaissance had no more sympathy with the self-denial of Christ than it had with the absurdities of mediaeval self- torture. It had no more sympathy with down- trodden humanity than it had with ecclesiastical despotism. To a certain extent, it was a power working in favour of reform. Perhaps its best fruits may be seen in men like Erasmus. But it had no real depth of earnestness. AVhen the necessity for sacrifice ITALY IN THE FIFTEEXTH CENTUEY. 21 arose, then came the evidence that it was not of Christ. It could criticize, gibe, sneer, even denounce ; but it could not suifer. At bottom, it was much more in sympathy with a cultivated tyrant than with his uncultured victims. " That spirit," says Dr. Bryce, * " whether we call it analytical, or sceptical, or earthly, or simply secular, for it is more or less all of these — the spirit which was the exact antithesis of medigeval mysticism, had swept in and carried men away, with all the force of a pent-up torrent. People were content to gratify their tastes and their senses, caring little for worship and still less for doctrine: their hopes and ideas were no longer such as had made their forefathers crusaders or ascetics : their ima- gination was possessed by associations far different from those which had inspired Dante : they did not revolt against the Church, but they had no enthu- siasm for her, and they had enthusiasm for whatever was fresh and graceful and intelligible." It might seem strange, but to a deeper view of human nature it will seem not unreasonable, that, along with the sceptical indifference to Divine revelation and Christian truth begotten by this movement, there came a growing belief in astrology and cognate superstitions. Popes who did not believe in God believed in the influences of the stars and in the power of magic ; just as unbelievers in our own day have attained to a faith in table- turning and "spiritualism." Even at the univer- * Holy Roman Empire, ch. xvii. 22 SAVONAROLA. sities they taught astrology as a science. Paul II. declared that the astrologers had predicted that he should become first cardinal and then Pope ; and the same destiny was assigned to Giovanni de' Medici, afterwards Leo X., by Marsilio Ficino, who cast his horoscope at his birth. Later on, it is asserted, Paul III. never held a consistory without first ascertaining from the astrologers what hour would be favourable for the purpose. Apart from the interest of the question in its connection with our present subject, it is still quite needful to see clearly the true nature of this move- ment. An absurd renaissance of the Renaissance seems to be having some influence in our own days. "We say it is absurd, because it is a mere sentimental fancy which may lay hold of eccentric artists and their admirers for a few days or years, but which has no roots in the real thought and conviction of the age. It is, however, necessary that the nature of the thing should be known. The characteristics of this movement, as here indicated, will receive illustration from the history of Savonarola. The Renaissance at first helped him. It was high-toned, liberal, educated ; and therefore it would give a hearing to this new prodigy. Nay, it took in hand to patronize him. Savonarola knew, by a spiritual instinct, how alien its mind was from his, and kept aloof. Some of its better representa- tives, like the elder Pico della Mirandola and Angelo Poliziano, came under his influence and died his disciples: the movement itself was apart from his ITALY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 23 work, was ultimately opposed to it, and became his persecutor.* * On the general subject of this chapter, besides Gibbon, Milman, and other standard authorities, cf. Gebhart's Essais : De Vltalie (Paris: Hachette); Eistorisches Taschenbuch for 1875. 24 SAVONAROLA. CHAPTER IL BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. GiROLAMO Savonarola was born at Ferrara on Matthew's Day, September 21, 1452. His grand- father, a native of Padua and the member of a noble family belonging to that city,* had been invited to Ferrara by JSTiccolb d'Este.f The house of Este, hardly less distinguished than that of the Medici for its patronage of literature, art, and science, gloried in attracting to the city which it ruled the most distinguished meii of the day. Michele Savonarola, equally renowned as a man of letters and a physician, removed to Ferrara in the beginning of the fifteenth century, and had two sons, Giovanni and Mccolo. * " The Porta Savonarola at Padua recalls to mind the neigh- bouring residence of that noble family; and in the Prato della Valle stands a statue of Antonio Savonarola, who manfully de- fended his native city in the middle of the thirteenth century." — Von Reumont, Jjorenzo de' Medici, bk. vi. c. 6 (Mr. Harrison's- Translation). 1 t This Este is known as Niccolo III., Marquis of Ferrara. J 7. BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 25 Of this Niccolb, his second son, . we have very little information : even his profession, if he had one, is unknown. What is certain is, that he married a daughter of the illustrious house of Buonaccorsi of Mantua, Elena by name, and that they had two daughters and five sons, of whom our Girolamo was the third.* Born, as we have said, September 21, he was baptized on October 4, the feast of S. Francis, in the church of Sta. Maria del Vaio, and received the> baptismal names of Girolamo Maria Francesco Matteo.f If we know nothing of Savonarola's father, we are told enough of his mother to prove that there was in his case no exception to the theory that great men have usually had remarkable mothers. She was a woman of a powerful understanding, and of a masculine force of character ; and we have a touch- ing proof of the affection with which her greatest son continued through life to regard her in the fact that, whilst his first letter after entering the * Burlamacchi gives us the following information respecting them. The sons were : 1. Ognibene, who became a soldier ; 2. Bartolommeo, whose profession is unknown ; 3. Girolamo ; 4. Marco, first a secular priest, afterwards a Dominican monk under his brother, taking the name of Fra Maurelio or Marco Aurelio; 5. Alberto, a skilful physician and kind to the poor, in both respects emulating the fame of his grandfather. The daughters were Beatrice, who remained unmarried, and Clara, who, losing her husband while young, lived a widow with her mother and her brother Alberto. — Burlamacchi, Vita di Savonarola, p. 3 (Lucca, 1764). t The names are given by his father in a note appended to a copy of his son's work, Sul Dispregio del Mondo ; also by Burla- macchi. 26 SAVONAROLA. Dominican order was written to his father, it was to his mother that he addressed himself in the days of sorrow and trial which were so frequent in his later life. As a child it would appear that Savonarola was distinguished by the seriousness, it might be said almost the sorrowfulness, which was his lasting characteristic, as well as the character of the higher mind of the whole age to which he belonged. In person, as we may judge from the agreement of several existing portraits, he was by no means at- tractive; and the fascination which he exercised over those who came in contact with him proceeded from tone, spirit, and character, and not from any physical endowments. Of his personal appearance we are enabled to judge not only from the portraits, but also from the careful descriptions of his three contemporary biographers.* In stature he was rather below the middle size, but erect and easy in carriage. His complexion was fair and somewhat ruddy. His forehead was massive and broadjt and deeply furrowed with wrinkles ; his eyes dark blue, bright, and penetrating, with long reddish eyelashes, and surmounted by thick eye- brows. His nose was prominent and hooked, and he had a large mouth with full under-lip, which is said * Pico della Mirandola, c. i. ; Burlamacchi ; and Fra Benedetto, Cedrus Lihani, c. 5. f Burlamacchi speaks of it as "eminente e elevata," and Pico as "sublimis;" but. judging from all the portraits, this must describe the effect produced by its massiveneas and not by its height. BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 27 to have communicated a most pleasing expression to his whole countenance. His limbs were well proportioned, inclining neither to leanness nor cor- pulency, but of a fine and delicate organization. His hands were very thin — so thin that when he was preaching they seemed transparent, and his fingers were unusually long and tapering. Naturally he was of the sanguino-bilious tempera- ment ; * but his face was wonderfully calm, and of such sweetness of expression that it seemed to have descended from heaven." In conversation and deportment he was of unequalled gentleness, ''affable, sweet, and without any asperity." Such was the man as he appeared to his most intimate friends in the maturity of his life, activity, and power. We can imagine what the boy was like in those early days at Ferrara, before that mas- sive brow was furrowed, when the sorrows of the future were only dimly foreshadowed in the calm and serious life of the brooding, meditative, retiring boy. Whether because his eldest brother Ognibene was early marked out for the army, and his second brother Bartolommeo was destined to succeed to his father's possessions, or because of his own con- spicuous native powers, he was intended by his parents, and by his illustrious grandfather, for the medical profession, the chief source of their glory as a family. It was, perhaps, for this reason that * S^ingnigno-bilioso," says Villari ; corresponding to what we should call choleric and melancholic. 28 SAVONAROLA. the aged Michele Savonarola interested himself so deeply in this grandchild, that for several years he superintended his education, and taught him with the greatest energy and patience, and with more than fatherly affection. The instructor did not want an apt and willing pupil : he found in his grandson a mind thirsting for knowledge, of more than ordinary clearness and acuteness, and en- dowed with a "marvellous love of truth," and a " judgement which seemed carried towards truth by its own nature." * When Savonarola was but ten years of age, in 1462, his grandfather died, and he was sent to one of the public schools of his native town, while his father privately instructed him in logic and philo- sophy. His progress at school was most decided. The devotion with which he addicted himself to his studies was not more remarkable than the quick- ness which he displayed; and he particularly dis- tinguished himself by the "skill and acuteness" w^hich he showed in debate, so that even in those early days his companions began to predict his future greatness. It was indeed " difficult to de- cide whether he most excelled in learning or in the gravity of his manners ; " but the gentleness of his disposition seems to have secured for him the esteem even of those whom he excelled. In those days, as in after life, he loved retirement * Sentences or phrases thus marked will be understood to be derived from one or other of the original authorities, unless when it is otherwise specified. BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 29 and shunned publicity. When playing with the other boys, he would run away and employ himself in erecting little altars ; but this kind of tendency is so common among boys in every country, that it would be unsafe to infer that he was already think- ing of devoting himself to the monastic, or even to the clerical life. There is no doubt that in later years he often spoke of the " religious life " as that which is supremely happy, and that he strove to lead men and women to enter this state ; but it was long before the thought of it was deliberately adopted by himself. When at last he took refuge in the convent, his parents were evidently unpre- pared for such a step, and in one of his sermons he tells us that he had declared a thousand times, while still living in the world, that he "would never become a monk." * The determination to enter the religious life was brought about by a variety of causes, and not by any single incident or series of events. As a child he was of a serious and devout disposition ; his studies inclined him in the same direction. A personal disappointment doubtless disposed him to take the darkest views of the evil age in which his lot was cast, and he refers to a sermon which he heard when about two and twenty as a kind of turning point in his spiritual history. At the time that Savonarola was being educated for the medical profession, the sciences were so little distinguished that the scholastic philosophy was an ♦ Frediche sopra Amos e Zacharia. Venet. 1528, fol. 251. 30 SAVONAROLA. essential part of his professional studies. In this way he became acquainted with the writings of S. Thomas Aquinas, and with the Arabian com- mentaries on Aristotle. The hold which these studies gained on his mind, and the attachment to the great schoolman which grew up within him, fostered his native tendencies, and gave that direc- tion to his intellectual and religious convictions and purposes by which he was influenced through life. Indeed, so absorbed did he become in philo- sophy and theology — spending whole days over them — that he could hardly spare any thoughts for the special department of medicine. The study of Plato belongs to a later period. It was, indeed, impossible for a thoughtful Italian to remain ignorant of the Platonic philosophy in the days of Politian and Pico della Mirandola. It was impossible for Savonarola to escape entirely the influence of the Renaissance ; and he tells us that he studied the dialogues with care, and wrote many notes on them, and that he was in some danger of being misled by their fascinations. He speaks in one of his sermons of the fashion for Platonism liaving become so strong, that one heard of nothing irom public teachers " but Plato, that divine man.'* " I was in that error myself," he says, and studied much those dialogues of Plato ; but when God gave me light, I destroyed all that I had written on that subject." There was much in the circumstances of his times to deepen the natural seriousness of Savonarola. BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 31 The state of Ferrara must have given rise to grave reflections in one who was little apt to be dazzled by the splendour of pomp and show. Few could have been more welcome in the halls of the Este than the members of the house of Savonarola ; but we are told that never but once could Girolamo be induced to appear at court. Niccolb III., who had invited Michele Savonarola to Ferrara, had died before the subject of this memoir was born, and was succeeded by his two natural sons, Lionello and Borso, whom he had caused to be legitimized in his lifetime, in conse- quence of the youth of his legitimate son Ercole. Lionello succeeded his father in 1441, and died in 1450. He ruled with such success in troubled times that his country was called the "land of peace." Borso was a man of a different stamp.* He was the " Magnificent " of Ferrara, as Lorenzo de' Medici was of Florence, and was so renowned for the splendour of his court, and for his abilities and influence, that in distant lands he was spoken of as the King of Italy. It was while Borso was Marquis of Ferrara, and in the very year of Savonarola's birth (1452), that Frederick III. passed through Ferrara, on his way to Rome, to receive the imperial crown at the hands of the reigning Pope, Nicholas V. He was received with great state by the Marquis and Court of Ferrara ; but as he had decided, on his return from Rome, to raise Borso to the ducal dignity, prepara- * Cf. Signer Villari's remarks, lib. i. cap. i. p. 7. 32 SAVONAROLA. tions were made on the most splendid scale for the celebration of the event. But these festivities were entirely thrown into the shade by the reception accorded to Pius II., in 1458, on his way to the Council of Mantua, at which he was hoping to stir up Western Christendom to under- take a crusade for the recovery of Constantinople. We need not dwell upon the hopeful beginning or the ridiculous failure of this enterprise and we have no means of knowing how the youthful mind of Savonarola was impressed either by the splendid pomps of his native city or by the hopes excited on behalf of the suffering Eastern Christians. He was only six years of age when the Pope passed through Ferrara, on his way to the council. He must have been a witness of these festivals; and he probably knew something of the miseries and the hopes of the Greeks. All that we know is, that he was not attracted to the ruling family. When Borso died, and his half-brother, the legiti- mate son of Niccolb III., came to the throne as Ercole I., in 1471, Savonarola was nineteen. The glory of the Este had not dazzled him. His true eye saw the hollowness of courtly splendour. His deep religious nature was shocked by the worldliness and worthlessness of the lives of the great. His instinctive and unquenchable love of liberty could never delight in the degradation and misery of his fellow-men which always result from even the most graceful despotism. The chains might be gilded, or even golden, but in his eyes they were BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. none the less fetters npon the bodies and souls of men. Of his early thoughts we know nothing. Of the progress of his education we have hardly any infor- mation from his biographers, only such scanty facts as we have noted, besides occasional allusions in his sermons. But we are now coming to the period in which we have his own record of the thoughts and emotions that were passing in his mind. He had been a solitary, brooding boy ; " living little in the society of his fellows, much in his own ; " caring only for learning and knowledge, and for these only as the way to truth. Much he thought and medi- tated on the life of man and the end for which he was created ; but as the light within grew brighter, he became more and more conscious of the darkness- without. Hora novissima ; Temjpora pessima : " The world is very evil ; the times are waxing late," — this was the burden of his thought. The words which the spirit of Polydorus uttered with groans in the ears of j5]neas, as he told his father after- wards, he recited many times in a day with tears : Heu! fuge crudeles terras, fuge litus avarum! "Ah! flee from this cruel land, flee from this covetous shore." * Of the letter in which he makes this declaration, we shall have to speak presently. It contains his reasons for abandoning the world. The desire arose, he says, from his beholding "the great misery of the world, the iniquities of men, the rapes, the * Ml. iii. 44. I. D 34 SAVONAROLA. adulteries, the robberies, the pride, the idolatry, the cruel blasphemy, which have come to such a height in the world that there is no longer any one found who does good. I could not bear," he goes on, " the great wickedness of the blinded peoples of Italy; and so much the more that I saw virtue everywhere disdained and vice held in honoar. This was the greatest suffering that I could have had to endure in this world; on which account I prayed every day to the Lord Jesus Christ that He would deign to raise me u-p out of this mire. And I made con- tinually short prayers to God with the most earnest devotion, saying, ' Show Thou me the way that I should walk in, for I lift up my soul unto Thee ' " * (Notam fac mihi viam in qua amhulem, quia ad te levavi animam meam). It is clear that these were not mere afterthoughts which suggested themselves as a justification of the course he had taken ; for the same feelings are ex- pressed in a poem which he composed three years before, when he was onlv twenty, in 1472, " On the Kuin of the World." t If he did not believe, he says, in the infinite pro- vidence of God, what he saw in the world would make him agree with those who deny Him or say that He sleeps ; for everywhere virtue is perished and every decent custom, and there is no true light in the world, nor even shame for vices. Eapine and murder are so common that he is happy who prac- tises such sins. *Ps. cxliii. 8. t JDe Buina Mundi; in Foesie (Firenze, 1847), pp. 3 — 6. BIETH AND EAELY YEAES. 35 At one moment in his life at Ferrara it seemed as though the world might begin to have a new interest for him ; but this new hope had scarcely- arisen upon him when it set, leaving him involyed in a thicker darkness. It is curious that his bio- graphers, with one exception, seem to have known nothing of Savonarola's disappointment in love ; and it was only quite recently that this incident in the history of his early manhood was brought to light. It is, however, recorded by his own disciple, Fra Benedetto,* and there is no reason to doubt the truth of the story. It would be inconsistent with all the testimonies respecting his early character to suppose that it was this event which gave all its sadness to his life. But it can hardly be doubted that it added greatly to his previous despondency. The incident is not only interesting in itself, but throws some light upon his natural disposition. A citizen of Florence, of the noble family of the Strozzi, banished from his native city, had come to Ferrara, bringing with him a natural daughter. Living in the house next to Savonarola's, she at- tracted the attention and gained the affections of Girolamo, who one day availed himself of the opportunity offered of speaking to her on the sub- ject of his affection. The answer which he received was haughty and insolent: "Do you imagine that the blood and the great house of the Strozzi could * Vutnera Diligentis, lib. i. c. g. It was first discovered by Meier (cf. Meier s Lehen, c. i. s. 15) 36 SAVONAROLA. form an alliance with that of Savonarola ? " It was an unfortunate reply. The girl remembered only one-half of her parentage ; and the mortified lover, provoked by her foolish pride, fiercely reminded her of the stain on her birth. We may be sure that he repented of his anger when the flushing face revealed the feelings which she could find no words to express. We may be quite sure that the bitter taunt which he had cast at her often came back with pain to the memory of the chastened Fra Girolamo in after years. The feelings of weariness and revulsion which the condition of the Church and the world had aroused within him went on deepening, until at last he resolved to leave his home and enter a monastery. By day and by night his thoughts were of God and eternity, and he was meditating continually on the possibility of living a better and a higher life. When he was twenty-two years of age, we are told, he spent a whole night in considering what course he ought to take. In order to assist his meditations he had sprinkled his body with the coldest water ; and he ended by dedicating himself entirely to the service of Jesus Christ.* It was about this time that he was deeply moved by the preaching of an Augustinian monk at Faenza, which seems finally to have decided his taking the step he had been already meditating. Long afterwards he refers to the impression then made upon him as deep and * An incident mentioned, and his age at the time, both by Pico and Burlamacchi. BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 37 powerful. " Once," he says, " while I was still in the world, I went for amusement to Faenza, and entering by chance the Church of S. Augustine, I heard a word from an Augustinian preacher, which I will not tell you now, but which to this hour I have in my heart ; and I went and became a friar before a year had passed."* Era Benedetto says that Savonarola would never repeat that word ; and that, strangely, the monk from whom he heard it was known as a man of irregular life ; from which Savonarola took occasion to observe that we might learn to do well from the divine word, whoever preached it. When he had once resolved to become a monk, he had little difficulty in deciding for the Domi- nican order, to which he was probably attracted by many considerations, but chiefly by his devotion to S. Thomas, the great glory of the order. We can imagine the emotions with which he passed through Bologna (probably the route he took), on his way back from Faenza to Ferrara, with these new resolves working in his mind. The resolution he had formed at once lifted a burden from his heart, for he felt he had now broken with the ungodly world ; but this joy was darkened by the thought of the pain he was about to inflict upon his parents, to whom he did not dare to disclose his purpose. It seemed to him that his mother was watching him with a new and painful interest, as though she were striving to read his * Vrediche sopra L'zechiel, Yen. loll, fol. 172. 88 SAVOXAROLA. very heart. For a whole year this struggle went on. In the letter to his father from which we have already quoted, he says, " If I had shown you my purpose, I believe verily my heart would have broken before I could have parted from you, and I should have abandoned the intention I had formed." It was hard to leave them in any case. The night before he set forth on his new life, he took his lute in his hand and played on it a strain so sorrowful that his mother seemed to divine what was passing in his heart, and turning to him with saddened looks exclaimed, " My son, this is a sign of parting." By a great effort he kept his eyes on the ground, and continued with a trembling hand to touch the lute, without venturing to answer. On the 24th of April, the whole city of Ferrara was celebrating the festival of S. George; and it was this day, when the thoughts of the populace and of his own family were entirely occupied with the festivities, that Girolamo had chosen as a time when he could escape without being observed. He took his way to Bologna, and prayed for admission to the Dominican convent of that city, where the great founder of the order lies enshrined. He made but one special request, that he might be appointed to perform the most menial duties of the fraternity. To a mind like that of Savonarola, the convent might have possessed many attractions. His ten- dencies were towards solitude rather than inter- BIRTH AXD EAELY YEARS. 39 course with his fellow-men ; and here lie might 2:ratifv his tastes. His love for S. Thomas and for theological study might have led him to desire a manner of life in which such studies might reason- ably have formed his principal occupation. How little such considerations weighed with him, we may judge not only from his declaration to his father that he had come to the resolution of leaving the world, because he could no longer endure the cor- ruption of the age, but also from the purpose which he formed respecting his employments when he entered the convent. Savonarola was not unaware of the dangers and temptations of the monastic life. He was, indeed, so fearful of putting on the habit of the religious in a worldly spirit, that, as he afterwards informed his friend and biographer, Pico della Mirandola, he had resolved not to take holy orders, nor even to addict himself to his favourite philosophical studies. It was his fixed intention to ask to be employed in manual labour, to work in the garden, to make clothes for the brethren, and the like. This resolu- tion, says Pico, he providentially forgot, God intend- ing him for a teacher of others. It is equally probable that in the same spirit of humility which prompted the resolve, he abandoned it in obedience to those under whom he was placed, and who dis- cerned in him a fitness for higher work. Although he had shrunk from divulging to his parents his intention of taking the religious habit, yet ho would not, for a moment longer than he 40 SAVONAROLA. thought necessary, leave them in ignorance or anxiety as to the step he had taken. Among his books in his desk he left a paper, of which a copy has recently been found, on Gontem]^t of the World, and on the following day he wrote a letter to his father, explaining the reasons which had moved him to leave his home. The treatise simply sets forth the thoughts which had been growing so strong within him of the evils of the world. The copy recently discovered bears upon it the following touching words, in Italian, from his father's hand : — " I remember how, on the 24th of April, which was S. George's Day, in 1475, Geronimo my son, student in arts, departed from his home and went to Bologna, and entered among the brothers of S. Dominic in order to become a brother ; and left me, me Niccolb della Savonarola his father, the underwritten consolations and exhor- tations for my satisfaction." The letter, from which we have already quoted, was marked by the most tender affection as well as by the greatest earnestness. He tells his father, " I wish you, as a true man and one who despises fleeting things, to be influenced by truth and not by passion, like women; and to judge, under the dominion of reason, whether I am right in flying from the world." And then he speaks of the evils of the age in words already quoted. " And so, dear father," he goes on, " instead of weeping, you have rather to thank the Lord Jesus, who has given you a son, and then has preserved him to you for twenty- BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 41 two years; and not only this, but besides has de- signed to make him his knight militant {militanto cavalier 6). Ah, do you not regard it as a great grace to have a son a knight of Jesus Christ ? But, to speak shortly, either it is true that you love me or it is not true. I know well that you will not say you do not love me. If then you love me, since I have two parts, that is the soul and the body, do you love most the soul or the body ? You cannot say the body, because you would not love me if you loved the baser part of me. If then you love the soul best, why should you not seek the good of the soul ? Therefore you ought to rejoice, and to regard this as a triumph. ... Do you believe that it is not a great grief for me to be separated from you? Believe me, that never since I was born have I had a greater grief nor a greater affliction of mind — see- ing myself abandon my own blood, and go among people unknown, in order to make a sacrifice to Jesus Christ of my body, and to sell my will into the hands of those whom I never knew. But yet, considering that God calls me, and that He does not disdain of us worms to make Himself servants, I could not be so bold as not to incline to His most sweet voice, which says, * Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you.' ... I pray you then, my dear father, put a stop to your lamenta- tions, and do not give me more sadness and grief than I now endure — not for grief of that which I have done, which I certainly do not wish to recall. 42 SAVONAROLA. even if I thought I could become greater than Ceesar ; but because I am still made of flesh, as you are, and the senses fight against the reason. ... It only remains for me to pray you, like a man, to comfort my mother, whom I pray, together with you, to give me your benediction ; and I will always pray fervently for your souls. Ex Bononia, die XXV. Aprilis (Bologna, April 25), 1475. . . . Sierony- mus Savonarola filius vester. To the noble and excellent man Nicolas Savonarola, the best of parents (jparenti ojptimo)^ * What effect this letter may have produced we cannot tell; but there is a second letter extant, without date, in which he complains of their exces- sive grief. "Why do ye weep, blind ones?" he begins. " Why do ye complain so much ? If our temporal prince had called me now to gird a sword on my side, in the midst of the people, and to make me one of his knights, what joy you would have experienced! And if I had then repudiated such an honour, would you not have thought me a fool ? . . . And now the Prince of princes. He who is of infinite power, calls me with a loud voice, even prays me (0 great love ! ) with a thousand tears, to gird a sword on my side, of the finest gold and pre- cious stones, and wishes to place me among the number of His knights militant. And now, because * This letter lias been often published; but an accurate copy was for the first time printed, from the autograph, by the Count Carlo Capponi. Yillari reproduces this text, and from his work ; our translation is made. BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 43 I have not refused so great honour, although I am unworthy (and who would refuse it?) — because I, giving thanks to so great a Lord, since He thus wills, have accepted it, — you all afflict me, when you ought to rejoice and give thanks ; and the more you do so the more you show that you love me." 44j SAVONAROLA. CHAPTER III. MONASTIC LIFE AT BOLOGNA. When Savonarola arrived in Bologna, the city, after many variations of fortune, had become, in name at least, the second capital of the papal States ; although the family of Bentivoglio, by whom it was governed, held the papal supremacy very lightly. But the young novice had, at this time, no thoughts for questions which he afterwards felt to be of vital importance to the well-being of Italy. We may even doubt whether that splendid shrine in the convent church, one of the greatest works of Mcola da Pisa, upon which so many pilgrims have gazed with admiration, interested him otherwise than as the resting-place of the great founder of his order. During his noviciate, and indeed during his whole life at Bologna, he abstained, as far as possi- ble, from all social intercourse with his fellow-men. Every hour that he could gain for the purpose he spent in silent meditation and prayer.. His com- panions compared his manner and conduct to those MONASTIC LIFE AT BOLOGNA. 45 of the ancient ascetics and hermits of Egypt, as they saw him moving about like a ghost, worn to a shadow by fasts and vigils. In every respect he kept his vow of poverty to the letter, or rather in excess. He ate only enough to sustain life. His garments were the roughest and the coarsest that he could procure, but always scrupulously clean. His shoes were long and turned up at the points, for, he said, " they would be full of precious stones in Paradise." His bed consisted of 'pieces of wood and sticks laid across so as to form a kind of lattice-work, on which were placed a sack of straw and a woollen sheet, with a coarse frock thrown over them. As regards his vow of purity, his biographers speak of his eminence in this respect as being repre- sented in his writings, and as the reason for his being favoured with visions of the world of spirits. Nor was his obedience less remarkable ; for while he was in most perfect subjection to his superiors, he was humble and gentle to equals and inferiors, and, although he spoke very little, he was always kind and affable in manner. It was perhaps the happiest and most tranquil period in all his life. Speaking of it afterwards,* he says : " It was said to me. Go forth from your home and your country, and leave all. And I was guided to the harbour of the sea, that is, to religion, which is the true and safe harbour to him who seeks for salvation. And I came to this port when I was twenty-three years * Prcdiche sopra alqiianti Salmi ed Aggeo, Yen. 1544, fol. 141. 46 SAVONAEOLA. old. And two things above all others I loved, which drew me to this harbour — liberty and peace." With all his gentleness and humility, he did not lack those powers of sarcasm which were afterwards displayed in his preaching. There is a story told of two monks of Yallombrosa who came to visit him, who were themselves so struck by the contrast between his coarse garments and their own more luxurious attire, that they thought it necessary to give some explanation of their usages. Their frocks, they said, were made of fine cloth because it wore so much longer. "Ah," replied the Frate, drily, " what a pity it is that S. Benedict and S. Giovanni Gualberto did not know that ; for then they might have worn the same ! " * During the seven years that he remained in the convent at Bologna he was unremitting in his studies. His old favourite S. Thomas he never abandoned, and he greatly delighted in works of devotion like those of Augustine and Cassian ; but there grew in him an ever-increasing tendency to turn from other books, and give himself more and more to the study of the Holy Scriptures. He is said t to have committed the whole of the Canonical Books to memory, a practice which bore abundant fruits in his after labours ; and it was here that he formed the habit, never afterwards abandoned, of making notes on the margins of his Bible, his * Burlamacclii gives the story here ; it is quite as likely, how- ever, to have belonged to the period of his reforms at Florence, t Burlamacchi. MOXASTIC LIFE AT BOLOGNA. 47 Breviary, and other books. Several ot these are still in existence, and one of the most interesting objects now shown in the Convent of S. Mark at Florence is one of his Bibles, kept in his cell, the margins of which are covered with notes in his beautiful but minute handwriting. It is an instance of the affectionate interest which his early bio- graphers took in the smallest particulars of his life and habits, and also of the uncertain inferences they drew from them, that Burlamacchi mentions that this habit of annotating his Bible and Breviary with all that was necessary for preaching and hear- ing confessions enabled . him to travel without a valise {la valigia) ! It was not long before his superiors deteimined to make use of his gifts for the benefit of the commu- nity; and therefore they set him to instruct the novices of the convent. It was with no small reluc- tance that he complied with this command, foresee- ing, as he did, that it would involve the sacrifice of many hours of solitude, of meditation and prayer ; but he obeyed, and in this, as in every other occupation, he gained the esteem and admiration of his brethren. The "peace and liberty" which he had sought and found might now have secured to him a calm and tranquil life, if he could have forgotten the evils of the world, if he had not found these evils asserting their dominion within the walls of the convent. Already, we are told, he was struck with the contrast between the monks of his own dav and 48 SAVONAROLA. those of earlier and better days, when he saw multi- tudes around him heedless of the Word of God and the life of grace, and " intent only upon enriching the churches and building the most beautiful con- vents, and many others occupying themselves in numberless vanities." It might seem to be a proud boast which he uttered in later days, that he was entirely devoted to the pursuit of truth ; but those who follow him from the time of his entering the Dominican order throughout his life, and thoughtfully ponder his words and his deeds, his utterances in public and in private, and his conduct as a priest and a patriot, will hardly refuse to allow the truth of his claim. " I have always," he says, " striven after truth with all my might, and sought unceasingly to win all men to it, as I have declared a constant war against falsehood, which I have always hated. The more trouble I bestow upon it, the greater becomes my longing, so that for it I could abandon life itself. When I was but a boy, I had such thoughts ; and from that time the desire and longing after this good has gone on increasing to the present day." * " Truth," he says in another place, " should be loved for its own sake, and brings great joy to those who find it. It enlightens the spirit with a divine splen- dour, and leads the soul to communion with God, who is Truth itself." t * Dialogo della verita 'profetica, fol. 72. t Prediche sopra diversi Salmi, etc., fol. 42. (Qu. by Meier, p. 21.) MONASTIC LIFE AT BOLOGXA. 49 To such a man tlie condition of men and things aroimd him was intolerable. His first poem has shown us what he thouo^ht of the world before he left it. He had not been long in the convent before he wrote a second on the ruin of the Church {Be ruina Ecclesise), It is said to have been composed in the year 1475, the first of his monastic life. "Where," he asks, addressing the Church as a " chaste virgin " to whom he, although unworthy, belongs, being one of the members of her eternal Spouse — " where is the light of the early days ? Where are the gems and the fine diamonds ? Where are the burning lamps and the beautiful sapphires ? " — meaning the saints and martyrs, the love and devotion of the early Church. "Where are the white stoles and the sweet chants ? " The virgin takes him by the hand and leads him to a cave, and tells him that, when she saw proud ambi- tion enter Eome, she departed and dwelt where she could lead her life in lamentation. Then she shows him her woimded body and her dishevelled hair; and when he asks who it is that has thus dethroned her and broken her peace, she answers, "A false, proud harlot, Babylon." " And I : * In God's name, lady, teU me, can these great wings be broken?' And she : * Mortal tongue must not speak it, nor is it allowed to take up arms. Weep and be silent, for this is best.' " * AVhen we remember that Sixtus IV. was Pope * The poem is given, with copious notes, in the Poesie, edited by Audin de Kians. (Firenze, 1847.) I- E 50 SAYOXAROLA. during the whole of the seven years that Savonarola spent at Bologna, we shall understand what hope of reformation he could have drawn from the character of the Head of the Church. But the secular rulers of Italy were no better — how could they heve been better? — than its spiritual chief. Liberty had perished in all the ancient republics, Venice alone, perhaps, excepted. Bologna was ruled by a Benti- voglio. Milan was under the weak but tyrannical Galeazzo Sforza. Florence, after being ruled by the wise and able Cosimo de' Medici, who never discarded the forms of liberty even when the reality was gone, had been succeeded (1464) by his weak and in- capable son, Piero,* who, happily for the prospects of his family, died in 1469, and was succeeded by Lorenzo. It is not merely in order to illustrate the condition of the world at this time, but also on account of its direct bearing upon the history of Savonarola, that we pause for a moment to relate the history of a tragedy, neglected by no historian of this period, which took place at Florence in 1478, three years after Savonarola entered the convent at Bologna, four years before he left it and came to Florence. Whether we consider the character and position of the family assailed, the nature and ramifications of the con- spiracy formed against them, the designs of the conspirators, or the actual results of the attempt, * Yon Eenmont shows, however, that this Piero was a man possessed of many admirable qualities — very diflferent from his grandson who bore the same name. MONASTIC LIFE AT BOLOGNA. 51 the conspiracy of the Pazzi will appear to be one of the most remarkable events of the period to which it belongs. The name of the Medici will hold a prominent place in these pages. They were the most powerful family in Florence, and, in some respects, they had merited the influence to which they had attained. The Pazzi were among the oldest families and the greatest of the same State. They were connected with the Medici by marriage ; but for some reasons, real or imagined,* they bore a grudge against them, and they envied them the power which they possessed in Florence. But the Pazzi were not alone in the conspiracy. It has even been doubted whether they were its prime movers. That place has, by some historians, been assigned to the Holy Father him- self ; and if Sixtus IV. was not the instigator of the attempt,t there is no doubt that he gave it the most energetic support, and his nephew, the Count Girolamo Kiario, took an active part in the whole scheme. Their design was to murder Lorenzo de* Medici and his brother Giuliano, and so crush the power which was inconvenient to the Pope and hateful to the Pazzi. Determined to stop at no obstacles, when they found it almost impossible to slay the two brothers at once, they determined at last to assassinate them at the time of High Mass, * They were not merely imaginary. Cf. Yon Eeumont, Lorenzo de' Medici, bk, ii. c. 1. t The Pope professed, at least, to discountenance the murder. 52 SAVONAROLA. on the occasion of a great solemnity in the cathedral of Florence. A soldier of some reputation, by name Montesecco, had been employed to perpetrate the crime; but the man who was ready to commit murder was not prepared to incur the guilt of sacrilege. They had to find other tools, and they found them in two priests. This can hardly seem wonderful, when the conspirators were supported by the Pope, and had for their most active leader Francesco Salviati, Arch- bishop of Pisa. This man had been appointed by the Pope, in opposition to the wishes of the Medici, and he was now in Florence, taking counsel with the other conspirators, waiting to reap his revenge. The murder accomplished, they were going to raise the populace, under the pretence of restoring their lost liberty, and to take possession of the property of the murdered men. The signal for the striking of the blow was the bell which announced the elevation of the host ; and Giuliano de' Medici* fell dead under the knife of one of the assassins. Lorenzo was only wounded, and was able to defend himself until, with the assist- ance of his friends, he escaped into the sacristy of the church. Still the conspirators hoped their work was not in vain : they might raise the populace and finish it by open violence. The populace rose in defence of the Medici. In a few hours the Arch- bishop of Pisa was swinging, in his episcopal robes, * Of this Giuliano, Pope Clement VII. was the illegitimate son. MONASTIC LIFE AT BOLOGNA. 53 from a window of the Palazzo Vecchio, and one of the Pazzi was hanged beside him. The conspiracy had failed, and many of the conspirators were hunted down, and caught and slain. The wrath of the Pope knew no bounds, and broke forth in threats and anathemas — not against the sacrilegious desecrators of temples, the con- spirators, the assassins; but against Florence and the Medici. It is worth while to glance at the document in which he set forth the wrongs he had suffered from the Florentines, and the punishment he found it necessary to inflict upon them. "Accord- ing to the example of the Saviour," said his Holiness, "he had long suffered in peace the insults and the injuries of his enemies, and he should still have continued to exercise his forbearance, had not Lorenzo de' Medici, with the magistrates of Florence, and their abettors, discarding the fear of God, inflamed with fury, and instigated by diabolical suggestions, laid violent hands on ecclesiastical persons, hung up the archbishop, imprisoned the cardinal [his nephew], and by various means destroyed and slaughtered their followers [the accomplices of the assassins.] He then proceeded to excommunicate Lorenzo and the magistrates of the republic, and their " immediate successors, declaring them incapable of receiving or transmit- ting property by inheritance or will, and prohibit- ing their descendants from enjoying any ecclesiastical employment. By the same instrument he sus- pended the bishops and clergy of the Florentine 54 SAVONAROLA. territories from the exercise of their spiritual ftmctions." * These things were not done in a corner: the sound of them went throughout all the world. We may judge whether the Dominican friar at Bologna who, three years before, had in his Canzona spoken of Eome as Babylon, " a false, proud harlot," could now shake off the horror with which he regarded the state of the visible Church in its root and in its branches. The Pope, be it remembered, was that Sixtus IV. who occupied the " chair of Peter " during the whole of the seven years in which Savonarola was watching and praying, and studying and teaching, and grieving over the ruin of the Church, at Bologna. Amid such circumstances were his thoughts and purposes for the future being shaped. Under such influences was he trying to learn what work his Master had set him to do in the world. Savonarola's success as a teacher was so great that his superiors appointed him to preach ; nor was he slow in yielding obedience to the command. The fire was kindling within him, and he was preparing, unconsciously perhaps, to speak with his tongue words that would be felt and remembered. This result was not, however, achieved at once. It is with some astonishment that we learn how little his first sermons seem to have gained the attention of his hearers. The reasons were manifold, and they * Eoscoe, Life of Lorenzo de* Medici^ c. iv. Cf. also Capponi, RepubUica di Firenze, lib. v. c. 5. MONASTIC LIFE AT BOLOGNA. 55 are to be sought partly in the corrupt taste of the age, and partly in the peculiar genius and mission of the preacher. It had been the fashion with the popular preachers of those days to indulge in the most fanciful conceits and tricks of rhetoric, for the purpose of attracting and amusing their hearers. A sermon was, in their eyes, either a light recreation or a means of exer- cising their own dialectical subtlety. To the deep moral earnestness of Savonarola all this was horrible and revolting ; and it is possible that, in shrinking from the use of artifice in the pulpit, he may have shown a disregard of those rules of spoken composi- tion which few can afford to neglect. None of the early sermons have been preserved, so that we have no means of judging of them. It is very probable, however, that the Frate had not yet found his own proper manner of address ; that the emotions which were struggling within him had hardly shaped themselves into definite thoughts, so as to be ready for articulate and coherent utterance. Indeed, the testimony on the subject is not quite consistent. We learn, for example, that he was ordered by his superiors to go and preach at Ferrara ; and while we are told that his fellow-citizens heard his preaching with great favour, he himself complains, in a letter written to his mother, from Pavia, eight years after, that in him was fulfilled the saying : Neiiio loropheta in patria sua — " No prophet is accepted in his own country." * On the occasion of this visit to his * S. Lukeiv. 24. 56 SAVONAKOLA. native town he avoided meeting any of his old acquaintances, and he saw very little even of his parents, for fear of awakening sentiments which he wished to remain for ever dead. Although his public teaching seems to have been unsuccessful, this was not the case either with his private instructions or his personal admonitions. A story is told by his biographers of the remarkable effect produced on a number of hardened and reck- less men by his remonstrances. On a certain occa- sion he journeyed from Ferrara to Mantua in a boat alone with eighteen soldiers, who were playing and • using obscene language, when he asked leave to speak a few words to them. Pico says that he spoke to them for the space of half an hour most earnestly on the sinfulness of their life ; and both i he and Burlamacchi relate that, before he had ended his address, eleven of them fell prostrate at his feet, confessing their great and innumerable sins, and asking pardon with tears for the offences of which they had been guilty against the Frate and against God. But a series of events were about to occur, which were destined to alter the whole course of his life. In the same year in which he had been sent to preach in his native town (1482), a war broke out between Venice and Ferrara, which was at first carried on between these two states alone, but soon divided all Italy into two hostile factions. Florence alone remained undisturbed by the tumult which arose, while Ferrara was its very centre. MONASTIC LIFE AT BOLOGNA. 57 It was in many respects a strange and curious struggle. Pope Sixtus, it is said, had stirred up the Venetians at the beginning of the war, and there is no doubt that he was on their side; but he shortly afterwards came to see that his interests would be more advanced by espousing the cause of their enemies. He thereupon turned round, ex- communicated the Venetians, and did his utmost to inflame and keep alive the strife he had kindled. With such an ally on either side, it is not wonderful that the contending powers became anxious to con- clude a peace ; and this they accomplished in two years from the beginning of the war, 1484. This was the peace which proved the death of the Holy Father. " You announce to me," he said, " a peace of shame and disgrace." His grief and rage brought on an attack which carried him off on the following day. Savonarola was at Ferrara, in the convent of Santa Maria degli Angeli, when the war broke out ; and the Venetians having threatened to storm the city and massacre the inhabitants, a number of the brethren were sent away and distributed among different cities of Italy. Savonarola was among those who were sent to the convent of S. Mark at Florence. It was apparently with reluctance that he had gone to Ferrara, and in a letter afterwards written to his mother, he points out that it was better he should not remain there. " It is very seldom," he says, "that a monk can do his best work in his 58 SAVONAROLA. native country. People have less confidence in the counsels of a fellow-citizen than in those of a stranger. *No prophet is accepted in his own country/ said our Saviour ; and He was not accounted one by his own countrymen. If I wanted to do in Ferrara what I do in other cities, they would say, as they said of Christ : * Is not this the Carpenter, the son of a carpenter and of Mary ' — so of me : * Is not this Master Girolamo, who committed such and such sins, and who was no better than we were ? We know him well.' And they would give no heed to my W'ord. . . . Out of my own country," he adds, — it is a son writing in all simplicity to a mother — " it is not so. On the contrary, when I want to leave, men and women weep." It was not destined that the brother should remain at Ferrara ; and this change in his circum- stances was of the greatest import, as a turning point, perhaps the most important, in his life. He was bidding a last farewell to Ferrara and to those whom he loved so tenderly, and whom he was never again to see on earth. But w hat was the past which he was leaving, compared with the future upon which he was now entering? He might continue to be spoken of as Girolamo of Ferrara, but hence- forth it is as a brother of S. Mark's and a citizen of Florence that he belongs to the world and to history. How much depends upon what men call accidents ! Who can tell what the fortune of Savonarola would have been, if he had been sent to some other town MONASTIC LIFE AT BOLOGXA. 59 of Italy, undisturbed by the storms which raged in his new home ? There was not a second Florence ; and at a distance from this great city he might have been a great teacher, preacher, reformer — he could hardly have been insignificant anywhere — but his place in history would have been altogether different ; and so, indeed, would the history of Italy itself have been, for we may say, without hesitation, there was no other man of that age who could have filled his place. If there was no second Florence there was no second Savonarola. SAVONAEOLA. CHAPTER IV. THE BKOTHER OF S. MARK'S. The convent of S. Mark in Florence was originally built by a company of Sylvestrine monks from Val- lombrosa at the close of the thirteenth century, about the same time that the Palazzo Yecchio was built for the Signoria. The order of the Sylvestrines had its beginning some sixty years before, and came to have as many as twenty-five convents and three hundred brethren; but it is now almost extinct, many of its members having been absorbed into other societies. For a whole century these monks lived in their convent, honoured by the citizens of Florence for their virtues and their work. But the great plague of Florence, which broke out in 1400, and which has been so powerfully described by Boccaccio in the introduction to the Decameron, seems to have produced the same twofold effects which resulted from the plague at Athens, described by the still more powerful pen of Thucydides. While some had their devotion deepened and strengthened, THE BROTHER OF S. IMARK'S. 61 others became reckless, or fell into thoughtless and irreligious courses. With the Sylvestrines of S. Mark's the effect of the plague was to relax their discipline and to engender all those evils which flow from a neglect of rule. This degeneracy seems to have gone on for a whole generation. About the time of the plague there was a society of Dominicans which, after several vicissitudes of fortune and of character, had been settled at the small convent of San Georgio, on the south side of the Amo, in the San Miniato district, behind the Boboli Gardens.* This Domini- can society had imdergone more than one removal, but had been so improved by the discipline that it was determined by the Pope and the Signoria that they should take possession of the larger convent of S. Mark, and transfer their own to the Sylvestrines. When these reformed Dominicans of the Lombard congregation f took possession of San Marco, it was in a state of the utmost dilapidation. The dormitory had recently been destroyed by a fire, so that the monks were forced to seek for shelter in wooden huts. Cosimo de' Medici, the great founder of Medicean influence in Florence, undertook the restoration of the buildings. He promised the monks ten thousand scudi for the purpose, but he is said to have spent as much as thirty-six thousand. * The gardens were, of course, still in the future. In fact, the Pitti Palace is said to have been undertaken in the very year of the exchange mentioned in the text, and the building to havo been commenced five or six years later. t It is of some importance to note their description. 62 SAVONAEOLA. The work extended over seven years (1436 — 1443), and was carried on under the direction of Michel- ozzo Michelozzi, an architect of some celebrity. It should be stated, however, that the buildings have since his time been greatly altered. The church, for example, which dates back as far as 1290, had its fagade reconstructed by Pronti, in 1777. It should be added that Cosimo — Fater Fatrise, as he was called, and not altogether without reason — did not rest contented with having merely reconstructed the buildings of the convent. He resolved upon a more difficult enterprise — to bestow upon the monks the gift of a valuable library. Luckily for his purpose, there had just died Niccolo Niccoli, the most cele- brated collector of books and manuscripts, and one of the most learned men of that age. His collec- tion, which was of great value, he left to the public, but burdened by very heavy debts. Cosimo paid off the debts, and, after retaining some valuable manuscripts as his own, he presented the remainder to the convent of S. Mark. It was the first public library in Italy, and was not merely highly prized by the brethren, but was the means of stimulating the literary industry of the society. But the rebuilding of the monastery was only a preparation for those nobler works of art which, are some of the most striking illustrations of the heavenly spirit of a brother of the newly settled society, Fra Angelico, or as he was then called, Fra Giovanni da Fiesole. It was a wonderful era in .Florentine art. Exactly a century before, Giotto THE BROTHER OF S. MARK'S. 63 had been raising his matchless Campanile by the side of the ancient Baptistery of S. John. While Fra Giovanni was covering the walls of San Marco with the fruits of his devotion, Brunelleschi was planning and carrying out the execution of that glorious dome, the admiration and perhaps the inspiration of Michael Angelo,* which was to soar aloft and dominate the whole city, rising a hundred feet higher even than Giotto's tower. Of these charming frescoes we can say but little here. No one who has seen them in their marvellous freshness on the walls of S. Mark's is likely to forget them. Untravelled Englishmen may study them in the admirable copies of the Arundel Society ; and we may well believe that they often kindled the pious imagination and soothed the troubled heart of the new friar. Fra Angelico's is not the only great name con- nected with S. Marco. There was another, which, in those days at least, was held in still greater esteem, that of Antonino, "one of those charac- ters which do real honour to the human race." f He was the creator of many beneficent institutions in Florence; and he renovated and reorganized many' others. It was he who converted the society of the Bigallo, founded by S. Peter Martyr for the extermination of heretics, into a charitable institu- * Michael Angelo's reply is well known, when he was told that he was about to erect for St. Peter's at Rome a finer dome than Brunelleschi's. " Piu grande," he said, " ma non piii bello." t Villari. 64 SAVONAEOLA. tion. Instead of carrying on the bloody work of the Inquisition, the brethren now devoted them- selves to the care of orphan children. He was also the founder of the *'Good Men of S. Martin" (Buon' TJomini di San Martino), who collected alms for the relief of the deserving and shame-faced poor (poveri vergognosi) at their own houses. His self-denial was equal to his warm love for God and man, and his active charity on behalf of the suffering and needy. He died in 1459, lamented as a public loss by all Florence; and Savonarola found his name revered, and his life held up as the highest example for the imitation of the brotherhood, when he arrived in Florence, in 1482. When Savonarola came to Florence, he often heard the brethren of San Marco extolling the piety of Sant' Antonino ; but it was not long before he discovered that their admiration did not involve the purpose of imitation. His was more a name to boast of than an ideal to reach after. In this convent, too, all was worldliness and irreligion. The immorality of the people had assumed a more refined form under the influence of the prophets of the Benaissance. In this mediaeval Athens there was little that seemed coarse and outwardly re- pulsive; but its polished cynicism, its refined sensuality, its utter heartlessness and unbelief were, if possible, more disgusting to the serious, earnest spirit of Savonarola than evil more coarse and less disguised would have been. The " religious " were hardly different from the men of the world. Keli- THE BROTHER OF S. :MARK'S. 65 gion was the thing they cared for least; even theology had little interest for them. We can imagine with what bitter grief and disappointment Savonarola beheld the eager interest manifested in Plato and Aristotle, and the utter neglect of S. Thomas and even of S. Paul. It must be remembered that Fra Girolamo had no personal reason for mortification. His reputation had gone before him, and he had hardly entered the new brotherhood when the prior, Yincenzo Badella, apjDointed him to the same post which he had held at Bologna, that of Lettore, or instructor of the novices ; and he discharged the duties of his office with great success for the four years of his first residence at Florence (1482 — 1486). It was probably for this reason that he was appointed in the year 1483 to preach the Lent sermons at S. Lorenzo; but here, as in his former attempts, he met with no success. It is said that only five and twenty persons could be induced to listen to his sermons ; and this at a time when the church of Santo Spirito was crowded by multitudes who listened eagerly to a rival preacher, a favourite of the Medici, named Mariano da Gennazzano. The reasons for Savonarola's failure are to be found both in his subjects and in his manner. The topics on which alone he cared to preach were connected with those subjects in which his hearers took no interest. The Frate was in deadly earnest, whilst the Florentines had lost all depth and seriousness of thought. He had started on a crusade I. F 66 SAVONAROLA. against sin and unbelief in all their forms, burning with an unquencliable love of God and an irrepres- sible zeal for the salvation of souls. To them, for the time at least, sin and holiness, condemnation and salvation, were become almost unintelligible expressions. It would hardly be possible to give a more clear and intelligible idea of the contrast than that which is set forth by contemporaries respecting the preach- ing of Savonarola on the one hand, and this Mariano da Gennazzano on the other. * Benivieni, in a letter written long afterwards to Pope Clement VII., the natural son of the murdered Giuliano de' Medici, in defence of Savonarola's teach- ing, relates that on one occasion he said to the Frate, " Father, it cannot be denied that your doctrine is true, useful, and necessary; but your manner of expression is wanting in grace, especially as this admirable Fra Mariano is here every day." Savo- narola replied, " This elegance of language must be allowed to give way before the simplicity of preach- ing sound doctrine." There is no doubt that Savo- narola's preaching was at that time defective in various respects. His voice is said to have been weak, his intonation bad, his action awkward, his pro- nunciation wanting in refinement, his style heavy. Oppressed by the weight of his matter, he probably neglected the order and method without which it is almost impossible to convey effectively and impres- sively one's thoughts in public speaking. But there * For this I am indebted to Villari. THE BROTHER OF S. MARK'S. 67 were other reasons to be found in the utter corruption of the public taste, in the false notions almost universally prevailing on the mission and work of the Christian preacher. A better proof of this statement could hardly be adduced than that which is found in the judgement pronounced on the preaching of Fra Mariano by a critic no less competent than Politian. His com- mendations of this preacher, as Villari remarks, form the best illustration of his own defects and those of the admiring audience in general. " I went," he says, "rather prejudiced against him, for the loud applause had made me distrustful. I had hardly, however, entered the church, when the dress, the countenance, the figure changed my mind, and 1 instantly desired and expected something great. I confess that some- times in the pulpit he seemed to grow to a super- human stature. He began to speak. I am all ears [mark] at his melodious voice, his well-chosen words, his sonorous sentences. Then I remark the divisions, I observe the periods, I am dominated by the harmonious cadence," and so forth. This was the judgement of a man of great learning, and of the most refined taste. What, then, must have been the opinion and sentiments of the masses? It can hardly be surprising that the rough prophetic utterances of Fra Girolamo failed at first to gain the ears* which sought for gratification in elegant language, apt quotation, classical allusions, graceful * BurlamaccM says that his failure seemed then so complete that he thought of giving up preaching and keeping to the exposition 68 SAVONAROLA. gestures — in oratory wliicli was intended merely to charm, sometimes to amuse, but which was never animated by any more lofty purpose. Brooding on the evils of the age ; striving with all his might to deliver his testimony for God and for righteousness ; preparing himself by long vigils, fasts, prayers, Savonarola found that his was indeed a voice "crying in the wilderness," and he must often have asked whether some clearer and higher guidance might not be vouchsafed from on high to one who so truly desired and laboured to win back this people to Christ. In two things he never wavered — in his faith in God, and in his consciousness of a divine mission. He knew the righteousness of God and the love of God. He was sure that such a Being would not look with complacency upon the corruptions of Florence, of Italy, of the world and the Church. It must be His will not to destroy these erring children, but to bring them back to Himself ; to bring them back by loving and gentle ways, if that could be done — if otherwise, by chastisements and sufferings. And what was his own part in this work ? and how could he accomplish it? If he alone were left of the prophets of the Lord, he must not shrink from his mission. Then he turned to the Bible, which was now, more and more, his constant, almost his exclusive com- panion, and he found in the condition of Israel of old a picture of that which was passing around him of Scripture : that he was advised to do this, and actually announced publicly his intention of doing so. THE BROTHER OF S. MARK'S. 69 in the Christian Church, and in the voices of the prophets those very warnings which were forming themselves within his own heart and striving for utterance on his tongue. If God spoke to His ser- vants then, why should He not speak now ? The need could never have been greater, more urgent ; the perplexities of the age could never have been more involved. What could man do in such a case ? Must not God speak ? At last the vision came. One day the heavens seemed to open before him, and there appeared a representation of the future calamities of the Church. At the same time a voice was heard commanding him to go and proclaim these things to the people. At last he had obtained the guidance for which ho had been waiting, the command which he had no right and no power to disobey. Ho had seen a vision which told him that the Church was to bo chastised and reformed, and he was ready to go forth, like the Baptist of old, and cry: "Kepent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand." " Now, also" — the words seem to express exactly what was passing in his mind, what he believed he was receiving from God — " the axe is laid unto the root of the trees : therefore every tree which bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire." This was in the year 1484. It must almost have seemed as though Divine Providence were preparing for a change in the state of the Church ; for in this very year Sixtus IV. died. Surely there must be a change for the better. We have already heard 70 SAVONAROLA. what the change was. Sixtus was succeeded by Innocent VIII. The hopes that were excited by the death of his predecessor were now abandoned. The Papacy, at least, would give no help in the reformation of the Church. Whether because of his failure in Florence or for some other reason, Savonarola was sent on the two following Lents (1484 and 1485) to preach at San Geminiano, a small town in the mountains of Siena. Although in those days a place of far greater importance than at present, San Geminiano was found to contain a population more open to impres- sions such as Savonarola wished to produce. It may have been for this reason, in part, but doubt- less also, and far more, in consequence of the new convictions which had been wrought within him, that he now began to announce, as with prophetic voice, the three points which were henceforth to be the great subject of his preaching. That he did already believe them to be the subject of revelation to his own spirit, there can be no doubt ; although for the present he was contented to declare them as deductions from the Bible, regarding his hearers as not yet ready to receive them as the echoes of the voice of God. The three statements which he now for the first time clearly set forth were the fol- lowing : — 1. That the Church will be scourged, 2. And then renovated ; 3. And this will be soon.* * La Chiesa sark flagellata, e poi rinnovata ; e cio sara presto. THE BROTHER OF S. MARE'S. 71 It appears that lie obtained a hearing from these mountaineers, which had not hitherto been accorded to him ; and when he returned to Florence, it was with the conviction deepened that he was now walking in the path marked out for him by the providence and grace of God. But his first period of residence at Florence was drawing to a close, and he was now to leave it for four years. These four years form a very obscure part of his history ; but we can trace his life and his work at various points during that period of time. Of his thoughts at this time we know little : only we are sure that a great part of his solitary hours was spent in meditating upon the evils of the age and upon the work which it was given him to perform, and we know that this consciousness of his work was ever and anon breaking out in his public utterances. It is at Brescia that we first meet with him (1486), and now expounding the Apocalypse. From this time we must date his plain and open announcement of the evils coming upon Italy, and the powerful effects of his words. Visions now seem to multiply, and he is no longer, in his own consciousness at least, a mere expositor of the written word ; he is, in some sense, a prophet sent by God, proclaiming his warn- ings and counsels with the tone of one who can say. Thus saith the Lord." It may be expected that something should be said on the nature of these visions and revelations;, but history refuses to give a decisive explanation 72 SAVOXAROLA. of questions like these. Who can tell when a gracious illumination ceases and a supernatural guidance begins ? Who can tell when the percep- tion of the thoughts and destinies of men arises from a devout meditation on Holy Scripture, and an earnest contemplation of the ways and works of men and of nations, and when it is given by direct inward revelation from God? How uncertain the Frate himself felt about this line of division, we shall have occasion to see hereafter. It may here be said, once for all, that we make no pretension to solve these mysteries. Of one thing only we are sure — that Savonarola was profoundly convinced of his visions, that he believed he was speaking in the name of the Lord, that he was prepared to suffer even death itself in vindication of his testimony, and that, before long, he saw clearly enough that this was the probable end of the work to which he felt himself called. At Brescia, as we have said, he began to expound the Apocalypse, and this with special reference to Brescia itself. One of the four and twenty elders mentioned in that book, he declared,* had come to him, and had foretold the terrible calamities that were in store for this city. It was to become a prey to its enemies; wives were to be snatched away from their husbands, and virgins were to be vio- lated; children would be slain before the eyes of * Burlamacchi states that this was related to the brethren of S. Clark's, in 1520, by the Prior of Brescia, who had heard the sermon in which Savonarola announced these future calamities. THE BROTHER OF S. MARK'S. 73 their motliers, and the streets would flow with blood. His words were not forgotten ; and when, six and twenty years afterwards, the city was sacked by the soldiers of Gaston de Foix, and six thousand of its inhabitants perished, it was believed by many that the prophecy of Era Girolamo was being fulfilled. From this time he seemed to be assured, not only of his mission, but of the divine communi- cations which he received respecting the future of the Church. He told his friend and biographer, the younger Pico della Mirandola, that on one occasion, while meditating on the text. Bonus es Til, et in honitate Tua doce me justificationes Tuas (" Blessed art Thou, 0 Lord : teach me Thy statutes." — Ps. cxix. 12), he felt his mind illumi- nated, and all doubts left him, and he felt more certainty of the things that were shown to him than a philosopher did of first principles.* It was not Savonarola alone who received these convictions during his residence at Brescia. Eazzi relates that a lady wrote to the Frate, announcing that she had received a revelation of his future history; but he, regarding her communication as a device of the devil, threw the letter into the fire. It is further related by his biographers t that, on Christmas night in this year, he remained im- movable for five hours, in an ecstasy, and that his * Burlamacchi, p. 22. t On the testimony of a brother, called by some Sebaatiano, by othcrs Angelo. See p. 127. 74 SAVONAROLA. face shone so as to illuminate the whole church; and this, it is said, occurred several times. Shortly afterwards we find him at Eeggio, still absorbed in those great thoughts of the reforma- tion and renovation of the Church and the world. A chapter of Dominicans was assembled for the consideration of questions of theology and of dis- cipline. While points of casuistry were being discussed, Savonarola sat silent and, as it seemed, wrapped in his own meditations, his monk's cowl drawn over his wrinkled forehead. In mere theo- retical disputations which tended to foster curiosity and dialectical subtlety, he took no interest. When, however, they turned to the question of manners and discipline, then the prophet of Brescia arose, and, in the midst of the assembled clergy and laity who had come to take part in the deliberations of the meeting, he spoke those words which had already moved the hearts of men when uttered from the pulpit. It was like a thunderbolt falling in the midst of them ; and they sat as though transfixed with astonishment. He spoke of the evils of the Church, but still more earnestly of the awful corruption of the clergy, as the fountain from which those evils flowed. Clergy and laity were alike impressed by his words. The fame of his power spread throughout Northern Italy, and many princes and others, who had begun to see the neces- sity for reform, entered into correspondence with the man who had given such distinct and powerful utter- ance to their own reflections. THE BROTHER OF S. MARK'S. 75 Among the laymen who were present at the con- ference was one who bore a distinguished name, whose friendship was once and for ever secured for the Frate by the impressions which he then received from his words. This was the elder Pico della ^lirandola, the intimate friend of Lorenzo de' Medici, then only twenty-three years of age. Savonarola, it will be remembered, was thirty-foui", and Lorenzo four years older — thirty-eight. This Giovanni Pico della Mirandola was the uncle of that Giovanni Francesco Pico della 3Iirandola who was afterwards the friend and subsequently the biographer of Savonarola. It was indeed a remarkable conquest in many ways. It was, so to speak, the first point at which the Frate had touched the men of the new learning. It was a victory where one could be least expected. Pico was one of the most refined and cultivated men of his age — one of those who took the greatest de- light in the intellectual subtleties which Savo- narola had already learnt to despise. He did not despise them because he had a mind incapable of discerning them. Perhaps it was the sense of their attraction for him, together with his conviction of their utter worthlessness, that made him turn from them almost with indignation. What things had been gain to him, these he now " counted loss for Christ." It was, perhaps, the sense of these twofold elements in his spirit that was the secret of the fascination he immediately exercised over Pico. This illustrious 76 SA.V0NAI10LA. man, even in his youth — and he did not live to be an old man — was reckoned the marvel of his aire. His knowledge of Latin was not perhaps wonderful : it was the literary language of his time and of his country. Greek, too, had begun to be extensively and profoundly studied. It is said that he knew both languages as well as his own. But he had also studied oriental lansiuaofes with success — a much more rare accomplishment; and he was an expert logician and a well-read philosopher. It is likely enouo^h that the charo;e of shallowness which was brou2:ht accainst him was well-founded. Few men can play the part of an " Admirable Crichton " with- out some compensating disadvantages. Still he was a man of prodigious attainments, of an unresting activity, with a memory the most retentive ; adding to all a simplicity and unworldliness which were rare among scholars, and a grace and vivacity which attracted and fascinated every one who came within the sphere of his influence. This was the man, distinguished beyond all who were present at this conference, into whose heart the words of Savonarola now fell with an irresistible power. From that moment Pico "felt," says Bur- lamacchi, " as if he could not live without him ; " and it appears he lost no time in giving effect to his new sentiments, for he shortly after sought to induce Lorenzo de' Medici to have the Frate recalled to Florence and San Marco. This request of Pico, the same writer tells us, Lorenzo imme- diately complied with, because " he was much loved. THE BROTHER OF S. MARK's. 77 by liim." The feelings now engendered in tlie heart of Pico towards his new friend were never extinguished. It was only his premature death, as , we shall see in the sequel of our narrative, that pre- vented his entering the Dominican convent, and it was his last request that he might be buried within its walls, in the habit of the order. Savonarola did not return to Florence for three years after this meeting. He had still work to do in Lombardy. His course we are able to trace only somewhat indistinctly. In July, 1489, we find him in his first convent at Bologna, where they wish him to undertake his old office of Lettore. On Christmas Day, in the same year, he is again at Brescia. In the following January he is at Pavia ; and he preached the Lent sermons at Genoa shortly afterwards. These bare facts have been recently made out, but nothing more is known of his work or its effect. As we were told that, when he left Ferrara for Florence, eight years before, he then bid a last farewell to his home, we may infer that he did not renew his intercourse with his family during these journeys. It was not that he forgot his parents or '\\ as destitute of natural affection. Before he left Pavia, on the 25th of January, 1490, he wrote a long and affec- tionate letter to his mother, regretting that his religious profession prevented his helping them in future otherwise than by his prayers. Although he could no longer see them face to face, he told them that he sympathized with them in all their joys and sorrows ; but he had for ever reno'inced the world. 78 SAVONAROLA. and given himself to labour in the vineyard of the Lord, for the salvation of his own soul and the souls of others. If God had given him this power, it must be his duty to use it ; and since he was chosen to this - holy office, his mother must be contented to see him exercise it away from his native place, because he would have more fruit elsewhere than at Ferrara. And then he uses the language already quoted. " Be assured," he concludes, " that my heart is still more firm in its purpose to give up all for the love of God and the salvation of my neigh- bours ; and, since I could not do this in my own native place, I must do it elsewhere." He had " forsaken all " and taken up his cross, and he would not lay it down for a moment. Although it is distinctly stated by his biographers that Lorenzo de' Medici did, in accordance with the request of Pico, at once invite Savonarola to return to Florence, some doubts have been suggested on the subject by Perrens, on the ground that he did not receive a call from the Prior of San Marco until July, 1489, and did not actually return to Florence until August, 1490. Such a theory, entirely unsup- ported by testimony, would need stronger arguments to render it credible. It is possible that the invita- tion of Lorenzo, who, on account of his father's and his own munificence to the convent, regarded him- self as almost its proprietor, or at least its patron, may have seemed to Savonarola no sufficient reason for a monk's adopting a particular society as his own. Even if at that time the prior joined in the THE BROTHER OF S. MARK'S. 79 invitation, Savonarola may have formed engagements which required his continued residence in Lombardy. Whatever the reason may have been, we find he was unable to return to Florence until a whole year after the prior had invited him to do so. But Perrens adds a suggestion still more impro- bable. Lorenzo, he thinks, had refused to comply with Pico's request because he did not wish to have the Frate in Florence again ; and Savonarola re- sented his backwardness. This, he imagines, was the beginning of his antipathy to the Magnificent ! Such a theory is quite inconsistent with the whole facts of the case, and it is inconsistent with the view which the French biographer himself gives of the character and conduct of Savonarola. Lorenzo never showed the slightest disposition to keep Savonarola at a distance. The Frate, in shunning all inter- course with the Medici, was only acting as the boy had done at Ferrara. The disciple of Him who was " not of the world," and who told His disciples that they were not of the world, stood in need of no personal affront to make him careful to avoid the appearance of the slightest compliance with the most refined and inveterate worldliness which per- haps Christendom had ever seen. It is related that he accomplished the journey from Genoa to Florence on foot, but that his strength was unequal to the journey, and failed him near Bologna. From that point, it is told, he re- ceived supernatural assistance, which was continued to him until he came to the gate of San Gallo. Be 80 SAVONAROLA. this as it may, he reached Florence in the year 1490, and from this point we are able to trace his history continuously and without interruption to its -close. We must now make a brief pause, and try to under- stand his position and circumstances in this new and most important stage of his career. ( 81 ) CHAPTER Y. FLOEENCE AND THE MEDICI. There are names which carry with them something of- a charm. We have but to say " Athens ! " 'and all the great deeds of antiquity break upon our hearts like a sudden gleam of sunshine ; "Florence!" and the magnificence and passionate agitation^of Italy's prime sends forth its fragrance towards us like blossom-laden boughs, from whose dusky shadows we catch whispers of the beautiful tongue. Athens was the first city of Greece ; rich, power- ful, with a policy which extended almost over the entire world of that age. Florence, however, in her fairest days, was never the first city of Italy, and in no respect possessed extraordinary advantages. She does not lie on the sea, and the Arno has never been navigable. The situation of Naples is more beautiful ; that of Genoa more royal ; Rome is richer in treasm*es of art; Venice possessed a greater political power, and yet, notwithstanding all that happened in Italy between 1250 and 1530, is colour- less when placed side by side with the history of this I. G 82 SAVONAROLA. one city. Her internal life surpasses in splendour the efforts of the others at home and abroad. The events, through the intricacies of which she worked her way with vigorous determination, and the men whom she produced, raise her fame above that of the whole of Italy, and place Florence as a younger sister by the side of Athens.* The origin of Florence is lost in obscurity, and its early history is mingled with fable.t Machiavelli, following Dante and Villani, tells us that the city of Fiesole being situated on the summit of the mountain, the inhabitants, in order to make its markets more convenient, had removed them to the spot between the roots of the mountain and the river Arno. By degrees this settlement, which is said to have origin- ally borne the name of Yilla Arnina or Camarzo, was greatly augmented ; among others by the soldiers of Sulla, and afterwards by those of Caesar, who were stationed there. The origin of its name, Florentia — afterwards and still called Firenze — has been disputed ; some think- ing that it was originally Fluentia, others that it was derived from the fact that the valley in which the city stands is richly covered with flowers. It would appear at least that the Florentines them- selves inclined to this opinion, since they gave their * These paragraphs are condensed from chap. i. of Grimm's Life of Michael Angela. t On the general subject of this chapter, see Machiavelli, Istorie Florentine; Sismondi, E^publiqiies Italiennes; and G. Capponi, Storia delta Ilejpuhhlica di Firenze. A very full account is given in the Misses Homer's Walks in Florence. FLOEENCE AND THE MEDICI. 83 cathedral church the name of Santa Maria del Fiore. The lily, too, is painted on the shield of the republic, and on the banner of Santa Eeparata, the patron saint of Florence, who gave its name to the church which formerly stood on the site of the cathedral. Cicero and Sallust both speak of the wealth of the Florentines; and Tacitus relates that, in the reign of the Emperor Tiberius (a.d. 17), a Florentine embassy came to Kome to petition the Senate that the waters of the Chiana — Tacitus calls it Clanis — should not be allowed to flow into the Arno, which, they said, would bring destruction upon them. When the Empire fell, Tuscany, like the other provinces of Italy, became subject to the Goths. It is said that a horde of these barbarians attacked the city, A.D. 405, under a leader called Kadaga- sius, but were defeated by the Koman general, Stilicho. This battle was fought on the 8th of October, the feast of Sta. Eeparata, a young Cappa- docian martyr, who was put to death at the age of twelve. It was reported that she appeared in the thick of the battle, bearing a red banner in her hand, on which was emblazoned the lily, the emblem of the Blessed Virgin. Hence the Florentine de- votion to this saint, whose festival they continued to celebrate in memory of that day; hence the adoption of her banner as the shield of the republic, and the dedication to her memory of that which was formerly their principal church. The story of the destruction of the city by Totila, and its subsequent reconstruction by Charles the Great, is a fable. 84 SAVONAROLA. Florence had bishops in the fourth century ; and towards the end of this period the most distinguished among them was Zenobis or Zanobius, in whose time S. Ambrose, who was a friend of his, is said to have come to Florence and consecrated the church of San Lorenzo.* It was believed that the appearance, of Sta. Keparata was an answer to the prayers of Zanobius, who was then bishop. Slowly the city went on increasing ; stretching out towards Fiesole, until about the year 1000 the inhabitants of the two cities had become one people, when they decided to unite their armorial bearings, making them red and white ; the red with a white lily being the ancient arms of Florence, and the white with an azure moon the arms of Fiesole. There is no truth in the story that Fiesole became subject to Florence by conquest. In the wars between the Empire and the Papacy Florence was deeply implicated, and was driven by her undying love of liberty to devote herself ardently to the side of the Pope. Such a statement may seem extraordinary and unintelligible to ourselves in these days ; but it is notwithstanding susceptible of easy explanation. In the conflict with the Emperors, the Popes when driven from Kome not unfrequently came to reside at Florence, and Victor II. died there in 1057; but the reason for the espousal of the papal cause by the Florentines lies deeper. It is easy to understand the point of , view of either party in this long-standing quarrel. From the German or * This is what Capponi says. Miss Horner says he consecrated Zanobius bishop in the church of San Lorenzo. FLORENCE AND THE MEDICI. 85 imperial side, nothing could be more natural than the Ghibelline view of the matter. From the Italian or papal side the Guelf policy was equally defensible. The Florentine leaning in this dispute, however, did not arise from any high notions of the papal prerogatives; but from the conviction that only in proportion as the Empire, and with it the power of the nobles, was held in check, could the liberties of the republic be established and se- cured. In illustration of this view of the subject, it may be noticed that, during the ascendency of the aristocracy, Florence was generally Ghibelline. Florence, like Athens, seems to have had, through- out all the days of its greatness at least, an un- quenchable passion for liberty ; and it owed all its greatness to its freedom. It is true that Florence, like other republics, was fickle, changeable, capri- cious, wayward, ungrateful ; but the free constitution of the city, in spite of all the abuses connected with its exercise and its history, gave scope to industry and rendered possible the development of the resources of the city. A man had power not alone or chiefly because he bore an honoured name, but because he actually possessed in himself that vital force which the public conscience and the public will were con- strained to acknowledge. A man was raised to authority because he was worthy of authority. It is true that jealousy and envy might remove him from his place and drive him from the State; but the commonwealth had profited by his services even when it had proved itself in a measure unworthy of 86 SAVONAROLA. them. The Florentines knew that the aristocratic party were hostile to their liberties, and that the oligarchy was sustained by the Emperor as suzerain ; and therefore they were Guelfs. In the same way, Pisa, subject to Florence, ever resenting the yoke whicli it was unable to shake off, took sides with its adversaries and became Ghibelline. It ought to be mentioned, as an important event in the history of the conflict, that Matilda, Countess of Tuscany, who held Florence and the other cities of that pro- vince under the Emperor, warmly espoused the cause of the Pope, and placed her wealth and her possessions at his service. In the great struggle between Gregory YII. (Hildebrand), and the Em- peror, Florence voluntarily took the same side. At her death the Countess left to the Eoman see the whole of her vast territories, which enormously increased the power of the Pope, but naturally em- bittered the strife between him and the Emperor, who regarded these possessions as legitimately falling by reversion to himself. From ancient times the Italian cities had ordi- narily been governed by two Consuls, in imitation of their mistress Kome ; and about the time of its union with Fiesole, Florence had associated with these, one hundred senators, chosen from the best men of the State. The consuls afterwards varied in number, sometimes being as many as twelve ; but they were always chosen from the nobility. By degrees — we cannot be quite sure of the time ; it was probably about the beginning of the thirteenth FLORENCE AND THE MEDICI. 87 century — these consuls came to be called Consuls of the Arti, or trades ; and here we have the germ of that institution which endured, under various names, as long as the liberties of Florence endured. Sometimes they were called Priors (Priori), some- times Buon' iiomini (Good men), sometimes Anziani, or Ancients ; sometimes they numbered four or six, sometimes ten, twelve, or twenty-four; but the general character of the office was maintained throughout. Amid all the changes in the form of the govern- ment, the Emperor was always, in theory at least, regarded as supreme, however little of actual power might be conceded to him. But when, by means of the Lombard league, the cities of Italy obtained at the peace of Constance a local government, there was appointed an officer of a very mixed character, as regarded both his position and his functions. He was named the Podesta, or Potesta, and was, during his term of office, at once the head of the State and the representative of the Emperor. His powers were both judicial and administrative : he had the power of the sword, and he was known as the Lord of the place. The Emperor originally intended that this official should be appointed and invested by him- self ; but this prerogative was rarely exercised, and eventually fell into disuse, so that the Podesta was elected by the citizens. The election was only for a year or six months, to prevent the abuse of powers so great as those with which he was en- trusted. He was required to be of a noble family ; and, to prevent his giving partial judgements, he 88 SAVONAROLA. was never cliosen from among the citizens, but from another city or country. Originally, in Florence, he had his residence at the archbishop's palace; afterwards in the palace which bore his name, the Palazzo del Podesta, now known as the Bargello ; finally in the Palazzo della Signoria, or Palazzo Vecchio. He was supreme over all the other magis- trates, and all public acts were performed in his name and under his authority. His dress was, like his office, peculiar and distinctive. He wore a long robe, white, yellow, or formed of cloth of gold : on his head he wore a red cap. In 1248, through the influence of Frederick, Prince of Antioch, the natural son of the Emperor Frederick II., the Guelfs were cast out of Florence, and the Ghibellines were for a time supreme ; but their triumph was of short duration. In 1250 the citizens met together, and forming themselves into a number of groups — reported diversely as 36 and 50 — they chose as many leaders and captains of a kind of local militia, who were also a council of government. In place of the Podesta, they elected a Captain of the People, with very much the same qualifications and powers ; but they soon afterwards restored the Podesta, assigning to him and the Captain independent tribunals, so that the one might be a check upon the other. They then divided the city into six wards, each ward, sesto or sestiere (sixth) as it was called, having over it two anziani (ancients or seniors) — twelve in all. These twelve seniors, who were elected for the space of two FLORENCE AND THE MEDICI. 80 months only, were required to live, to eat^ and to sleep in the public palace, and could only go out together. The collective body was called the Signoria. We see the government of the republic here assuming the shape which, in its general outlines, it retained up to the sixteenth century. Capponi divides the history of Florence into four periods : 1. The heroic stage, from 1183 to 1321; 2. The levelling stage, from 1321 to 1382 ; 3. The reac- tionary or aristocratic stage, from 1382 to 1434 ; 4. The Medicean or servile stage. But each of these was characterized by many changes. Hardly had the measures just described been adopted when the Guelfs were recalled and the Ghibellines ex- pelled. In 1267 (two years, let us remark, after the birth of Dante) the names of the twelve magis- trates were called, as we have said, Buori* uomini. In 1282 they are six in number, and are called Priori delle arti ; and now they are not the elect of wards, but the representatives of guilds, these arti or corporations of trades being first three and then six. The six priors, afterwards eight, are known as the College of Priors ; and over them, ten years later, is placed a Gonfaloniere (standard-bearer) of justice, elected, like the priors, for two months only. For our present purpose it may be sufficient to add that various councils were afterwards formed, to whom all laws proposed by the Signoria had to be referred before they were finally promulgated ; be- sides two smaller bodies known as the "Ten of War," whose name indicates their office, and the Magistracy 90 SAVONAROLA. of Eight {Otto di Guardia), who had to try criminal cases, and were appointed for a period of four months.* It may be suflB.cient further to note here that the tendency of Florence was, for many generations, more and more to democracy. To such an extent was this tendency carried that nobility, instead of being a qualification as in former days, became an absolute bar to office in the government of the republic; in consequence of which, a member of a noble family had to lay aside his privileges of nobility before he became qualified for election. There were, of course, fluctuations in the carrying out of these tendencies. When the citizens grew weary of popular turbulence, they would throw themselves into the arms of a despot, as in the case of the Duke of Athens ; but their native love of freedom made them speedily throw off the yoke, and there arose among them a new nobility, which was likely to prove no less dangerous than the old — a nobility which was derived from the trades or pro- fessions of Florence, and which drew its authority, not from ancient titles, but from intelligence, from wealth, and from the influence by which they are accompanied. One of these was the family of the Medici. There had been various names of distinction in this family; but the true founder of its greatness * A detailed account of the changes in the government of Florence will be found in Capponi, under the various dates; a good compressed account in Yon Eeumont, Lorenzo, bk. i. ch, 6. FLOEEXCE AND THE MEDICI. 91 was Giovanni de' Medici, the father of Cosimo, called Pater Fatrise, and the great-grandfather of Lorenzo, surnamed " the Magnificent." By industry and in- telligent enterprise, Giovanni acquired enormous wealth; and this, together with his liberality and affability, made him one of the most influential men in the city. He left two sons. From the younger descended that line of Medicean Grand Dukes under whom Florence fell so low as to forget all its former glory. It is with the elder, Cosimo, and his de- scendants that we have now to do. Cosimo, born in 1389, was thirty-nine years of age at the death of his father in 1429. Before this time, however, he had attained to great in- fluence and authority. He accompanied John XXIII. to the Council of Constance ; and when that Pope was deposed by the council, and Martin V. elected, Cosimo redeemed him from the Duke of Bavaria, by whom he had been detained a prisoner, and gave him a shelter in Florence during the remainder of his life. It is, perhaps, impossible for us who remember the evils that the Medici have inflicted on Florence, to regard with complacency their rise to power in the State. Yet it would be difficult to enumerate the attributes of a good citizen without including some of the conspicuous excellences of Cosimo de' Medici. There is at least a measure of truth in Voltaire's remark, that no family ever obtained its power by so just a title." By degrees Cosimo attained to so great authority in the republic, that he was practically absolute. 92 SAVONAROLA. The executive power was at this time exercised by eight priors — and a Gonfalonierey elected every two months; the judicial power was in the hands of officers, aliens to the State, bearing the names of Podesta and Captain of the People, chosen once a year ; and while Cosimo had sufficient influence to procure the election of magistrates who were willing to give effect to his wishes, he was at the same time careful to preserve the forms to which the citizens had been accustomed. While, therefore, the liberties of the people were being gradually but steadily undermined, this was carried on without any sus- picion being excited that they were parting with their birthright. It was by a kind of true instinct that they entitled Cosimo the father of his country ; but they did not reflect that " paternal government," which in the family is the only allowable method, has a tendency to weaken and enslave a nation. Whether animated by sentiments of patriotism, or by feelings of personal jealousy and enmity, there was a party in the city which could not regard the influence of the Medici with indiffer- ence or equanimity ; and a Signoria, or body of magistrates (comprehending the priors and the Gonfaloniere) was elected in opposition to them (1433). Kinaldo degli Albizzi, the leader of this opposition, obtained from the new magistracy a decree sentencing the Medici and their adherents to banishment. Cosimo was exiled to Padua for ten years. It was feared, however, that his enemies who had put him in prison, might make an attempt, on FLORENCE AND THE MEDICI. 93 his life ; and Cosimo provided for his safety by brib- ing his keepers, and so secured his escape. During his exile, it may be mentioned, he made the ac- quaintance of that Michelozzo Michelozzi whom he was afterwards to employ in the reconstruction of S. Mark's. Everywhere he was received and entertained as if he had been a prince on his travels, rather than a citizen banished from his home. Partly through his own patient fortitude, partly through the in- decent violence of his enemies, a reaction soon took place in Florence; and before a year had elapsed from the time of his departure, a magistracy friendly to the Medici was appointed, and Cosimo and his brother were recalled, and their opponents driven into exile. When Cosimo returned to Florence, although he did not spare his foes, he showed no resentment towards the citizens ; but proceeded to multiply his benefactions to every useful object. Among these he gave a prominent place to the advancement of learning. It has been said that Cosimo was merci- ful to his enemies. The truth, however, is that he took care to preserve the forms of law while driving numbers of them into banishment.* We have referred to his munificence in being the second founder of S. Marco, and in having provided it * When remonstrated -with on account of the numbers banished^ and told that the city would be wasted (guasta), he replied : Meglio guasta che perduta (" Better wasted than lost "). Under his bland courtesy there was fixed and ruthless determination. 94 SAVONAROLA. with a library; but he may indirectly have for- warded a still greater work than this. The man whom he selected to assist in the arrangement of the library left by Niccolo Niccoli, and presented by Cosimo to the Dominicans of S. Marco, was Tomaso Calandrino, the son of a poor physician of Sarzana. Within a few years this Thomas of Sarzana, as Pope Nicholas V., was to begin the formation of the great library of the Vatican. While Cosimo was thus wisely and liberally, out of his princely fortune, promoting special works of utility, he was not only interesting himself in the government of the State, but he was effectually promoting the spread of learning, and especially the study of the Greek language, which, after being revived in the days of Petrarch and Boccaccio, had begun to languish. Among those whose studies he encouraged and assisted was Marsilio Ficino, the son of his favourite physician, whom he appointed over the academy which he established at Florence for the study of the Platonic philosophy. It was under his patronage that Ficino commenced the trans- lations of Plato which he was enabled afterwards to publish by the liberality of Lorenzo. Cosimo died at the age of seventy-five, in 1464. He was full of honours as of years ; but his last days were not unclouded with anxieties. His younger son Giovanni, of whoni he had entertained the highest expectations, died before him; and Piero, who had married a daughter of the house of Tornabuoni, had not inherited the genius of his FLORENCE AND THE MEDICI. 95 family. Piero's eldest son, Lorenzo, was only six- teen at the time of his grandfather's death; and, although he had given promise of remarkable powers, his youth rendered any calculations re- specting the future very uncertain. Indeed, Cosimo never seems to have felt very confident with regard to the fortunes of his family. When he was adorning Florence by building palaces, churches, monasteries, he used to say: " I know the humours of this city " — he had had some experience of them in this very way — " fifty years will not pass before we are driven out of it ; but the buildings will remain." " Words as wise as they were magnanimous," says Capponi,* "and a good foundation for the greatness of his house." Piero lived only five years after the death of his father ; and it was well, perhaps, for his house that it had not longer to suffer from his weakness and incapacity.! Well, also, it was for Lorenzo that his mother was Lucrezia Tornabuoni ; one who was able to form his young mind, and to impress upon it a stamp which it never lost. Next to her influence was that of his tutor, his father's friend and jproUge, Marsilio Ficino. Of this man it is necessary to say something, not only because of his part in forming the opinions and character of Lorenzo, but also on account of his place in the great intellectual move- ment of those times. * L. V. c. 3. t Von Kernnont has, however, shown that Piero was not so contemptible as he has been represented. He was an affectionate parent and friend, and a gentle and merciful ruler, — Life of Lorenzo^ bk. ii. eh. 4. 9a SAVONAROLA. The great schoolmen of the Middle Ages had been almost entirely under the influence of Aristotle ; but the revived study of Plato in the East was speedily transferred to the West, and was the signal for fierce controversies between the adherents of the two .schools. Men like the elder Pico might attempt a reconciliation between them ; but history will have taught us the fruitlessness of such attempts, and will enable us to understand that the champions of orthodoxy, with S. Thomas at their head, were generally. Aristotelians, while the followers of Plato were frequently tainted with latitudinarianism or even heresy. It was the intention and chief en- deavour of Ficino, not merely to teach the Pla- tonic philosophy, but to show its accordance with Christianity. His thoughts on the subject will be better conveyed by a slight description of a short treatise which he wrote. On the Christian Religion.^' He sets forth with the intention of proving the Divine mission of Christ, and the truth of His doctrine ; and, by way of introducing this theme, he remarks that the coming of Christ had been many times prophesied by the Sibyls — the famous verses of Virgil are known to all. Plato, when he was asked how long the precepts of his philosophy would endure, had replied, "Only until He shall come Who shall open the fountain of all truth;" and Porphyry had said that the gods pronounced Christ supremely pious and religious, and declared that He was immortal, testifying very benignantly * Delia religione Cristiana (Fiorenza, 1568) cf. Villari, i. 4. FLORENCE AND THE MEDICI. of Him (moUo henignamente testificando di lui). It would not, perhaps, be quite fair to judge of the author's own most inward sentiments from argu- ments such as these, as it may be answered that he was here only addressing himself to Platonists, and commending to their acceptance the religion of Christ ; but it is, in fact, much nearer the truth to say that he cared more for Platonism than for Christianity, and sought to find disciples for his master by conciliating those who from the side of the Church looked upon his system with suspicion. We can understand, when we reflect on tendencies like these, how Savonarola revolted from this Platonism, and turned with ever-deepening affec- tion and reverence to his Bible. He saw clearly that the aim of the great promoters of the new learning in Florence was not to strengthen, or even to broaden the Christian doctrine and system, but to undermine it. They Platonized the Gospel, and they professed to Christianize Platonism; but the result was simply a refined heathenism, adorned with Christian phrases, and sent forth with a Christian sanction. Among the hearers of Ficino were Angelo Poli- ziano and the elder Pico, as well as Lorenzo. The friendship between Ficino and Cosimo was of the most intimate character. " Come to me as quickly as possible," writes the latter from his villa at Careggi, "and bring with you our Plato's treatise , on the Summum Bonum. which vou have now trans- lated, I believe, according to your promise, from I. H 98 SAVONAEOLA. Greek into Latin." " Nobody," says Ficino, " was ever dearer to me than the great Cosimo;" and, writing to Lorenzo, after his father's death, he says, " When we had thus read together, as you well know, for you were present, Plato's treatise on the Summum Bonum, Cosimo died soon after, as if to enter on the abundant possession of that good of which he had tasted , in discussion." * It is the same spirit of paganism which pervades all his thoughts and his life. He had a bust of Plato in his chamber, and a lamp continually burning before it. He considered that the character of Socrates was a foreshadowing of that of Christ, and wished that the Platonic philosophy were taught in churches. This is the man and these are the principles under the influence of which Lorenzo grew up to manhood. The work of suppressing and exterminating the enemies of his house had been so thoroughly carried out by Cosimo that, in spite of the feeble govern- ment of Piero, and the youth of his two sons — Lorenzo was only one and twenty, and Giuliano only sixteen, at the time of their father's death, — they succeeded at once to the authority of their family in the government of Florence and the administration of its affairs. It is to Lorenzo that we are now to look as the guiding spirit in the republic; and we cannot understand the attitude assumed towards him by Savonarola, unless we first obtain a fairly clear notion of his character and designs. Few can be unaware that opinions on this * Cf. Harford's Life of Michael Angela, ch. iv. FLORENCE AND THE MEDICI. 99 subject the most diverse have been, and perhaps still are, entertained by different writers on this period of history. According to Eoscoe and writers of his school, Lorenzo, if not faultless, was at least a great, an enlightened, and a benignant ruler, the patron of literature and art, and the benefactor of the republic. Such a man could be opposed only by the factious, the turbulent, or the selfish. Ac- •ording to others, he was a crafty tyrant, seeking by every means, however unscrupulous, to gain power and popularity ; preserving the appearance of liberty *o Florence only that he might the more effectually enslave it; pampering every evil appetite of its citizens that he might secure their support, and destroy their power of resistance. Either side must have something to say for itself; and if the wor- shippers of Lorenzo are absurd and irrational in their idolatry, it is possible that his enemies do not take sufficient account of the corruption of the age in which he lived. It may be granted on behalf of the former that Lorenzo did much for Florence and its people; but it is equally certain that he made no stand against the evils which were slowly bringing the city to ruin ; that he probably cared little for the deterioration which was going on around him ; and that he used it for his own purposes. The more convincing are the proofs of his abilities and accomplishments, the more heavy must be his condemnation for having failed to use them for the true well-being of Florence. There can be no doubt that Lorenzo the Magnifi- 100 SAVONAROLA. cent was a man of varied accomplishments and of considerable attractiveness of manner. In stature he .was above the middle size, and he was strongly- built and robust. He had a dark complexion, weak sight, a harsh and nasal voice, a large mouth, and a nose which, like that of his great contemporary- Michael Angelo, had suffered an injury which dis- figured it. For this reason, perhaps, he had lost all sense of smell. But his eye was bright and penetrating, his forehead lofty, and his manners peculiarly cultivated and graceful. In conversation he showed himself well-informed, ingenious, and vivacious; and he exercised a remarkable fascina- tion over all who were admitted to intimacy with him. The effects of his eloquence on public audi- tories were on several occasions very considerable. In morals he was the reflection of his own age ; to the pleasures which he encouraged among the Floren- tines he was, in no moderate degree, himself addicted. There was, indeed, in the social life of Florence at this time, a very remarkable combination of characteristics. If literature had degenerated, the age could still produce writers like Machiavelli and Guicciardini ; but painting had entered upon a new and its greatest era, and architecture was asserting a place beside the sister art. With all this, morality had sunk to its lowest ebb. It had become a subject for animated discussion and controversy ; but it had ceased to be regarded as having a right to regulate men's lives. It was not that the principles of the Christian faith, or its rules of life, were contradicted FLORENCE AND THE MEDICI. 101 or denied : they were simply ignored or refined away. If men did not deny the religion of the gospel, or express their doubts of its reality, it was because they were too indifferent as to the truth or falsehood of its claims. Lorenzo de' Medici was essentially a man of his age. In himself — in his own character and life — ho represented its contradictions, and he did his best to foster the worst side of the popular taste. His gracious manners did not proceed from a generous spirit: they were the result of training. He had inherited from his grandfather the politic sense which enabled him to discern what was most capti- vating to the mob ; and even his encouragement of learning did not proceed entirely from enthusiasm for the spread of knowledge and truth, but was rather a means of amusement or a measure of policy. The strange contrasts in Lorenzo's life are hardly intelligible to ourselves. He was equally at home in the Platonic assembly, disputing on the nature of virtue ; in the society of artists, discussing the theory of beauty and its exemplification in the creations of the Italian painters and sculptors; in the gardens of San Marco, contemplating with satisfaction his own work in advancing at once the fine arts and the interests of religion; and in the Carnival, joining in the wildest orgies of its votaries. If testimony seem insufficient to verify the last statement, there is additional confirmation in his encouragement of this festival, and in his actually having written songs to be used in its celebra- 102 SAVONAEOLA. tion. Of these celebrated songs for the Carnival (Canti Carnascialeschi), which were an invention of his own, and which were sung by the young nobles in their masquerades throughout the city, we need only say that they are so coarse and obscene that they could not now be read, in any society, with- out being regarded as an offence against ordinary decency. It is difficult to say whether he did more mischief by the destruction of liberty or by the encouragement of immorality. " It is impossible," says Sismondi, " to place him in the rank of the greatest men of whom Italy boasts. Such honour is reserved for those who, superior to personal interests, secure by the labour of their life the peace, the glory, or the liberty of their country. Lorenzo, on the contrary, habitually pursued a selfish policy: he sustained by bloody executions an usurped power ; he every day added to the weight of a yoke detested by a free city ; he deprived the legitimate magistrates of the authority assigned to them by the constitution ; and he ex- cluded his fellow-citizens from that political career, in which, before his time, they had developed so much talent. We shall see," he adds, " in the sequel of this history, the fatal consequences of his ambition, and of the overthrow of the national institutions." * In this extract there is an allusion to the sacrifice of human life on the part of Lorenzo ; and there is one instance of this kind of cruelty which must not be left unnoticed, on account of its connection with * Repuh. Ital. vol. xi. p. 369. FLORENCE AND THE MEDICI. 103 our story. We refer to the sack of Volterra. This was one of the subject towns of Florence, which, in the year 1466, revolted in consequence of the rapacity of Lorenzo himself.* Many of the Floren- tines were inclined to try gentle measures, and would have extended pardon to the offenders ; but Lorenzo, then only eighteen years of age, in a spirit which reminds us of his grandfather's " better that the city should be wasted than lost," pronounced in favour of recovering and holding it by the sword. This decision, sufficiently criminal in itself, led to others even more so. The Venetians having secretly favoured the rebellion of Volterra, the work of subjugation became more difficult, and this again involved a considerable outlay of money. In order to meet the expense incurred, a sum of 100,000 florins was withdrawn from the Monte delle Dotif (Dowry Bank) — a fund instituted for providing por- tions for orphan girls at their marriage, — in conse- ijuence of which, numbers of girls, thus deprived of their dower, abandoned themselves to an evil life. Yet Lorenzo took credit for this act, as having saved the expedition, t During the siege of Volterra it was promised to the inhabitants that their lives and property should be respected on condition of their surrendering. In spite of this assurance, when the Florentine army entered the gates, the city was * Cf. Capponi, lib. v. c. 5. t Called also Monte delle Fanciulle. Monte was the word used in Florence for a bank.- + See his letter in Capponi. 104 SAVONAROLA. sacked, tlie cliiirclies plundered, the men taken prisoners, and the women ravished. There is reason to believe that these atrocities were perpetrated with the sanction of Lorenzo. The conspiracy of the Pazzi, already mentioned, will show that the tyranny of the Medici was not acquiesced in by all ; but that conspiracy was originated far more by personal envy and hatred than by motives of patriotism, and it was carried out in a manner the least likely to engage the sympathies of those who most deeply resented the tyranny under which the liberties of Florence were being destroyed. Its effect was, consequently and quite naturally, to confirm and strengthen the power of Lorenzo, who was regarded by his sycophants as a martyr, and who availed himself of the opportunity of putting down all opposition by procuring the death and banishment of his enemies. Four years after this conspiracy, Savonarola came to Florence. We have remarked on the state of the republic and of the Church which he found there; and we can understand with what feelings he regarded the family, and its living and ruling representative, through whose influence all that he most venerated was set at nought, all that he most detested was propagated and supported. It is important to bear these facts and considerations in mind while we follow the history of the man who began to feel that one great part of his mission in Florence must be to show a strong, continuous, and unyielding opposition to the policy of its virtual ruler, Lorenzo the Magnificent. ( 105 ) CHAPTEK VI. THE PRIOR OF S. MAEK's, AND LORENZO THE MAGNIFICENT. When Savonarola returned to Florence in 1490,* he was not unmindful of his failure as a preacher during his previous residence in the city, four years before ; and he had no desire again to encounter the cold indifference of his fellow-townsmen. He was accordingly reinstated in his office of Lettore, and resumed his work of instructing the novices of the convent. But the fame of his work in Lombardy had gone before him to Florence, and the admira- tion and affection conceived for him by Pico della Mirandola speedily became known. In order to meet the wishes of those who desired to have the advantage of his instmctions, he was forced to remove his lectures to the convent garden, where they were delivered under a rose-tree which * Kudelbach, Meier, and others give the date as 1489, following the custom of the time, which made the year begin on the 28th of 3Iarch. As a rule, the dates are given here as though the year began Jan. 1. 106 SAVONAROLA. grew near the door of a chapel. Although this garden is now separated from the convent by a narrow street, the rose-tree has been renewed from generation to generation by those who have venerated the memory of the teacher. This proved only a tem- porary arrangement. His expositions of the Apo- calypse attracted so many hearers that it was found necessary to remove into the convent church. Per- mission was granted by Domenico da Finario, the prior of the convent. After some reflection, Savo- narola announced one Saturday to his hearers that to-morrow he should begin to preach ; and it is said that he added, he should continue to preach for eight years, which actually happened. The change was greater than might appear. As a teacher or lecturer, Savonarola addressed himself to the understanding of his hearers, and instructed them in the meaning of the subject or book which was his theme. As a preacher, he spoke as the ambassador of Christ, and the servant of God, to the heart and conscience of men. In the pulpit he was not merely the teacher — he was the prophet. His first sermon was preached on the 1st of August — soon, therefore, after his return to Florence — and his success was assured from the beginning. The church was so crowded that the brothers had to st-and on the walls of the choir ; and the effect of the sermon was prodigious. Savonarola, referring to it afterwards, said it was a terrible sermon (tina prediea terrihile) ; and, from the account which he has left, we may learn that he had now, once and for ever, taken up that THE PRIOR OF S. IVIARK's, AND LORENZO. 107 great theme which was to be the uninterrupted subject of his teaching and warnings so long as he was permitted to preach. "On the 1st of August of this year," he says,* "on a Sunday, I began to explain publicly the Apocalypse in our church of S. Mark. Dui'ing the whole course of that year I continued to set forth to the Florentines these three propositions: 1. The Church of God must be renovated, and that in our time ; 2. Italy is to be scourged before this renovation ; 3. All these things will happen very soon. I endeavoured to demonstrate these three points to my hearers, and to persuade them by probable arguments, by allegories taken from Holy >Scripture, and by other similitudes or parables drawn from what was taking place in the Church. I insisted upon reasons of this kind, and I kept back the knowledge which God gave me of these things by other means, because men's minds did not seem to me at that time in a condition to understand those mysteries." The same account is given by Burlamacchi, v,'ho says that he began by proving his three propositions from reason and Scripture, not considering the people prepared to believe in the visions by means of which he had obtained this knowledge ; and afterwards, when he saw in his hearers a better disposition, he began to make known to them the revelations which he had received, but by way of parables and figuratively. * Compendio di JRevelatione. 108 SAVONAROLA. The impression which his preaching made upon all classes was deep and powerful. Naturally- enough, it was also diverse. Such ideas could not be promulgated without exciting opposition as well as attracting attention and interest. So it has been with all great teachers. Of the greatest of all teachers we read that " some said, He is a good man : others said, Nay ; but He deceiveth the people ; " * and the biographer of Savonarola tells us that, when he began his sermons at S. Mark's, some said he was " a simple and good man," while others said he was "learned, but most cunning." Friends and foes, men of the world, and philosophers, as well as earnest and simple-minded Christians, continued to crowd around the pulpit of S. Mark's, until it became evident that a larger arena must be found for his work and influence. Accordingly, when the Lent of the following year (1491) arrived, he was called to preach in the cathedral, and became at once the accepted teacher, the acknowledged spiritual power of Florence — a position which he retained, amid all the many wondrous vicissitudes of fortune and condition through which the great city was destined to pass, during the next seven years. There is no reason to believe that Savonarola ever wavered in his con- victions with regard to the main propositions which he had set himself to proclaim and enforce ; but it appears clearly that he was not at this moment prepared, at all hazards, to force them upon an un- * S. John vii. 12. THE PRIOR OF S. MARK'S, AND LORENZO. 109 willing audience.* Finding that, in certain quarters, a very determined opposition was arising to the subjects of his preaching, he "became at times pusillanimous, and made up his mind no longer to preach on these points," but to restrict himself to the general doctrines of morality and religion.f This course soon proved unpalatable and impos- sible. Everything which drew him away from these studies proved uninteresting and wearisome, and filled him with " disgust ; " so that he began to " hate himself." How could he preach with full conviction and power, when he was not speaking of the things of which his heart was full ? Thus to preach would have been to abandon his mission, to give up the special work which he felt called upon to perform. He seems to have done his very best to tread in the paths of ordinary preachers; but he failed in this attempt. He had resolved on one occasion that he would not preach on the subject of the future history of the Church and of Italy ; but on the Saturday preceding he found he could think of nothing else. " Grod is my witness," he says, " that during the whole of Saturday and through the whole night antil the morning, I lay awake, and every other way, every doctrine except that, was taken from me. At * This we learn from Burlamacchi and from his own Compendia di Uevelatione. t According to Villari, this change in his method was brought about, in part, by remonstrances from Lorenzo de' Medici and others. As this eminent writer has cited no authorities for chang- ing the ordinarily received order of these events, I ha^ e preferred to folio Ay that given by Burlamacchi. 110 SAVONAROLA. daybreak, wearied and depressed by this long vigil, I heard, whilst I was praying, a voice which said to me : * Fool, dost thou not see that God wills thee to follow the same way ? ' And so that day I delivered a tremendous sermon." * It was, says his biogra- pher, " a wonderful and stupendous sermon." From this time he seems to have struggled no more against his convictions — against those voices which were speaking in his heart, and which domi- nated all his thought and his action. It was no longer the teacher expounding the text of Scripture, and enforcing its precepts by the arguments of reason, and the testimonies of experience and history; it was the seer standing face to face with the in- visible world, looking away into the future, near or distant, and telling with passionate conviction all that he saw and heard in that sphere from which ordinary men were shut out. Nor did he confine himself to such general statements as were contained in his three famous propositions; he ventured to predict particular events. It was, apparently, at this time that he announced the near death of Pope Innocent, the coming descent of the French upon Italy, and the calamities which were about to befall the house of the Medici, and Lorenzo himself. In the July of 1491 the Prior of S. Mark's died, and Savonarola was elected to fill his place. It had become a custom in the convent for the new prior to go and do homage to the head of the house to which it was so deeply indebted ; but Savonarola * Compendium Bevelatiomim. THE PRIOR OF S. MARK'S, AND LORENZO. Ill saw in this a dangerous concession, which was at variance with his sense of independence as a priest. " I acknowledge my election," he said, " as the act of God, and to Him I will pay my homage." The remonstrances of the monks were of no avail. They were met by the simple question : " Is it God or Lorenzo who has made me prior ? " When " The Magnificent " heard of this refusal, he was greatly excited. "You see," he exclaimed, "a foreigner is come into my own house, and will not even con- descend to visit me." * However deeply Lorenzo may have resented this want of courtesy or deference on the part of the new prior, he was too skilled in the arts of government to manifest his resentment ; and he set himself to con- ciliate the man whom he was unable to command. Accordingly, he was often to be seen at mass in the convent church, and he further attempted to throw himself in the way of the Frate by coming and walking in the convent garden. On one occa- sion this happened while Savonarola was engaged in his studies ; and one of the brethren thought right to run and tell the prior that their benefactor was walking in the garden and probably expected to see him. "Has he asked for me?" inquired the prior. " No, but " " Very well, then, let him continue his walk as long as he pleases," was the reply. Li the eyes of a man who so loved liberty, and saw in it the only hope and possibility of raising * The theory of Perrens on the original cause of Savonarola's antipathy to Lorenzo has been examined in chapter iv. 112 SAVOXAROLA. Florence out of its wretched ungodliness, frivolity, and wickedness, the man who was enslaving it could be no object of admiration or complacency. To go out of his way to recognize Lorenzo further than strict duty demanded, would be, in his judgement, to make himself the accomplice of one whom he re- garded as encouraging all the worst evils by which the city was afflicted. Lorenzo was not to be discouraged. There might be other ways of conciliating a man who was be- coming a power too formidable to be ignored. He continued to send gifts to the convent, which were accepted and made over to the general funds of the society, without, however, producing any alteration in the manners or attitude of the prior. He was not ungrateful for them, but he estimated them at their true value. "The good dog," he said one day in his pulpit, " always barks in order to defend the master's house ; and if a thief comes and throws him a bone or anything else to put him off his guard, the good dog takes it, but at the same he also barks and bites the thief." Perhaps, thought Lorenzo, he dislikes the con- nection between the giver and the gifts being made so evident ; and he caused a considerable amount of gold to be deposited in the alms-box of S. Mark's Church. Savonarola knew too well where it came from ; and separating the smaller pieces of money placed in the chest, which, according to custom, he reserved for the needs of the convent, he sent the gold to the good men (biion' iiomini) of S. Martin, to THE PRIOR OF S. MARK'S, AND LORENZO. 113 be distributed among the poor of the city. And so, says Burlamacclii, Lorenzo came to see ^' that this was not the soil to plant vines in." It would appear, moreover, that Savonarola, so far from being conciliated by this conduct, did not cease to denounce the evil that was being wrought in Florence by the arts of the Medici. In spite of every advance made by Lorenzo, he went on re- proving the vices of the age, and threatening the great tribulations which he saw coming upon the earth. Whether he made direct allusion to the influence of the man in authority or not, his mean- ing was not obscure ; and Pico tells us that Lorenzo, hearing that Savonarola had inveighed against his tyrannical customs and ways {tijrannkos nsiis), attempted to conciliate him, while a number of citizens, " stirred up," says Burlamacchi, " by luke- warm religious, went and urged him not to go on preaching in that manner." At last Lorenzo sent to him five citizens of great authority to entreat him, as though they came of their own accord, that, " for the sake of the common good and peace of the city, and also for the good of the convent, he would adopt another style of preaching, and one more general, and .that he would not predict the future or refer to particular things beyond what was neces- sary." The names of the five are given by Burla- macchi, and it is possible that they were chosen by Lorenzo because they were known to be friendly to the Frate. If this were so, it would be another proof of his desire to win him by conciliatory I. I 114 SAVONAROLA. measures. Be this as it may, all the five were afterwards found among his followers. One name we may mention, as we shall hear again of him who bore it, and under circumstances of deep and painful interest, the name of Francesco Valori. When they came into the presence of Savonarola, they all but lost courage to speak, and made their appeal in a very feeble and half-hearted manner. They were received with great kindness by the Frate. He told them that he knew they were not speaking their own mind, but that of Lorenzo ; and he genth' rebuked them for thus allowing themselves to be the instruments of another. He bade them go and admonish Lorenzo to repent of his errors, as a calamity sent by God was now impending over him and his house. Again, it is said, three other men came to him on the same errand;* and he gave them these words for answer : " Tell Lorenzo from me, that he is a Florentine, and the first man in the city, and I am a foreigner, a poor mean friar. Nevertheless, tell him, that it is he who is to depart, and I who am to remain: he will go, but I shall stay." Not knowing what to reply, they departed, and delivered their message. Lorenzo, it is said, remembered the warning in the solemn hour which was then drawing near. Kesolving not to be baffled, he attempted other means of dealing with the unapproachable friar. If he could not win him to his side, he might, perhaps, * Pico says he had heard that these came of their own accord. THE PRIOR OF S. MARK'S, AND LORENZO. 115 destroy his popularity and influence among the people. For this purpose he stirred up his old rival, the Augustinian Fra Gennazzano, to resume his preaching. We remember the enormous popularity achieved by this preacher at the time that Savo- narola was attempting to gain the ear of his five and twenty listeners in the church of S. Lorenzo. He must have been, in some sense, a man of eminence, although, as Burlamacchi says, he was " more en- dowed with eloquence than with holy doctrine." Up to this time he had professed to rejoice in the success of Savonarola; but no sooner had he received from Lorenzo the hint to attack him, than he pre- pared to do so with all vehemence. On Ascension Day, 1492,* he preached in the chui'ch of San Gallo after vespers, and taking for his text the words of our Lord : " It is not for you to know the times or the seasons" (No?i est vestrum nosse tempora vel momenta), he made a most violent attack upon Savonarola; denouncing him as a false prophet, as a sower of sedition and disorder, and, in short, pro- ceeded to such lengths as to disgust his audience, so that in that one day he almost entirely lost the reputation which he had previously acquired, and many of his own friends fell away from him. Next Sunday Savonarola preached from the same text, showing that it was quite compatible with all that he had taught; so that the attempt of Lorenzo utterly failed, and left Savonarola more than ever master of the situation. * The date given : at present I am unable to see how thia can b© consistent with the time of the death of Lorenzo. 116 SAVONAROLA. Althougli Gennazzano discontinued his preaching, to which those who had now been arrested by the enthusiasm of his rival were little likely to give heed, he professed the greatest regard for Savo- narola, invited him to his convent, asked him to sing mass, and joined with him in the celebration, and exchanged all kinds of courtesies with him. This was, however, only a dissembling of his real feelings. It was not easy for a man, especially for a man of his character, who had been regarded as the greatest preacher of his time, to see the relative positions of himself and another so suddenly and utterly changed. It was not easy to forget the admiring crowds that had hung upon his lips in the Santo Spirito nine years ago, while the immature utterances of the Frate of San Marco were resound- ing within the almost empty walls of »San Lorenzo, and to see with patience that now, whilst he was neglected, all men had gone after that other. Hatred and the desire for revenge took possession of him. Shortly afterwards, going to Kome, he not only denounced his rival in private to the Pope, but publicly, in a sermon, declared him to be in league with the author of evil; or, as Burlamacchi puts it, he exclaimed: "'Burn, Holy Father, burn, I say, this instrument of the devil, this scandal of the whole GhurcTi : ' speaking openly of the Father Fra Girolamo." AVhen the Frate heard of it, he only expressed the hope that God would forgive him. It is creditable to Lorenzo that he should now THE PRIOR OF S. MARK's, AND LORENZO. 117 have abstained from any further attempts to inter- fere with. Savonarola. Such a course may have been dictated by that regard to policy which distinguished the more able members of his family ; and it is most likely that he had other thoughts suggested by the malady which, now increasing in strength, was before long to carry him off. But there can be no doubt that he had conceived a genuine admira- tion for this bold friar, who would not be deterred by threats or blandishments from speaking the words which he believed that God had put in his mouth, and who commended his message by the splendour of his genius and the unfeigned sanctity of his life. It is at least certain that, when Lorenzo felt the approach of the last enemy, he experienced an earnest desire to see the man whom, in his life, he had vainly striven to conciliate. As his sickness increased, he had retired to the villa at Careggi, built by Cosimo; and it became evident, early in April, that he had not long to live. For a time he was able to enjoy the society of his friends, and to receive the visits of some of the more distino'uished citizens of Florence. The better side of his character came out, as he was withdrawn from the temptations of the great city, and lost the power of gratifying his baser passions. Those who read only the hymns in which the undoubtedly religious character of his mind is expressed, would find it impossible to believe that he could be the writer of those Car- nival Songs of which we have already heard. Politian, who was constantly with him in these 118 SAVONAROLA. last days of his life, relates that he called his son Piero to him, and gave him solemn counsels as to his conduct as a citizen and as a possible ruler of Florence in the future. "Kemember," he said — how little the warning was remembered, we shall shortly be forced to tell — "remember, in every position to pursue that course of conduct which strict integrity prescribes, and to consult the interests of the whole community, rather than the gratification of a part." As the end drew near, he expressed a wish to see Savonarola, " because," he said, " I have never yet found a religious like him." * " Tell him," said Savonarola, when he received the request, " that I am not what he wants, because we shall not be in accord; and therefore it is not expedient that I come." " Go back to the prior," said the Magnifi- cent, " and tell him that at all events he must come, for I want to be in accord with him and do all that he shall tell me." It is generally known that there are two accounts of this interview ; that of Politian, who was present at the time, and that given by the younger Pico and Burlamacchi. Koscoe, unable to see any good in the priest who would not be the mere tool of the destroyers of Florentine liberty, and hardly any evil in Lorenzo the Magnificent, treats the latter account as improbable and untrue; al- though, if he had considered the matter more maturely, he would have found the story told by the friends and biographers of Savonarola much * Burlamacchi, p. 37. THE PRIOR OF S. MARK's, AND LORENZO. 119 more illustrative of the haughtiness which he ascribes to him, than the narrative of Politiau which he adopts. It may be possible to show that the contradiction between the two accounts is not so great as it would at first sight appear. Here is Eoscoe's version of the interview. " This interview [between Lorenzo a.nd the elder Pico] was scarcely terminated, when a visitor of a very dif- ferent character arrived. This was the haughty and enthusiastic Savonarola, who probably thought that in the last moments of asritation and of sufferins: he might be enabled to collect materials for his factious purposes. Witli apparent charity and kind- ness, the priest exhorted Lorenzo to remain firm in the Catholic faith ; to which Lorenzo professed his strict adherence. He then required an avowal of his intention, in case of recovery, to live a virtuous and well-regulated life ; to this Lorenzo also signified his sincere assent. Lastly, he reminded him that, if needful, he ought to bear his death with fortitude. ' With cheerfulness,' replied Lorenzo, * if such be the will of Grod.' On his quitting the room, Lorenzo called him back, and, as an unequivocal mark that he harboured no resentment asfainst him for the injuries which he had received, requested the priest would bestow upon him his benediction ; with which he instantly complied, Lorenzo making the usual responses with a firm and collected voice." The animus of this statement is evident;* but * Compare Eoscoe's report with Politian's own language: ■"Scarcely had Pico left when Hieronymus of Ferrara entered 120 SAVONAROLA. it is with the facts alone that we have now to deal. Roscoe refers, in a note, to a different account of the in- terview given by Pico, which is " deserving of notice," he says, "only by the necessity of its refutation." The account of which he speaks is given by Bur- lamacchi as well as by Pico,* with different degrees of detail. We shall reproduce it here, and consider briefly its internal probability and its consistency with the story given by Politian. According to the friends and contemporaries of Savonarola, it was at Lorenzo's earnest request that he came to see him. The dying man said he had three sins to confess, for which he asked absolution : the sack of Volterra, the money taken from the Monte delle Fanciulle, and the blood shed in punishing those who were impli- cated in the Pazzi conspiracy. While speaking of these things he became greatly agitated, and Savo- narola, to calm him, kept on repeating : " God is good, God is merciful ; but," he went on, " you must do three things." " What are they, father ? " asked Lorenzo. The countenance of Savonarola became grave as, extending the fingers of his right hand, he replied : " First, you must have a great and living faith in the mercy of God." " In that I have the greatest faith." "Secondly, you must restore all that you have wrongly taken away, or instruct the chamber, a man distinguished for his learning and holiness, an eminent preacher of heavenly doctrine {insignis et doctrina et sanctirnonia vir, ccelestisque doctrine inxdicator egregius)." And Roscoe professes to reproduce the testimony of Politian ! * Also by Barsanti, Razzi, and other authorities of no less credibility. THE PRIOR OF S. MARK'S, AND LORENZO. 121 your sons to make restitution for you." For a moment this demand seemed greatly to distress Lorenzo ; but, at last, making an effort, lie signified Kis assent by the inclination of his head. The third requirement was yet to be made. Savonarola became still more solemn in manner, and seemed to increase in stature as with terrible earnestness he continued: "Lastly, you must restore liberty to your native country, as it was in the early days of the republic of Florence." It was touching the root of the man's family pride and ambition. Sum- moning his remaining strength, he angrily turned his back upon the friar, and refused to utter another word. Savonarola departed without pronouncing- absolution, and Lorenzo died soon afterwards, on the same day, April 8th, 1492. By those who deny the accuracy, even the general credibility of this account, it is assumed that Politian was present during the whole of the interview, and heard all that passed between the confessor and his penitent. Neither assumption can be sustained. Politian himself, in his letter which describes the last day of Lorenzo's life, states that he several times went into an adjoining chamber, and Razzi asserts expressly that, during the inter- view, "the others left the room." Besides, is it probable that even the dearest friends of the dying man would be permitted to hear, or would desire to hear, the last words which he spoke in confession to a priest? There is indeed a certain agreement between the two narratives, and Politian's report SAVONAROLA. may refer to the first words which passed between the two men. It is customary, at the beginning of a confession, to ask and obtain the priest's blessing ; and so much may have been seen before the others quitted the chamber. And this is all that Politian says. Of the ^dthholding of the absolution he may have seen and known nothing. If he knew of it, as the devoted friend of Lorenzo, he would have been little likely to record it. Perrens, indeed, goes so far as to deny the inter- nal probability of the story of the biographers. He says that the demand for the restoration of the liberties of Florence is a mere anticipation of the course of conduct which was afterwards pursued by Savonarola in the revolutionary times which were soon to follow. This objection may safely be left to the judgement of those who are acquainted with the whole history of the period. In the very height of the revolution, Savonarola never professed to be in theory a republican. He preferred the monarchi- cal form of government, where it was possible ; and before the death of Lorenzo, it is agreed by all, he denounced his influence as destructive alike of the liberties of the State and of public morality. Even in the minutest details, the account of Savonarola's friends is the more probable. Was it likely that he who had refused to have intercourse with " The Magnificent " when he was lord of Florence, would have almost forced himself upon him when he was at the point of death ? The death of Lorenzo de' Medici was an event THE PRIOK OF S. MAEK's, AND LORENZO. 123 fruitful in consequences to his own family, to Savo- narola, and to the State of Florence. Had he lived to the natural life of man — he was only forty-four years of age when he died — how different might have been the future historv of the republic and of Italy ! In the same year, July 25th, Pope Innocent VIII. died, and was succeeded by Alexander YI. Events are thickening, and we can with difficulty realize the fact that the wonderful chansres which have now to be related should have taken place within a period of time so limited. 124 SAVONAROLA. CHAPTER YII. THE PREACHER AND PIERO DE' MEDICI. The reputation of Savonarola was never at a higher pitch than in the first days of the administration of Piero de' Medici. All the attempts of Lorenzo had failed to silence, to intimidate, or to conciliate the man who felt that he was sent by God, and did not owe his position, as priest or as prior, to human authority. He had even made a conquest of the potentate who had thought to be his master, as he was the master of Florence. The dying Lorenzo had sought counsel in his last moments of the Prior of S. Mark's, the terrible preacher of Santa Maria del Fiore. If he could thus influence the greatest among them, whose word had been as law to the whole people, how could he be any longer resisted ? But these were only the effects of the real and mighty inward power which dwelt in the heart of the man himself, and which made itself felt in his every word and deed and gesture. The saintliness of his life was known to all by the testimony of his brethren, and by many infallible proofs. The clear- THE PREACHER AND PIERO DE' MEDICI. 125 ness of his spiritual perceptions gave to his utter- ances a distinctness and a certainty which coukl not be mistaken, and which produced instant conviction. The singleness of his aims, the high unworldliness of his designs, the strength of his will, the capacious- ness of his intellect, all combined to make him well- nigh irresistible. He was universally recognized at this time as the great spiritual power in Florence, even as some years after he became, in fact and almost in name, the ruler of the republic. Savonarola's biographers seem to feel, rather than to say, that here was a new starting-point in his marvellous career ; for his history is the history of Florence. They pause at this crisis to speak of the man himself ; of his power as a preacher, of his character, deportment, life. "This great father," says Burlamacchi, "was endowed with infinite and most rare virtues. He was benignant and pleasant with all, humble and gentle with every one of the novices, and universally affable in conversation. The familiarity of his manner produced joy and gladness in others; and those who once came to know him had the greatest desire and avidity for his company; and when he spoke of spiritual things, no one was able to withdraw from his presence." To this he added a marvellous power of divining what was passing in the minds of others, as well as of influencing their opinions and judgements. On a certain occasion he discerned in one of the novices a desire to abandon the religious life. A glance from the prior told the halting youth that 126 SAVONAROLA. his thoughts were being interpreted, and decided him to abide in his vocation. The testimony of Pico is entirely to the same eftect. He was ever accessible even to his enemies, and he was of wonderful placability. Pico says it was " native ; " but we may be permitted to doubt this, and to ascribe his meekness and gentleness to a source higher than nature. He was never known to utter a harsh or rough rebuke, or to raise his voice in anger, or to show a trace of passion on his countenance, however much he might be provoked. He was fervent in the denunciation and eradication of vices ; but in his public admonitions it was by gentleness of speech, by simplicity of language, rather than by vehemence or exaggeration of ex- pression, that he sought to carry conviction to his hearers. His manner of life was in keeping with the un- worldliness of his mind. He partook of the com- monest food, and ate the coarsest bread that he could obtain. If a finer quality were placed before him, he would change it, and give it to some old and feeble person. He was most sparing in food and drink; and from this rule he never departed, except when he was showing hospitality — a duty which he never neglected, although he had almost lost all taste for it himseK. His dress was as plain as his diet; but, although coarse, it was always scrupulously clean. He was fond of repeating the words of S. Bernard:"^ "That he liked poverty, but not dirt." * Paiipertatem sihi placere, non sordes. THE PREACHER AND PIERO DE' MEDICI. 127 For nothing was lie more remarkable than for his deep, earnest, and constant habits of devotion. He was indeed one of those who " pray without ceasing." If he lay awake at night, he spent every moment in prayer and holy meditation. Some of the stories related of him, in connection with this habit, border upon the miraculous. On a certain Christmas Eve, we are told, when lauds were being sung in the church, his body remained perfectly motionless for five hours, and " so entirely were his thoughts and affections absorbed in God by the presence of the Holy Spirit, that his face emitted a strong light. When the divine office was completed, those who returned to the church testified that even after they had extinguished the lamps, the face of Girolamo shone in the darkness and seemed to light up the choir of the church." Doubtless, imagination had some part in producing these impressions; but the candid reader will confess the existence of some extraordinary depth of devotion in the man who could so powerfully influence his contemporaries. Fra Silvestro, his most intimate friend among the brethren, declared that more than once he had seen the figure of a dove hovering over his head. Yet the devotional and contemplative character of his life did not destroy its practical side, or lead him to dispense with the labour of study. His own native tendencies were towards philosophical speculation. We have seen that he regarded these tendencies with suspicion, fearing lest they should divert him from the true business of the religious 128 SAVONAROLA. life. Yet he did not allow himself to be driven into the opposite fanatical extreme of despising reading and study. He laboured as well as prayed. With him also work was worship, even as worship was w^ork. He often quoted the saying of S. Francis of Assisi, that a man's knowledge was in proportion to his work, that " a man knows as much as he works." * That such a man, filled with an overwhelming sense of his divine calling to speak forth the word of truth in an age which had almost forgotten God, should prove "mighty in word and deed," was a simple necessity of the case ; and so we are told his preaching was almost miraculous, " for the rapidity of his utterance, the sublimity and greatness of the things discoursed upon, and the elegance of his words and sentences were equally wonderful. His voice was clear and sonorous, his countenance animated and impassioned, and his gesture graceful and im- pressive." These testimonies, his enemies allege, are those of his friends and admirers. The objection reminds us of the well-known theory which professes to explain the spread of Mahometanism. The false prophet, it is said, propagated his religion by the sword. The retort is just : How did he get his sword ? In the case of Savonarola, the power which he exercised is indisputable. To reject the testimony given to his character and work is to admit the effect and deny the only reasonable explanation of the cause. * Tanto sa ciascuno quanta opera. THE PREACHER AND PIERO DE' MEDICI. 129 The preaching of Savonarola was intensely biblical. We have seen how he ever, more and more, turned to the Holy Scriptures, as his favourite iind supreme subject of study. Nearly all his sermons started from the exposition of a passage drawn from the Bible. To us many of his explana- tions must seem far-fetched and fanciful ; but it was the manner of his day, and he adopted it on principle. His peculiarities, as we should deem them, did not however consist in forcing the Bible to prove that which it did not contain ; but rather in finding the recoo^nized doctrines of the Chui'ch in texts which, to ordinary minds, seem to have nothing whatever to do with them. But whether he was a trustworthy interpreter or not, he was always a true and earnest preacher, speaking to the intelligence, the heart, the conscience. The words which he spoke were spirit and life and power. "Whatever art and skill as an orator he possessed came from within, not from without. He was singularly desti- tute of what might be called rhetorical culture ; and this explains the failure of his first efforts. The great and burning thoughts within him were labour- ing in vain for articulate expression. It was only as he saw more clearly the evils which he was called to denounce, and the only remedy which could be suc- cessfully applied, that the clearness of his percep- tions came to be expressed in his language ; and this grew to be well ordered by reason of his severely trained intellect, and again was set on fire by his deep conviction, his ardent zeal, and his I. K 180 SAVONAROLA. fervent love for God and man. Guicciardini, no mean judge, says that, after having read and studied the sermons of Savonarola, he found them most eloquent, and of an eloquence that was natural and not artificial. He adds that for ages there had not been seen a man so learned in the sacred writings ; and that, whilst no one ever succeeded in preaching at Florence more than two Lents without wearying his hearers, Savonarola was able to do so for many y^'ars, ever rising higher in the estimation of the people. Those who study his sermons most carefully will understand this criticism, and they will perceive something of the secret of his mighty power ; the power itself, however, is a simple fact of history. The popularity of Savonarola went on increasing ; and he was more and more regarded, not only as the denouncer of all the frightful evils of the age, but as the steady and unflinching opponent of the enslavers of Florence, the Medici. He had predicted the death of Lorenzo, and his prediction had speedily been fulfilled ; also of Innocent VIII., and he had died in the same year as the Magnificent. When Alexander YI. ascended the papal throne, if the need of renovation became more evident, the pros- pect grew more remote. Nothing short of some special divine intervention seemed caj)able of bring- ing about the wished-for change. As the power of Savonarola went on increasing, and his influence was more evidently than ever lending itself to defeat the measures of the ruling family, it was natural and inevitable that he should THE PEEACHER AND PIERO DE' MEDICI. 131 jDrovoke the determined enmity of the Medicean party; and this opposition was strengthened by the accession of those who envied the Frate his success, and perhaps even more by the numerous body of ecclesiastics whose sensual and worklly mode of life he denounced with peculiar energy. Malignant men, " under the instigation of the evil one," lost no opportunity of persecuting him ; and among these, " the most bitter were the men of the most abandoned lives, and especially those prelates of the Church whose disgraceful lives were corrupt- ing the whole world." Brooding on these things — meditating upon the terrible evils of the age, and on his own powerlessness to check them, the Frate looked ever more for divine guidance and illumination ; expecting to learn from visions the will of God and the future of the Church, as he believed he had done in the past. The vision did not tarry. In the very year which had witnessed the death of the master of Florence, and of the head of the Church (1492), while he was preaching the Advent sermons, he had a vision or dream which he did not hesitate to regard as a divine revelation. In the midst of heaven he beheld a hand grasping a sword, under which the words were written : Gladius Domini super terram cito et velociter (" The sword of the Lord upon the earth quickly and swiftly "). At the same time he heard a multitude of voices clearly and distinctly promising mercy to the good, and threatening punishment to the wicked, and proclaim- ing that the wrath of God was nigh. Great thun- 182 SAVONAKOLA. derings were heard from heaven, weapons and fire seemed to fall from the skies, and the whole earth became a prey to wars and pestilences and famines. As the vision disappeared, Savonarola received the command to announce these chastisements, to teach men the fear of God, to bid them pray to the Lord to send good pastors to the Church, and finally to have a special care for troubled souls. This vision became a leading subject of his preaching and teaching — we might almost say, for a considerable time its very centre — and was represented in numer- ous pictures and medals of the period. It was not to be expected that Piero de' Medici should look upon these doings with indifference. Indeed, as the matter would present itself to his mind, it must have seemed to be now the question whether he or Savonarola should rule Florence. His father, when he found that he could not control the speech and action of the Frate, had left him alone. He was wise enough, in all things, to remain con- tented with the possession of the substance of power, and to dispense with the form and appearance of it when it was inexpedient to contend for it. It was for this reason that he had wisely preserved all the ancient forms of the government of the republic, while he was in fact supreme. Piero was a man of a totally different spirit. He had all the ambition and love of power which characterized Cosimo and Lorenzo ; but he was entirely destitute of their policy Indeed, he was in most ways a striking contrast to his father, in appearance as well as in character. He THE PREACHER AND PIERO DE' MEDICI. 133 was a man of a handsome and attractive person, and his intellectual abilities were of no mean order. Politian speaks of him as being beloved by the citizens ; " a man not less eminent for his own glory than for that of his family ; combining the talents of his father, the virtues and great kindliness of his imcle, the probity of his grandfather, the prudence and piety of his great-grandfather ; in short, the heart and head of all his noble ancestors." If this description were to be taken literally, we should be forced to conclude that Piero made a miserable use of his advantages. He had, however, considerable abilities. His memory was remarkably retentive ; he had a ready wit, and improvised verses with the greatest ease, and showed himself a friend and patron of literature. Bat he knew too little of the spirit of the people of Florence, and forgot that, while they might part with the substance of liberty, they were attached to the form. Piero had all the haughtiness of the Orsini, his mother's family, and was rude and rough in his manners ; in this respect presenting a striking and unpleasing contrast to his father. Sometimes he would break into violent fits of passion at the slightest opposition, and make it too evident that, in carrying out his own wishes, he had little regard for those of others. Such conduct was more offensive to the Florentines than an open violation of their laws. Lorenzo had besought his son to remember that, whatever his power and influence might be, he was " only a citizen of Florence." This had never been forgotten by 184 SAVONAROLA. Cosimo, Fater Fatrise, nor by Lorenzo himself ; and the citizens were flattered by the thought that the greatest among them was still one of themselves. For such feelings Piero entertained and exhibited no respect. The appearances of liberty which his father had carefully preserved, even while he was undermining the reality, the son proceeded deliber- ately to destroy. The widest disaffection began to spring up throughout the whole State. The leaders of the people, who had willingly followed Lorenzo, now secretly or openly fell away from his son ; and a party, continually increasing in numbers and in- fluence, was being formed against him. Savonarola, unintentionally, perhaps unconsciously to himself, was regarded, if not as the head, yet as the heart of this party ; and he was looked upon by Piero as his most dangerous adversary. It was in the midst of these growing antagonisms that the crowds at the cathedral first heard the terrible announcement of the Sword of the Lord coming speedily and swiftly upon Italy. Piero could not be expected to look on with equanimity while the discontent of the people was finding expression in the first pulpit of Florence, and gathering strength from the warnings which were there proclaimed. He saw that in the Prior of S. Marco lay the greatest danger for himself and his authority. But he had neither the prudence nor the self-control of Lorenzo. The Magnificent, when he could neither repress nor conciliate the preacher, would have allowed the movement which THE PREACHER AND PIERO DE' MEDICI. 135 he guided to spend its force — would have temporized where he could not command. Piero was too im- patient and imperious to submit to such delay. He could not silence the preacher or withdraw the people from listening to him ; and therefore he used his influence with his superiors in Eome and Milan, to have him removed for a season from Florence. This measure filled the brethren with grief and dis- may. The prior alone was calm, resigned, hopeful. He was grateful for their affection, he told them ; but, he said, " if you are too much cast down, if you begin to think that you cannot live without me, your love is yet imperfect, and therefore God has taken me from you for a season." This was in the beginning of 1493, and the same year we find him preaching the Lent sermons at Bologna. The Bentivogiio family were still possessed of supreme authority in Bologna. He found himself hampered by the circumstances of the city, and lost much of the power and fervour which had marked his sermons at Florence. They called him a *^ simple man and a ladies' preacher." Still his fame drew multitudes to hear him ; and among the congrega- tion there appeared the wife of Bentivogiio. This lady habitually came late into the church, bringing with her a large retinue of attendants, who greatly interrupted the preacher and disturbed the people. Savonarola was unwilling to take needlessly offensive measures to abate this nuisance ; so, at the beginning of the interruptions, he contented himself with merely finishing his sermon, or rather, Avith leaving 136 SAVONAROLA. off preaching. This tacit reproof proved insufficient. Then he would pause in his sermon, and remark on the impropriety of disturbing the faithful during their religious exercises. This indirect rebuke only- inflamed the anger of the lady. She continued to come late, and every day with more noise, as if in contempt of his remonstrances. At last it became intolerable. One morning, while he was preaching with great energy and fervour, the usual interrup- tion occurred. Then his indignation broke forth. "Behold," he exclaimed, "how the devil comes to interrupt the word of God." The proud wife of Bentivoglio in a rage gave orders to her followers to despatch the insolent preacher in the pulpit; but even they shrank from the commission of such a crime. The delay brought her no better thoughts. She ordered two of her servants to find him out in his cell, and inflict some grievous injury upon him. Savonarola encountered them with such calmness and dignity, and spoke to them with such an air of authority, that they listened respectfully and departed in confusion. Happily, it was near the end of Lent, and he had soon to depart from Bologna. He would not have it supposed that the servant of God was driven from his place by fears for his per- sonal safety. His parting words from the pulpit declared his unwavering confidence in. God and in his mission. " This evening," he said, " I shall take my way to Florence with my staff and my wooden flask, and I shall lodge at Pianoro. If any one has business with me, let him come to me before I leave. THE PEEACHER AND PIERO DE' MEDICI. 137 Know, however, that my death will not take place at Bolo2:na." Florence was now ever his first and deepest thought. Even during the time of his anxious work at Bologna, he never forgot his beloved brethren and sons of S. Marco. They were longing for his return, and he wrote to them frequently in a spirit of the most tender affection. Sometimes in general terms he exhorted them to keep themselves above and apart from this present world. Sometimes he would descend to the minute details of their daily life. Those who knew only the preacher, " mighty in the Scriptures," knew only half the man. It was in the words of loving wisdom which he spoke to his brethren that all his beautiful simplicity, all his tender love for the souls of men, all his deep devotion to the work of God, found most attractive expression. On his way back to Florence many thoughts occupied his mind respecting the state of the city,, the growing enmity against the Medici, the diffi- culties which beset his future work. Yillari thinks that the vision, which is related to have occurred on his former return to Florence, took place at this time. There is one circumstance in favour of this supposition. The words which his supernatural guide is said to have addressed to him, when he parted from him at the gate of San Gallo, vrould cer- tainly seem better suited to this crisis in his history. *' Remember," he said, as he vanished from his sight, "remember to do that for which thou art commissioned of God." That he who believed him- 138 SAVONAROLA. self to have peculiar intercourse with the invisible world should, at this period of his history, have had such a vision or dream, will seem quite reasonable. Be this as it may, it can hardly be doubted that it was with thoughts like these, and under the influ- ence of the emotions which they would excite, that he now returned to Florence. Grave events were coming near; and he had to prepare, as best he €oxild, to meet them in the strength of God. ( 139 ) CHAPTEK VIII. MONASTIC EEFOEM. We have already seen clearly that Savonarola hoped for a reformation of the clergy as a means towards the renovation of the Church. This was the very fountain of the evil, that the leaders of the blind were themselves blind. The bitter fountain could not give forth sweet waters. But the greatest evil, in the view of the ardent reformer, was the corrup- tion of the monasteries. The greatest and most bitter sorrow of his heart had been aroused by dis- covering that the vices of the outer world had penetrated into the very heart of the "religious life " in the convent. From the moment that he was appointed Prior of San Marco he had entertained the purpose of effect- ing that thorough reform which he saw to be of absolute necessity. Eemoved for a season from the daily care of the society whose head he was, he had probably more leisure to meditate on its general condition, circumstances, and needs. If the monks and friars were to be reformed — if he proclaimed the 140 SAVONAROLA. necessity of this reform, how could he abstain from the endeavour to begin this reformation at home? If anything were needed to deepen his convictions and strengthen his resolves, he found it in all that he heard of the city while he was absent from it, in all that he saw when he returned. In a sermon which he preached in the Advent of 1493, he speaks of the frightful corruption prevail- ing among the clergy. After giving one example of the evils which he deplores, he exclaims, "All the cities of Italy are full of these horrors. If you knew all that I know! things disgusting! things horrible ! you would shudder. When I think of all this — of the life which is led by the priests, I cannot restrain my tears. How do they protect their sheep? I will tell you in a word, without lacking respect for those who are good. The evil pastors have made themselves mere instruments for leading the sheep into the jaws of the wolf." Again he exclaims, " O prelates, 0 supports of the Church, look upon that priest who goes tricked out witli his finery and his perfumes. Go to his house, and you will find his table loaded with plate, like the tables of the great ; the rooms adorned with carpets, with hangings, with cushions. They have so many dogs, so many mules, so many horses, so many ornaments, so much silk, 80 many servants ! Can you believe that these fine gentlemen will open for you the Church of God ? Their cupidity is insatiable. Look ! in the churches everything is done for money. The bells are rung from covetousness; they resound only ^ money, bread. MONASTIC EEFORM. 141 and candles.' The priests go into the choir to get money ; to vespers, to the other oiBfices, because at these the money is distributed. See if they are at matins ! No ; because there is no distribution then. They sell benefices, they sell the sacraments, they sell the marriage-mass, they do everything from covetousness ! " There are some charges in the sermon which are too gross to be repeated here. Yet these charges were undoubtedly true, and it was needful that they should be publicly made by one who was resolved upon the work of reform. The difficulty in the way of effecting a thorough reform in his own convent arose in great measure from the fact that the Tuscan congregation of the Dominican order was united with the Lombard, and subject to the Father Provincial of Lombardy. In consequence of this state of things, it was possible for the enemies of Savonarola, at any time, by means of the authorities of Lombardy or of Rome to procure at least his temporary removal from Florence. It had not always been so. Previously to the great plague which had devastated Tuscany, the two con- gregations had been separate; and they had been united, in consequence of the desolation of the con- vents caused by that calamity, in the year 1448. Now that the numbers of the religious had greatly increased, there ought to be no difficulty in separating them again; and Savonarola set himself, with all ;his energies, to restore the independence of the Tuscan congregation. The Frate on this occasion showed that he was not only a great speaker, but an 142 SAVONAROLA. able doer ; as great in organization and administra- tion as in the power of influencing men by bis spoken words. By tbe vigour with which he took his measures he prevented opposition to his schema being organized by his enemies. It is indeed wonderful that Piero de' Medici should not have perceived that a most heavy blow was being aimed at his own authority, and that his great adversary was achieving an independence which was sure to be used against himself. It was only in this very year that Piero had used for his own purposes the power possessed by the Father Provincial, so as to have Savonarola removed during Lent to Bologna. It was another proof of his dissimilarity to his father that he allowed himself to be persuaded into sup- porting the request which Savonarola was now making. He went so far as to instruct the Floren- tine ambassador at Kome to give it his warmest support, and to solicit the influence of the Cardinal of Naples on the same side.* Savonarola was not contented with forwarding his petition and obtaining this powerful support to his cause. He immediately sent to Eome two of the members of the brother- hood of S. Mark, Fra Alessandro Kinuccini, a member of one of the principal families of Florence, and Fra Domenico da Pescia, his first disciple. This sincere and constant friend of Savonarola was * Villari has remarked that his advocacy of the cause of the Dominicans was the more astonishing, as he had always favoured their rivals, the Franciscans. He suggests that he may have been influenced by his dislike to the governor of Lombardy, Ludovico «IlMoro» MONASTIC EEFORM. 143 the most remarkable of all liis fellow-workers. Ardent and daring, he was a man of intense simpli- city, of deep and living faith, and of absolute and entire devotion to his superior. Of the divinity of his master's mission he never seems to have enter- tained even a momentary doubt. It was no easy matter to obtain their request. The Lombards, powerfully aided by Ludovico Sforza, made the most strenuous opposition to the separa- tion; so that the friends of Savonarola wrote and told him that they had no hope of succeeding. " Do not doubt," was his answer ; " be brave, and you will have the victory : ' the Lord . . . maketh the devices of the people to be of none effect, and casteth out the counsels of princes.'" And, in fact, the victory was obtained by what would be called a strange accident, which must have appeared nothing short of a providential interposition. It was obtained at a moment when hope was at its lowest ebb. On the 22nd of May, 1493, the Pope dismissed the Consistory, in consequence of fatigue, declaring that he would transact no more business on that day. The Cardinal of Naples alone remained with him ; and, believing that he had found a moment suitable for urging the claims of the Tuscans, brought forth the brief authorizing the separation, and entreated the Pope to confirm it. After some pleasantries and altercation on the subject, the Cardinal in play snatched the Pope's ring from his finger and sealed the brief. Hardly had this been accomplished when the most urgent re- 144 SAVONAROLA. monstrances arrived from the Lombards, entreating the Pope to refuse his consent to the measure. But the Pope had heard enough of the matter, and refused to reopen it. "That which is done, is done," he made answer ; and the Tuscan congregation was now independent of Lombardy. Even the entreaties of Piero himself, who began too late to perceive the mistake he had committed, were unavailing. The Pope's sanction had not come a moment too soon. The Father Provincial, foreseeing the possi- bility of defeat, had sent an order to Savonarola and his principal adherents to quit San Marco instantly, and to disperse themselves among certain other convents, subject to his jurisdiction, which he named. It was intended that these instructions should reach S. Mark's before the papal brief arrived; and, in that case, there would have been an end to all the prior's plans of reform. Again he was favoured by a happy circumstance, which was also naturally attributed to the interposition of Divine Providence. The order had been addressed to the Superior of the convent of Fiesole, to be communicated to those concerned. Through his absence from home, and the neglect of his represen- tatives, it did not reach S. Mark's for more than a week afterwards. It was then of no avail, as the deed of separation had arrived. It has been sug- gested that, even if it came in time, Savonarola may have delayed opening it, suspecting its contents. This is not impossible ; but it seems likely that it actually arrived after the papal brief. MONASTIC EEFORM. 145 It was now time to begin the work of reorganiza- tion and reform. Savonarola was at once elected anew as Prior of S. IMark's, and a number of con- vents asked to be admitted into the new congrega- tion. First among them was S. Domenico of Fiesole ; and this, after intervals shorter or longer, was followed by many others, some of them adhering spontaneously, others constrained by a little gentle pressure. To make the new congregation complete, the prior convoked a union of the various bodies, to arrange their rules and to elect a Superior. At this meeting he was unanimously chosen Vicar-General ; and he held this new dignity with his accustomed gentleness and humility to the end of his life. From what we have read of Savonarola's own character and habits, and of the indignation with which he spoke of the luxury and self-indulgence of the clergy, we are prepared to hear that this was the first object of his attack, and the first subject of reform. The Dominicans had been a mendicant order; but there seems to have been always some uncertainty as to the extent to which they might become possessed of property. Savonarola himself appears to have wavered on the subject ; but on one point he had no doubt whatever. He was convinced that the Church ought to possess no more than was actually necessary. We have seen how he acted on this conviction, even with respect to the giving of alms. It was not fitting that the profuse bounty of Lorenzo should be distributed by the members of his society ; he made it over to the Buon uomini I. L 146 SAVONAROLA. of San Martino. But there were great difficulties in giving full expression to his convictions with resj)ect to the Yow of Poverty, especially having regard to the past history of S. Mark's. At one time he had formed the plan of retiring to 1 solitary mountain with his brethren, and there living a life of solitude and poverty. He had even chosen Monte Cane, near Careggi, for that purpose ; but, however this scheme might have commended itself to his tastes, it was at once apparent that it must defeat all his larger designs for the renovation of the Church. It is said that he gave way to the remonstrances of the younger friars, and to objec- tions arising from the unhealthy character of the locality; but there were doubtless graver reasons for his change of purpose. Upon the walls of S. Mark's were written the last terrible words of S. Dominic, in which he denounced those who should introduce among his disciples the holding of property. " Have charity, preserve humility, possess voluntary poverty : may my malediction and that of God fall upon him who shall bring possessions into this order." The words still stood written upon the cloister walls ; but they had been disregarded since the days of Sant' Antonino. By a new rule, the convent had been declared capable of holding property ; and since that time had become very wealthy. Savonarola deter- mined to return to the original constitution. He began by selling all the property of the society, and thus cut off at once its too abundant supplies. ^rOXASTIC REFOEir. 147 Hence it became necessary, in other ways, to provide for their needs. As a first measure for reducing the expenditure, he required the friars to wear less costly clothing ; he made their cells simpler and less ornate ; he forbade them to possess illuminated books, gold and silver crucifixes, and the like. But his reforms on the positive side were no less important. He designed that they should live by the labours of their own hands, and so introduced the study of painting and sculpture, and the art of writing and illuminating manuscripts. These occupations were assigned to the lay brethren, and to those of the clerical brethren who were less advanced in the spiritual life ; while the cure of souls, the hearing of confessions, and preaching were reserved for the more advanced. He was peculiarly anxious to raise the standard of education in his convent ; and more particularly of the education that would fit the brethren for being able dispensers of the word of God. For this reason he made prominent three subjects of study : Theo- logy, dogmatic and controversial ; morals and the canons ; and especially the study of Holy Scripture. To these he added a subject which at the time was even less common, the study of Oriental languages. The difficulty of carrying out changes and reforms so sweeping, was greatly lessened by the conviction of the Superior's sincerity and earnestness, produced by his own manner of life. He imposed no restraints ■upon others which he had not for long willingly 148 SAVONAROLA. accepted himself; he prescribed no rules of life which he had not already more powerfully recom- mended by his own obedience; and for a time at least, it seemed that the whole convent had caught his enthusiasm and become partakers of his ascetic spirit. And this enthusiasm not only gave a power- ful stimulus to the studies, the labours, and the devotions of the friars ; it spread beyond the walls of the convent, until men of the noblest families of Florence came forward and prayed to be admitted into the number of the brethren. A w^hole convent offered to change its rules for those of S. Mark, and to become incorporated into the society presided over by Fra Girolamo. The terms of the papal brief had given no such authority to Savonarola ; and he declined their application, resolved to give no occasion to his enemies to bring charges against him of overstepping his own province and powers. Indeed, ho had difficulties enough with the houses belonging to his own order ; some of them disliking the separation from Lombardy, others probably shrinking from the more stringent discipline to which they were being subjected. His own labours were manifold. He was con- stantly consulted by those who needed guidance in their perplexities. He gave himself only four hours of sleep — so much time was of necessity consumed in the work of governing, in carrying on an extensive correspondence, in prayer and meditation, in the study of the Scriptures, in the preparation of his sermons. His life was the most simple of all ; and MONASTIC REFOEM. 149 he shrank from no occupation and from the per- formance of no duty or service in the convent, however menial, which he imposed upon others. Burlamacchi gives a striking account of the conventual life of this period at S. Mark's. " After dinner," he says, " they took a moment's repose ; then they gathered cheerfully around the father, who explained to them some passage of the divine Scrip- tures. Then they took a short walk, and reclined for a time in the shade while the father brought some passage from the sacred books before them, as a subject of meditation. Then he made them sing a hymn in honour of our Lord, or took from the lives of the saints a theme for discourse. Sometimes he would invite them to dance, and accompany them with his voice. ... In the evening they often chanted psalms and hymns with great fervour. They would attire a young novice so as to represent the child Jesus; and sitting around him, they would all give him their hearts, and ask some favour of him for themselves or others." He was a father in the midst of a loving and trusting family, or perhaps rather an elder brother whom all reverenced and loved. He lived among them as one who expected death to come to him suddenly and by violence ; but this never disturbed his serenity or cheerfulness. It was with something of increased dignity and authority that Savonarola returned to his work of preaching. He was no longer liable to be removed from his post at the will of the Lombard Provincial. He was now himself the head of the Tuscan congre- 150 SAVONAEOLA. gation, with a reputation for truthfulness, courage, and personal holiness which had been steadily increasing. But his theme was still the same : the ruin of the Church, the dissolute lives of the clergy, the corruption of the rulers in Church and State, the approaching scourge of God which was to chastise the evils of the age. It was soo^i after his conventual reforms, in the Advent of 1493,* that he preached his sermons on the psalm Quam tonus ('* Truly God is loving unto Israel," Ps. Ixxiii.), which are considered to be theo- logically the best of his discourses.f They are dis- tinguished by a more careful diction — probably they are better reported than some of his other courses, — by considerable argumentative force, and by the strongest assertion of the doctrine of divine grace. *• Let all paradise come here," he exclaims, " let the angels come, let the prophets and patriarchs come, let the martyrs come, let the doctors and all the saints come, one by one, that I may dispute with them: come all the elect of God, that I may dispute with you. Say the truth, ^Give glory to God,' — confess the truth, if you have the glory, if you are happy and blessed by your own merits and by your own strength, or by divine goodness. Come here, you especially who have been immersed in sins : tell me, Peter, tell me, 0 Magdalene, why are you in Paradise? You certainly sinned like * Villari has 1494, evidently a misprint. t They have been republished (Prato, 1846), together with his sermons on the first Epistle of S. John, and can still be bonght. MONASTIC EEFORM. 151 us. Thou, Peter, who didst confess the Son of God, who didst converse with Him, heardest Him preach, sawest His miracles, and more, who alone with two other disciples sawest Him transfigured upon Mount Tabor, and heardest the Father's voice ; and nevertheless, at the words of a mere woman, didst deny Him three times, and yet wast restored to grace and made head of the Church, and now possessest heavenly blessedness; whence hast thou obtained so great good ? Thou wilt say, perhaps, because thou didst return in heart — because thou didst begin to weep bitterly ? Yes, 0 Peter, thanks to the divine goodness which looked upon thee, as the Evangelist says : * the Lord turned and looked upon Peter ; and Peter went out and wept bitterly.' Thou didst not weep until the Lord looked upon thee ; thou didst not return in heart until the Lord touched thy heart. Confess then, Peter, that it is not by thy merits, but by the goodness of God, that thou hast obtained such blessings." Such language seems to have been understood by some of Savonarola's biographers, as indicating a tendency to Protestantism ; but this passage alone, with its reference to S. Peter, might show that he was in no respect at variance with the doctrines of the Church. There was, of course, a sense in which he was a forerunner of the Keformation, inasmuch as he strenuously opposed the tyranny and de- nounced the corruptions of the Papacy ; but there is no ground for supposing that he had any thought of protesting against the accepted teaching of his 152 SAVONAROLA. age. Kerker's language is liardly too strong when lie says : * " When Meier and others find in his expressions relative to penitence and indulgence, something which anticipates the Reformation of the sixteenth century, they prove that they are not ac- quainted with the Catholic doctrine on this subject." So, the expressions on the subject of divine grace, in the passage quoted, are simply the echoes of the language of Augustine, the greatest father of the Latin Church. Savonarola's doctrine of grace did not prevent J^is holding firmly the freedom of man, and the necessity of good works. " If any one should ask," he says, "why the will is free, we reply, because it is the will." And he adds that justification, although it be the act of God, needs the concurrence of man. " Wilt thou, my brother, receive the love of Jesus Christ ? See that thou consent to the divine voice which calls thee. The Lord calls thee every day ; do thou also something." Both in theory and in practice, Savonarola was a worker, and held and displayed a deep faith in the power of work. His welliknown motto,t adopted in youth, recorded by all his biographers, and repeatedly used in his sermons, indicates the spirit of his life. " A man," he says, "knows as much as he works" (Tanto sa ciascuno quanta opera). This theory was not in his mind at variance with his sense of entire depend- ence upon the grace of God, any more than it was * Wetzer and Welte's Kirchenlezicon, art. Savonarola. t See p. 128. MONASTIC REFORM. 153 in the mind of S. Paul, or of Him who was Master of both. In closest connection with the assertion of the doctrines of grace was his denunciation of the state of the clergy — the paganism of their belief, and the unchristian character of their lives. " They speak against pride and ambition," he said, "but they are immersed in it up to the eyes. They preach chastity, but they keep concubines. They recommend fasting, but they live luxuriously. It is the Pharisaic spirit come to life in the rulers of Christ's Church. They love greetings in the market- place, and to be called masters and rabbis; they make broad their phylacteries. They do all to be seen of men. It was about this time that he made the often quoted comparison between the priests and the chalices of the early and the later days of the Church. Our Church, he says, has many beauti- ful ceremonies and appointments, candlesticks of gold and silver, and as many chalices as a potentate. "You see great prelates, with mitres of gold and precious stones on their heads, and a pastoral staff of silver ; you see them at the altar with splendid chasubles and embroidered copes, singing those vespers and those fine masses, with so many ceremonies, with so many organs and singers that you are stupefied. . . . And people say that divine worship was never properly celebrated before, and that the early prelates were nothing when compared with these modern ones. True, they had not then so many 154 SAVONAEOLA. gold mitres, nor so many clialices ; and the few that they had they parted with of necessity for the relief of the poor. . . . But do you know what I have to say to you on this ? In the primitive Church there were chalices of wood and prelates of gold : in these days the Church has golden chalices and wooden prelates ! " He spares the princes no more than the prelates. Naturally enough, they were still worse ; and his hearers did not need to go beyond their own city for illustrations of his words. The conflict between himself and the tyranny of the age was ever thickening. In the Lent of 1494, he resumed the exposition of the history of the flood, his sermons On the Arh of Noah, which he had commenced in 1490, and then discontinued. It is thought that the report of these sermons, which we possess in Latin, is a very incom- plete and imperfect representation of those which were actually delivered. It is, at least, certain that these sermons produced the greatest impression upon those who heard them. They were intended to com- plete the series commenced in Advent, which dealt principally with the sins of Italy and the impending chastisement. In the Lent series he proceeds to speak of the ark of safety, in which the faithful may escape from the coming deluge. He carried them on to the end of Lent ; and on Easter Day he spoke of the completion of the ark, of the readiness of all things for the entrance of the people of God. The interest manifested in these discourses was pro- digious. The cathedral was crowded with eager MONASTIC REFORM. 155 listeners. Savonarola was becoming more and more the mind, the conscience, the will of Florence. The whole course of sermons had not completed the exposition of this one chapter of Genesis ; and Savonarola resumed the subject in the month of September, when he prepared to preach thirteen additional sermons by way of conclusion.* The third of these sermons, on the 17th verse of the chapter which speaks of the deluge, fell on the 21st of Sep- tember. It was a day and a sermon never to be forgotten by the preacher or his hearers. The cathedral was crowded, and the multitudes assem- bled had to wait for a long time before the preacher appeared. He ascended the pulpit, labouring under the strongest emotion, which was visible to the audi- ence. Gazing across the sea of human faces, he gave out the words of his text in a voice of awful solemnity: Ecce ego adducam aquas suioer terram (" And behold, I, even I, do bring a flood of waters upon the earth "J. The words and the tone struck terror into every heart. Pico della Mirandola, who was present, relates that a shudder ran through his whole frame, and his hair seemed to stand on end; and Savonarola declares that he was himself not less moved than his hearers. The cause of this unusual emotion was not inadequate. The French had entered Italy, and the news had just arrived that their armies were descending the Alps. The event which Savonarola had expected and pre- * These sermons are, in the Venetian edition already mentioned^ referred erroneously to the Advent of 1493. 156 SAVONAROLA. dieted had now eome to pass ; and men turned to tlie prophet for guidance in their perplexities. It was a great crisis in his history. The friar of Bologna, the Prior of S. Marco, the preacher of Florence, was cow to become the statesman. ( 1-57 ) CHAPTEE IX. THE FRENCH IN ITALY. The liistorian Gibbon speaks of the " expedition of Charles VIII. into Italy," as *''an event which changed the face of Europe ; " * and it certainly was an event which entailed upon Italy, imme- diately and remotely, the most serious conse- quences. The gravity of the circumstances was felt by most of the rulers and public men of Italy ; but few of those who were most deeply interested in it could have dreamt of its far-reaching and enduring effects. It has been charged against Savonarola that he showed a lack of patriotism in encouraging the invasion of Italy by a foreign army ; but a judge- ment of this kind implies a forgetfulness both of the prevalent ideas of the period, and of the part which the great Dominican actually took in the * " Critical researches concerning the title of Charles VIII. to the crown of Naples ; " in Misc. Worls, vol. iii. p. 206. See also Philippe de Comines, L. vii. c. i., who treats the claims of hia master with almost undisguised contempt. 158 SAVONAROLA. transactions of his times. The idea of intervention was one which was perfectly familiar and natural in that age. Independent States, as we understand the word, were very few. The republics of Italy were, in theory at least, dependent upon the Empire: moreover, they hardly ever went to war without allies. In the case of international disputes, leading to war, there was generally a confederation of one set of States against another: there was also fre- quently an appeal to a Power external to the con- tending parties. The natural and, in theory, the rightful superior of the Italian States, to whom all their disputes ought to have been referred, was the Emperor. But the Empire had long ceased to be more than a name to Italy, and any appeal to the German Caesar would have been valueless. Besides, France had been the old ally of Florence, and was one with the republic in its Guelfic policy. The imperial interests were represented by the Ghibelline party. To the contemporaries of Savonarola there was nothing disloyal or unnatural in the desire for an alliance with France. It is true that Savonarola hailed with satisfaction the French invasion of Italy, and saluted Charles VIII. as the " New Cyrus ; " but it was because he believed that Italy needed to be scourged before it could be regenerated, and because he saw in the French king the instrument of God for effecting this purpose. It is true, also, that King Charles referred to the prophecies of Savonarola as giving THE FEENCH ITALY. 159 a sanction to liis enterprise; but there were others besides himself who thought they saw the hand of God guiding the expedition, and it is quite certain that Savonarola's words formed a very slight pro- portion of the complex influences by which he was induced to lead his army into Italy. Charles himself was a man with little capacity for such an undertaking. He must have been of a kindly disposition and of pleasant manners, other- wise he could hardly have been surnamed " The Affable," or have been so deeply regretted by his family when he died. He was, says De Comines, so good, so kindly, "that it is not possible to see a better creature." But he was most insignificant in appearance, being short of stature, and very feeble in body ; and his mental powers were of the most slender character, while his education had been almost entirely neglected. " But for the power and dignity of his eyes," says Guicciardini,* " he would have been terribly ugly." As regards attainments, it is said that he scarcely knew the letters of the alphabet. But he had, notwithstanding, inherited the ambitious sentiments of his father, the crafty and resolute Louis XI.; and, having consolidated the French kingdom by the union of the great Province of Brittany, through his marriage with the Duchess Anne, he began to turn his eyes eastwards, and dreamt of rivalling the fame of S. Louis by leading another * D' aspetto (so tu lievi il vigore et la degnita, degli ccchi) bruttissimo, e I'altre membro proportionate in mode, chc e' pareva quasi piu simile al mostro, cbe a huomo."— Jsiona d' Italia, L. i. 160 SAVONAROLA. crusade against the Turks. As a first step, he undertook to vindicate his supposed rights to the crown of Naples. Those rights hardly deserve investigation at our hands. There are few questions more difficult ta decide than the comparative claims of the houses of Arragon and Anjou to the kingdom of Naples ; and it would be impossible to decide the questions on prin- ciples which are now generally recognized. The law of succession was at that time very vague and uncer- tain. In certain cases the right of a sovereign to nominate his successor, or to decide between two claimants, was acknowledged. The stain of illegiti- macy was not in all cases regarded as a bar to inheritance. All these questions come up in the discussion of the subject. The French claim was certainly very doubtful. If the rights of the house of Arragon were not absolute, they had at least sixty years of possession, and the consent of their subjects. On the other hand, the tyranny of Ferdinand, the ruling sovereign, and his son Alfonso, had stirred up rebellion among his people, and many of them joined in urging the French king to press his claims. The actual undertaking was brought about in a strange manner. The daughter of Ferdinand was married to Gian Galeazzo Sforza, the lawful Duke of Milan, whose inheritance had been seized by his uncle Ludovico, known, from his dark complexion, as " The Moor " {II Moro). Ferdinand was incited by his daughter to assert the rights of her husband THE FKEXCH IX ITALY. I6II who was kept in confinement by his uncle. Ludo- vico, seeing a league in process of formation against him, urged Charles of France to assert his claims to the crown of ^N^aples, promising him assistance on his descent upon Italy. The scheme at first appeared so utterly chimerical that there was hardly a Frenchman who could be found to advise the king to undertake it. Only two of the king's counsellors, both of them men of no consideration, were in favoiu- of the enterprise, and one of these speedily changed his mind. So that we may con- clude," says De Comines, " that this whole expedi- tion, both going and coming, was conducted purely by God ; for the wisdom of the contrivers of this scheme contributed but little."* The condition of Italy was at this time the most tranquil and prosperous.! Guicciardini, in begin- ning his history, pauses before proceeding to narrate the calamities which befell his country, and looks back upon the wealth and glory which excited the admu'ation, and, alas ! also the cupidity of the foreigner. He speaks with enthusiasm of those great republics then at the summit of their power ; of their numerous inhabitants, of their beauty, of the splendour of their towns, of their proud inde- pendence, of the magnificence of their princes, rivalling that of the greatest sovereigns. Italy was in truth the most civilized country in Europe, and , * Memoires, L. vii. c. i. t Guicciardini, Lib. i. c. i. Cliristophe: Paparite pendant lo jgme. siede, Liv. xv. I. M 162 SAVONAEOLA. the most advanced in all that constitutes real pro- gress : in liberty, in the development of industry, in literature and arts, in wealth. The Italians were not only the teachers of learning, of science, of art ; they were the bankers of the kings of the earth. These potentates were frequently unable to deter- mine whether they were in a position to go to war, until they had first ascertained whether they could obtain a loan from the bankers of Venice, of Genoa, or of Florence. If this prosperity was degenerating into luxury, if the moral condition of the country was becoming worse and worse, if faith and virtue were dying out in the hearts of the people and their teachers, these seeds of evil had not yet brought forth all their corrupt fruits. In one respect they were inferior to the other nations of Europe — they had no soldiers. The military art was almost un- known. Battles are reported to have been fought by multitudes of men, in which hardly a combatant perished.* The French army, on the contrary, if partly composed of inferior materials, had a large number of trained and experienced soldiers. Con- sequently, when they entered Italy, they met with no serious opposition. Moreover, if the governments of Italy regarded the invasion of their country with apprehension and aversion, the people at large were for the most part on the side of the French, and welcomed their arrival. * Machiavelli says that frequently two armies were engaged for hours without a man perishing, except those who fell and were trodden to death by the horses ! THE FRENCH IN" ITALY. 163 There was indeed no effective opposition offered to their progress. The Pope, after joining with Ludovico il Moro in inviting the invasion, had turned round and sided with the iNTeapolitans ; but he was not prepared to take action. Piero de' Medici was the devoted friend of the house of Arragon ; but the city of Florence was equally devoted to the French, and the most powerful voice among them only expressed the sentiments of the populace when it welcomed the coming of Charles. Venice was neutral, Milan was with them, Naples was almost in revolution. Ferdinand, troubled and anxious, and consumed with remorse, had died in abject misery at the beginning of this year (January 25, 1494). His son AKonso, who succeeded him, prepared as best he could to meet the approaching invaders. Even at the last moment the French king hesi- tated and drew back from the perilous enterprise, when he received new encouragement from an un- expected quarter. At Lyons he was joined by the resolute Giuliano della Kovere, Cardinal of San Pietro in Vincola, well known in future history as Julius II. He was one of the few cardinals who could not be bribed to vote for the election of Kodrigo Borgia to the Papacy ; and when this man ascended the throne under the name of Alexander VI., the cardinal never laid aside the bitter enmity and contempt with which he regarded the powerful but abandoned Pontiff, whom he pronounced to be a miscreant and a heretic." * Eesolute in his deter- * Marram ed eretico. 164 SAVONAROLA. mination to oppose in every possible way the man whom he regarded as a disgrace to the Church, he not only planned the assembling of a council, in order to obtain his deposition, but he made his escape into France, and used all his influence to induce the king to undertake the invasion of Italy. He told him that, by his procrastination, he was imperilling not only his own honour, but that of his whole people. At last the king put his army in motion, August 12th, 1494, and, crossing the Monte Ginevra, he arrived at Asti, where he was met by Ludovico. Here the king, abandoning himself to pleasure and dissipation, brought on an illness by which he was detained at Asti for a month. When he recovered he proceeded to Pavia, where he visited his relative, the dispossessed Gian Galeazzo, kept here by his uncle, and now prostrated by disease. Isabella of Arragon, his wife, made an appeal to Charles, by which he was greatly moved ; so that he promised to use his influence to obtain their release. He was relieved from his embarrass- ment by the news of the young man's death, which shortly afterwards reached him. His uncle was gravely suspected of having slowly poisoned him. "While hesitating as to his future route, the king heard of the success of the French arms in other quarters. D'Aubigny, who had been sent with a small army into Komagna, had met with no opposition. The Duke of Orleans had repulsed the Neapolitan fleet at Genoa, and had taken Eapallo, and put the THE FEENCH IN ITALY. 165 garrison to the sword, besides slaying the whole of the inhabitants, including forty sick persons in their beds. The Italians were unaccustomed to such ferocity in war, and the whole country was terror- stricken at the intelligence. The king was further confirmed in his resolution by the arrival of Giovanni and Lorenzo de' Medici, cousins of Piero, who came to tell him that Florence and all Tuscany was on his side. The order was now given to advance. The campaign under the king was conducted with the same savage cruelty which had distinguished the Swiss under the Duke of Orleans. The castle of Fivizzano was taken, and the inhabitants put to the sword. The invaders received their first check when they arrived before the fortress of Sarzana. The French and the Florentines had been ancient allies; and King Charles, before undertaking the expedition, had ordered the ambassadors whom he sent into Italy to solicit the friendship of the Medici and their city. He desired them to urge the old friendship existing between the two peoples; to remind the Florentines that Charlemagne had rebuilt their city, and that other French kings had afforded them assistance in their wars. The audacity of these assertions would seem more astonishing, if the fable of the rebuilding of the city had not been received as history at that period, and if we were not somewhat familiar with the ludicrous notion that Charles the Great, a German king, was a Frenchman. The Florentines, however, did not need arguments, good or bad, to make them favour- 166 SAVONAROLA. able to the French; and Piero de' Medici was so infatuated with the Neapolitan alliance, and perhaps so doubtful of the reality of the enterprise, that he gave no heed to them. As he would not receive the invaders as friends, they prepared to enter Tuscany as enemies. The feeble and irresolute Piero now began to tremble for the result of his alliance with Naples. The rapid advance of the French seemed to paralyse what power of thought and action he possessed. If he had even now taken measures to give effect to his policy, he might have seriously embarrassed the invaders, perhaps have finally checked their ad- vance. While he hesitated, Florence was in con- fusion. The popular feelings here, as elsewhere throughout the cities of Italy, had always been on the side of the French ; and the people were incensed as well as alarmed to think that they must meet as an enemy one whom they regarded as a friend. Piero at first thought of resistance, and sent reinforcements to the garrison of Sarzana ; but suddenly changing his mind, he determined to try the effect of personal negotiation with the king. Some years before, when war was being waged between Florence and Naples, his father Lorenzo had conceived the bold project of venturing himself alone into the hands of the King of Naples ; and he had carried out his purpose with so much courage and address, that he had secured honourable terms- for his country. Piero determined to attempt the same experiment with the King of France. Imita- THE FRENCH IN ITALY. 167 tions are not often successful, for the reason perhaps that they ignore the circumstances in which the original example was shown ; but the imitation of a brave and capable man by one who is timid and incapable is almost certainly doomed to failure. Accompanied by ambassadors from the republic, he set forth on his journey. On his way he found that his reinforcements had been met and defeated by the French ; but they had attempted in yain to get possession of the fort of Sarzanello. In spite of this failure, which might have been repeated, in spite of the fact that other and still greater obstacles stood in the way of the invaders, and probably fear- ing lest any attempts at resistance on his part should not be supported by his countrymen, he resolved to make every concession which might be demanded of him. Without communicating with the am- bassadors, he at once consented to surrender to the king the three fortresses of Sarzana, Sarzanello, and Pietra Santa, which were immediately given up.' He also promised to pay a subsidy, and to yield up, the fortresses of Pisa and Livorno on condition of. their being restored after the conquest of Naples ; thus giving the French virtual possession of the whole country. The French king might well con- clude that "God was manifestly conducting their enterprise." * When the ambassadors returned to Florence and * De Comines (Lib. vii. c. 9) says : " If Sarzana had been fur- nished as it ought to have been, the king's army had certainly been ruined in besieging it ; for the country is mountainous and barren, full of snow, and not able to supply us with provisions." 168 SAVONAEOLA. made known the terms conceded by the unworthy Piero, the wrath of the citizens knew no bounds. It was not only that the conditions were ignominious beyond example, but they had been entered into without authority from the rulers of the State, and without the concurrence of the ambassadors. Even those who had hitherto been supporters of the Medici now openly fell away from them. It was easier, however, to quarrel with the existing state of things than to know how to inaugurate a better. The Florentines had lost the sense of liberty and the sense of power by which it is accompanied. Accustomed to lean upon the family which had now betrayed them, they knew not how to set to work so as to act for themselves. There was only one man in whom general confidence was reposed. They turned to the cathedral, expecting and desiring the guidance of Savonarola. It would be well for those who think of the Frato as a wild fanatic, eager for power, burning with hatred against the Medici, and unscrupulous in his denunciation of the enslavers of Florence, to study his conduct at this crisis. One word from him, and the city would have been given up to revolt and confusion. One word from him, and the palace of the Medici and all its treasures would have perished for ever. No one who considers the state of the popular mind, the readiness of the people to follow the guidance of one in whom they confided, and the influence possessed by Savonarola, will doubt the truth of this assertion. THE FEENCH IN ITALY. 169 When the time came to address the anxious and excited multitudes which thronged the Duomo, Savonarola was evidently oppressed by a painful sense of the gravity of the occasion. He felt that a fearful responsibility now devolved upon him, and that a word spoken rashly or imprudently might have terrible consequences. Instead of denouncing the authors of these calamities, he set forth the mercy and patience of God as an example to His people ; and with earnest voice and gesture counselled union and brotherly love. Yet he could not avoid referring to the fulfilment of the predictions which he had so frequently uttered in their ears. " Now,'* he exclaimed, "the sword is come, the prophecies are fulfilled, the scourges have commenced. It is the Lord who guides these armies, O Florence. The time of songs and dances has passed away. It is now time to bewail thy sins with rivers of tears. Thy sins, 0 Florence ; thy sins, 0 Eome ; thy sins, O Italy, are the cause of these stripes. And now repent, give alms, offer prayers, become united. O people, I have been a father to thee ; I have wearied myself all the days of my life to make known to thee the truths of the faith and of holy living, and I have had nothing but tribulations, derision, and reproach. May I have at least the reward of seeing thee do good works ! My people, what else have I desired than to see thee safe, than to see thee united ? Kepent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand. . . ." ; Again, turning his speech into prayer, he cries out, " I turn to Thee, my Lord, Who didst 170 SAVON'AEOLA. die for loye of us, and for our sins. Pardon, 0 Lord, pardon the people of Florence, who now desire to be Thine." He left the pulpit exhausted by the effort ; but the words which he had uttered were not unavailing. His earnest exhortations to peace and charity and unity so moved the people that they remained quiet ; their passions so kept in check by the hand which was now controlling them that no excesses were committed. The helpless condition of dependence into which this great city, once so free, so proud, and so turbu- lent, had fallen became more than ever conspicuous when the leading men of the State assembled to take counsel as to their future action. Notwith- standing the ever-increasing hatred with which the mass of the people regarded the Medici, they shrank from the measures which some of the bolder began to advise. When Luca Corsini rose, without the usual request from the Signoria, and declared that everything had gone wrong with them, and steps must be taken to prevent the ruin with which they were threatened, he was met with astonishment and alarm instead of applause and support. The senti- ment of his hearers so reacted upon himself, that he sat down in confusion, unable to proceed with his address. He was followed by a young man named Tanai di Jacopo de' IST erli, who enforced the words that had just been spoken. Yet he, too, began to hesitate as though abashed at his own audacity ; and his father THE FEEXCH IX ITALY. 171 instantly arose and asked that the words of his son might be excused in consideration of his youth. But there was one voice which did not fear to utter the thoughts that were hibouring in many breasts, nor to point out the duty that was now incumbent upon the rulers of the republic. It was the voice of a man who bore a name illustrious in the annals of Florence, Piero di Gino Capponi. There was something in the commanding appear- ance of the man, and there was in him a youthful impetuosity which his grey hairs had not tamed, which made the multitude listen with deep attention and respect to the few brief but resolute words which he uttered. "Piero de' Medici," he said, " is no longer capable of guiding the State. The republic must see to itself ; it is time to have done with this government of children. Let ambassadors be sent to King Charles. If they meet Piero, let them not salute him. Let them explain to the king that all the mischief has come from Piero, and that the city is friendly to the French. Let them be men of distinction, who will not fail to receive the king with all courtesy ; but, at the same time, let them call in from the country the commanders with their soldiers, and let them conceal themselves in the convents and other secret places, together with the men-at-arms, and let them hold themselves ready in case of need. So that, while we omit nothing that is right and due towards this * most Christian king,' nor fail to satisfy with money the avaricious nature of the French, we may be able, if 172 SAVONAROLA. lie sliould have recourse to acts and proposals which, we cannot endure, to show him our face and our arms. And above all, let us not fail to send along with the other ambassadors Father Girolamo Savonarola, who now possesses the entire affection of the people." It wanted only such clear and decided utterances, which did but interpret the confused thoughts now struggling in the minds of the multitude, to decide their action. The ambassadors were elected on the 5th of November, and among them were Cap- poni himself, Nerli, and Savonarola. It was the custom of the Frate to make his journeys on foot; so that the other ambassadors departed by themselves, and he followed, accom- panied by two of the brethren of his convent. Before setting out he preached again to the people, and told them that it was God who had heard their prayers and was interposing for their safety.* " He alone has come to the help of this city, when all have abandoned it. . . . Persevere then, 0 people of Florence, persevere in good works, persevere in peace. If thou desire that the Lord persevere in compassion, be thou compassionate towards thy brethren, towards thy friends, towards thine enemies. Otherwise there will fall upon thee the blows which are preparing for the rest of Italy. *I will have mercy,' the Lord is calling to you. Woe to him who does not obey His commands." The ambassadors found the king at Lucca, pre- * This sermon, like the last, is among the Prediclie sopra Aggeo. .