NEW PUBLICATIONS.
The Doctrine of Hell, ventilated in a Discussion between the Rev. C. A. Walworth and William Henry Burr, Esq. New York: The Catholic Publication Society. 1873.
This is a very small 18mo volume of one hundred and fifty-one pages, containing more solid matter than some large octavos, as any person who knows F. Walworth’s style of writing would naturally expect. It contains a correspondence between himself and the gentleman whose name is given above, who was a classmate of F. Walworth and one of his fellow-members in the Presbyterian church of Union College. This correspondence appeared in the Investigator, a notorious infidel newspaper of Boston, and was called forth by an indignant denial sent to that paper by F. Walworth of a false and utterly groundless report that he had refused submission to the decrees of the Council of the Vatican. Mr. Burr, who has renounced the errors of Calvinism, and embraced those of infidelity and spiritism, took occasion from this denial and the explicit avowal of perfect submission to all the doctrines of Catholic faith involved in it, to question his former classmate in regard to the doctrine of eternal punishment, and to inquire of him how far his present belief in that doctrine agrees with his former belief while a Presbyterian. This brought on a controversy, in which Mr. Burr attempts to argue against the Catholic doctrine by ridiculing and denouncing certain descriptions of the torments of hell given by various writers, both Protestant and Catholic, bringing in at the same time a number of discursive and random remarks about many other topics, which are generally both very silly and altogether irrelevant. F. Walworth, on his side, steadily refuses to be drawn from the proper subject of controversy, or to permit his adversary to make him responsible for the private opinions of any person, Protestant or Catholic, and adduces strong, solid, irrefutable arguments from reason in support of the strictly Catholic doctrine taught authoritatively by the Church and obligatory on all her members. The only point which F. Walworth professes to aim at, and toward which his argument is directed with undeviating logic, is this. The doctrine which the church authoritatively teaches and imposes as obligatory on the conscience of her children is not contrary to reason, but in accordance with it, and capable of being proved by rational arguments. In his statement of what that doctrine is, F. Walworth follows Petavius, Perrone, and Archbishop Kenrick with theological accuracy. He says (pref., p. 9), “I have planted myself simply and purely upon the defined doctrine of the Catholic Church, and what that doctrine necessarily involves.” This is evidently to be understood of doctrine as defined, in the more general sense of definitely and precisely taught by the infallible magistracy of the church, by whatever method the church may exercise this magistracy, and not to be restricted to definitions de fide contained in explicit decrees of popes and councils. The logical deductions following necessarily from that which is precisely the article of Catholic faith are included in the obligatory doctrine. And where these deductions have not been expressly drawn out and defined in ecclesiastical decrees, the authority of the concurrent teaching of theologians is acknowledged in explicit terms by F. Walworth: “Where any questions remain undefined, I bow respectfully to the concurrent opinions of [the church’s] leading theologians. Beyond this I will not be bound” (p. 47). He says further: “All the language of Holy Scripture on the subject must be accepted and maintained” (Pref., p. 8), which is in accordance with a monition of the last Council of Baltimore to Catholic writers on this subject. The same council also admonishes Catholic writers not to diminish the punishment of sin in such a way as to destroy its proportion to the sin. And if any one will examine what F. Walworth has written, he will see that in this respect also he has fulfilled the precept of the Fathers of Baltimore to the letter. The statement of the defined doctrine of the church respecting hell made by F. Walworth is precisely that of Petavius: “There is a hell, and it is eternal.” Into the question of the specific physical nature and instrumental causes of the punishments of hell he does not enter very deeply. The only opinion of a Catholic writer which he expressly opposes is that of F. Furniss, that the torments of hell increase in geometrical proportion throughout eternity—an opinion which, so far as we know, is not supported by any grave authority. Opinions which are matters of lawful difference and discussion are left on their own proper ground within the domain of theology. The point to be proved is that reason cannot show any valid objection to the doctrine of the everlasting punishment of the man who finishes his term of moral probation on the earth in the state of mortal sin. Mr. Burr produces no such objection. His admissions even confirm the truth of F. Walworth’s positions. He admits that a state of intellectual and moral degradation is in itself a state of misery. The sinner is in this disordered state when he dies. If he lives for ever in the same state, this everlasting state of existence is hell. But who can bring conclusive evidence that there is any necessary cause which must bring him out of this state in the future life? Such evidence not being forthcoming, reason has not a word to say against the teaching of revelation, that those who fail in their earthly probation have no other, and must abide for ever the consequences of their own acts.
Some persons may object to the publication of a controversy in which infidel arguments are placed within the reach of Catholic readers. In the present instance, we think the cause of infidelity has alone any reason to fear anything from Mr. Burr’s letters. His reasonings are so weak and rambling, and the replies of F. Walworth so plain and conclusive, that it must do good to any reader who has a Christian belief to see what a wretched, disgusting substitute for divine religion is offered to the dupes of infidel sophistry. Infidelity destroys the mind and the manhood of the human being. In the form of materialism, it makes him a beast; in the form of spiritism, a lunatic. We do not say that books of this kind should be expressly placed in the hands of all readers, especially children and those who never read anything or hear anything except what is good; but we say to those who do hear and read the infidel sophistry and blasphemy of the day, and therefore need a refutation of it: Take the two sides represented in this book—“Look on this picture, and then look on that.”
We must add that there are some most beautiful passages in F. Walworth’s letters; that, as a literary work, they are a gem; and that the appendix on the universal belief of mankind in hell, though brief, is remarkably comprehensive and valuable.
The Threshold of the Catholic Church: A Course of Plain Instructions for those entering her Communion. By Rev. John B. Bagshawe, Missionary Rector of S. Elizabeth’s, Richmond. With a Preface by the Right Rev. Monsignor Capel. New York: The Catholic Publication Society. 1873.
The first part of this manual contains instruction in the truths of faith; the second part, on sacraments, rites, devotions and similar matters. It is good for candidates for admission into the Catholic Church, for recent converts, and for clergymen, religious ladies, teachers, and others who have converts to instruct.
A Winged Word, and Other Stories. By M. A. T., author of The House of Yorke. New York: The Catholic Publication Society.
This collection of stories, already published separately in The Catholic World, ought to be welcome to all readers of taste and discernment. It is just the book for summer reading, the only companion one could bear in the retirement of the woods, and one whose spirit would never jar upon any of nature’s moods. Fancy reading Miss Braddon or Wilkie Collins under the forest canopy or by the river bank! But here is a book which, at every page, will help you to put your own vague thoughts into words, and will almost make you think that you understand the song of the bobolink and the chatter of the squirrel. And yet it is a book full of human interest, made up of human stories, and treating of sorrow and want as well as of joy and peace. If we did not know that the authoress was a New Englander, we should say she was a German, so subtle and so spiritual are her principal characters, so tender and so chaste her infinitely varied language. There is no passion, no stir, no sensation in her plots, and her words do not pour forth like a lava torrent, suggesting dangerous possibilities, and caressing the animal instincts of our lower nature, like too many of the successful and popular authors of our day. Reading her books, one experiences a sense of coolness, and feels as if transported to a white palace, where a crystal fountain plays unceasingly, and the silent silver bells of lilies hang in clusters over the stream. It would fill all the space we have at command to quote any of her beautiful descriptions of scenes in the woods or by the golden sea-shore; she seems to have gone down into the heart of every flower and learnt its secret, to have lured the confidence of every brooklet, and made every tree sing her some woodland poem.
The stories themselves (except the last) are the merest sketches, made to hang beautiful thoughts upon, just as we plant a slender pole for a scarlet vine to creep over. Yet they are each of them very original, such as only “M. A. T.” would or could write.
One passage in “Daybreak” has been criticised in the Philadelphia Standard as containing the Nestorian heresy. It is found on p. 183: “If you are willing, I would like to teach her to bless herself before praying, and to say a little prayer to the Mother of Christ for your safety. I won’t make her say ‘Mother of God.’” A little attention to the context will make it perfectly evident that this criticism is groundless, and that any Catholic might use this language in a similar instance with perfect propriety. Mr. Granger and his little daughter were Protestants. Margaret had no right to teach the child anything which was against the conscience of her father. He was willing that she should address the Blessed Virgin as the Mother of Christ, but not that she should use the term Mother of God. Mother of Christ is a perfectly proper and orthodox title, and is used by the Church in the Litany of Loretto. Therefore, it was right to teach the child to use it, with her father’s permission, and to abstain from teaching her to use the expression Mother of God, which is really its precise equivalent. S. Basil did not even require certain persons who were estranged from the Catholic fold through the Arian heresy, but who wished to be admitted to the communion of the Church, to profess in express terms that the Holy Ghost is God, but was satisfied with a profession of his divinity in equivalent terms. If an equivalent term may sometimes be admitted in the case of Catholics, much more may it be employed in teaching those who are not Catholics. It is one thing to use terms which are heretical, another to use those which are less explicit, but more easily understood by those who do not know the true meaning of the more explicit Catholic terms.
One of the stories in this collection, “What Dr. Marks Died Of,” might have been omitted without any loss to the volume. It may easily be taken as a shot at the medical profession, and if that was the author’s aim, it is one which we cannot approve. If it was not, the story is an arrow in the air.
[The Irish Reformation]; or, The Alleged Conversion of the Irish Bishops at the Accession of Queen Elizabeth, etc. By W. Maziere Brady, D.D. Fifth Edition. London: Longmans, Green & Co. 1867. (New York: Sold by The Catholic Publication Society.)
[State Papers] Concerning the Irish Church in the Time of Queen Elizabeth. Edited by W. Maziere Brady, D.D. London: Longmans, Green, Reader & Dyer. 1868. (New York: Sold by The Catholic Publication Society.)
We have had frequent occasion of late to notice with pleasure and to congratulate our readers and the Catholic community generally on the revival in England of Catholic literature, and particularly of that class of works which has a tendency to illustrate the dark era of persecution and proscription which, commencing under the reign of Henry VIII., may be said to have reached almost down to our own day. In the last generation, Dr. Lingard, by his impartial History, cleared away a good deal of the rubbish with which the deformities of the so-called English Reformation were hidden from view; subsequently, Lady Fullerton and other distinguished writers of fiction attempted, and with success, to gain the attention of the public to their admirable portraiture of the sufferings and fortitude of the Catholics of England in the times of Elizabeth and James I.; while the erudite editor of the Narrative of F. Gerard has, by his industry and conscientious labors, placed all future historians under a great debt of gratitude.
The works before us, though treating of a different subject, and written by a Protestant clergyman, have a tendency very similar to that produced by the writings we have mentioned. The first is devoted to a discussion of the question whether the Protestant hierarchy in Ireland can legally and historically claim descent from the ancient church in Ireland; or, in plainer terms, have the Anglican bishops in that country ever been consecrated at all, at any time, or by any competent authority? In tracing up the succession of the defunct “Establishment,” the author gives very succinct and accurate sketches of every incumbent, Catholic and Protestant, of every diocese in Ireland from the middle of the XVIth century and proves by dates, facts, and public documents that the “reformed” prelates have no more right to claim apostolic succession than they have to claim to be the apostles themselves. When we mention that Dr. Brady is a beneficed clergyman, and was formerly chaplain to the lord lieutenant, our readers will have little hesitation in accepting conclusions so damaging to his own church, and which, as he tells us himself, only the cause of truth could have compelled him to publish.
The other book, though not so interesting, is to us on this side of the Atlantic of much greater value, as few of us have an opportunity of consulting the originals. It is a collection of state papers, letters, documents, and petitions “touching the mode in which it was sought to introduce the Reformed religion into Ireland,” and are all authenticated copies taken from the records of the State Paper Office in London. However much Dr. Brady may have done by these publications to damage the cause of Protestantism in Ireland, and to humble the pride of a faction that never has and never can possess the respect or affection of the people upon whom it has so long preyed, he has deserved by his fairness and courage the esteem and thanks of all impartial lovers of historical truth.
—Since the above was in type, we find occasion for congratulating the author upon having arrived at the conclusion to which his investigations naturally led, i.e., his reception into the Catholic Church.
[A Visit to Louise Lateau.] By Gerald Molloy, D.D. Boston: P. Donahoe. 1873.
This pretty little gem of a book, which has an engraving of the cottage of the Lateau family as a frontispiece, will charm and edify all those who take an interest in reading about the wonders of divine grace with which our age is specially favored.
[Directorium Sacerdotale]: A Guide for Priests in their Public and Private Life. By F. Benedict Valuy, S.J. With an Appendix for the use of Seminarists. London: John Philp. 1873.
This manual for ecclesiastics is highly commended by the Abbé Dubois, an eminent director of a seminary in France, and an author of works specially intended for priests, who calls it “the priest’s Following of Christ,” and by the Bishop of Shrewsbury, to whom it is dedicated by the translator. A valuable appendix has been added, containing a catalogue of books for a priest’s library and for a mission, i.e., parochial and lending library. It is enough to see Mr. Philp’s name as publisher to know that it has been carefully, neatly, and conveniently printed.
[A Hundred Meditations on the Love of God.] By Robert Southwell, Priest of the Society of Jesus. Edited, with a Preface, by John Morris, S.J. London: Burns & Oates. 1873.
There is a delicious quaintness about these meditations. They are colloquies with God and with self, and come from the soul of a poet who “aspired to and attained martyrdom.” A sketch of the saintly author has recently appeared in The Catholic World (“Poet and Martyr,” April, 1873), so that it is needless to give one here. But the frontispiece of the volume before us is a portrait of F. Southwell, which is valuable.
[Only a Pin.] Translated from the French of J. T. De Saint-Germaine. By P. S. New York: The Catholic Publication Society. 1873.
Only a Pin, but an exceedingly valuable one, pointing a moral keenly and sharply; having a head secure and sound, not likely to be turned by any accidental twist; altogether a well-manufactured pin, straight and strong, not weakly bending this way and that to serve illegitimate uses, but made in the best factory and of good metal; a pin belonging to the first and oldest family in Pindom, and sure to make its mark in the literary world.
We often hear the expression “not worth a row of pins,” but a row like this pin would be far from worthless. One would hardly expect to become interested in the events brought about by so small an article as a pin; yet the accomplished author has managed to engage attention most agreeably from the first chapter to the last.
The translation is in the main very natural and easy, but now and then a sentence seems a little careless or obscure.
[Tales from Church History]: Vivia Perpetua; or, The Martyrs of Carthage. By R. De Mericourt. Translated from the Second French Edition. New York: P. O’Shea. 1873.
The heroine of this story is S. Perpetua, the companion of S. Felicitas. The story is well conceived and powerfully written. We have not seen the original, but the translation shows an experienced and competent hand, and has the great merit of reading as if the book had been composed in English. There are, however, a number of inaccuracies in respect to names, some careless sentences, and other blemishes of style, some of which may be due to incorrect proof-reading, as the errors evidently typographical are numerous. For instance, the Pontifex Maximus is called the Pontiff Maximus, and in one place two Christian converts are called “convicts.” Such an admirable story as this is, with its thrilling delineations of Christian heroism and pagan cruelty, ought to pass through more than one edition. If it does, we hope the publisher will have its clerical errors corrected by a competent hand, and the press-work more carefully performed, so as to make the book in all respects comme il faut. If this is intended as the first of a series, the project is one worthy of commendation.
Since the foregoing was put in type, we have ascertained that the story as it appeared in French was “imitated from the English,” which, we are informed, means that it was a free translation of an English book. This accounts for certain omissions which appear rather singular in a Catholic tale of this sort. No mention is made of the altar, the sacrifice of the Mass, or holy communion. The explanations of Christian doctrine and the answers to Vivia’s objections are not complete and satisfactory. M. de Mericourt has taken care, however, that nothing contrary to Catholic doctrine should be admitted, and as the events of the story do not require any minute description of Christian doctrine or worship, the omissions noted do not essentially detract from its character as a portraiture of Christian virtue in the midst of the dangers and trials of pagan life.
[Cardinal Wiseman’s Essays.] Vol. III. New York: P. O’Shea. 1873.
This new volume contains the splendid refutation of High-Church and Tractarian theories which appeared at the height of the Oxford movement in the Dublin Review. Few persons have ever convinced so many and such able antagonists by an argument as the great cardinal did in this case. If it were possible to obtain the little volume on the last illness and death of the cardinal, printed in England for private circulation, to be published with this collection of his works, the Catholic community would feel itself very much favored. The cardinal was a holy man, as well as a great prelate. We have had the pleasure of reading the beautiful account of his last illness and saintly death in the little volume alluded to, and we cannot help thinking that its publication would be an act of great propriety and utility, unless there is some reason for reserving it for a place in a large and full biography.
—Before going to press, we have noticed among the English announcements that the work above referred to has been published.
[The Fisherman’s Daughter]; The Amulet. Tales by Hendrick Conscience. Baltimore: Murphy. 1873.
It is superfluous to praise Conscience’s tales, which are even better than Canon Schmid’s. These two are uncommonly interesting, and published in a very nice and attractive form, which makes them as pretty little volumes for prizes as boy or girl could wish.
[Modern Magic.] By Schele De Vere. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons. 1873.
This is a crude hodge-podge of facts which the author has picked up here and there, in which he utterly fails to distinguish between the natural, the diabolical, and the divine. He has read some Catholic works, and is to some extent familiar with the lives of the saints; but the little that he knows only serves to place his ignorance in a stronger light. What a pity it is that educated men should be ignorant of what a child can so easily learn! Except for the additional examples which he brings from recent times, Mr. De Vere would have been more usefully employed in translating Görres, from whom he occasionally quotes.
[La Primaute et l’Infaillibilité des Souveraines Pontifes, etc.] Par l’Abbé L. N. Bégin, D.D. Quebec: Huot. 1873.
This is another timely and admirable course of lectures from the Laval University. The topics of the lectures are historical, embracing the chief difficulties presented in the earlier, mediæval, and later history of the Roman pontiffs respecting the supremacy and infallibility of the successors of S. Peter. The controversies on rebaptism, the Philosophumena, the case of Liberius, of Zosimus, of Vigilius, of Honorius, the subject of the false decretals, the career of S. Gregory VII., the conflict of Boniface VIII. with Philip le Bel, the affair of the Templars, the great schism of Avignon, the condemnation of Galileo, the suppression of the Jesuits, and several other topics, are discussed in these able lectures in a critical and erudite manner, in so far as space and the other conditions to which the nature of his discourses subjected the author, have given him the opportunity. The whole is preceded by an essay on the doctrine of the supremacy, and concluded by a short eulogium on Pius IX. The author is a graduate of the Roman College, and imbued with the sound scholarship and orthodox spirit of that institution, the headquarters of sacred science, which may God deliver from the impure horde who are now defiling its precincts by their odious presence! There are a great number of intelligent Catholic laymen seeking with anxiety at the present time for clear, satisfactory information on just these topics which the Laval professor has handled in the lectures now published. It is a pity that they are accessible to those only who read French. If the Quebec publisher would issue an edition in English, we are inclined to think that the sale in England and the United States would reimburse him. The lectures on the Syllabus, noticed in this magazine some months ago, are also worth translating, and the publication of two such courses in the English language would most certainly bring great honor to the Laval University.
To Contributors.—New contributors are reminded that no attention can be paid to manuscripts unless accompanied by the writers’ real names, and a reference, if they are unknown to the editor.
We also desire it to be understood that short, pithy articles on subjects of present interest will have the preference, and that none should exceed twelve printed pages (of 650 words each), except by special arrangement.
BOOKS AND PAMPHLETS RECEIVED.
From Burns, Oates & Co., London, and The Catholic Publication Society, New York: The Life and Letters of S. Francis Xavier. By H. J. Coleridge, S.J. Vol. II. 12mo, pp. xxi-579.—Homeward. By Rev. F. Rawes, O.S.C.
From J. Murphy & Co., Baltimore: A Novena in Honor of S. Joseph. From the Italian of F. Patrignani, S.J. 24mo, pp. 104.
From Collins & Bro., New York: Teachings of Jesus. 24mo, pp. 44.
From Holt & Williams, New York: On the Eve. By I. S. Turgenieff. 18mo, pp. vi.-272.—Count Kostia. By Victor Cherbuliez. 18mo, pp. 307.—Scintillations from the Prose Works of Heinrich Heine. 18mo, pp. xx.-185.—Under the Greenwood Tree. By Thos. Hardy. 18mo, pp. vi.-269.
From Roberts Bros., Boston: Memoir of Samuel J. May. 18mo, pp. 297.
From D. & J. Sadlier & Co., New York: The Tithe-Proctor. By W. Carleton. 12mo, pp. xiv.-432.—Ravellings from the Web of Life. By Grandfather Greenway. 12mo, pp. 364.—Germaine Cousin. By Lady Fullerton. 18mo, paper, pp. 30.—Which is Which? By the same. Paper, 18mo, pp. 45.—The Elder Brother. By Mrs. Jas. Sadlier. 18mo, paper, pp. 31.—The Invisible Hand. By Mrs. Jas. Sadlier. 18mo, paper, pp. 36.
From Brig.-Gen. Albert J. Myer, U.S.A.: Annual Report of the Chief Signal Officer to the Secretary of War, for 1872. 8vo, pp. 292.
From Daily Journal Printing House, Syracuse: Addresses, etc., at the Inauguration of Alex. Winchell as Chancellor of the Syracuse University. 8vo, paper, pp. 79.
From The Society: Annual Address of Chief-Justice Daly, the President, before the American Geographical Society, Feb. 17 1873. 8vo, paper, pp. 60.
From G. I. & C. Kreuzer, Baltimore: Das Leben des HI. Paul vom Kreuze. Aus dem Italienischen von einem Mitgliede der Congregation der Passionisten. 12mo, pp. xvi.-400.
From Herder, Freiburg: Leben des seligen Petrus Faber, ersten Priesters der Gesellschaft Jesu. Von Rudolf Cornely, S.J. 12mo, paper, pp. 200.
From Weed, Parsons & Co., Albany: Remarks of Hon. Thos. Raines in Reply to the State Engineer and Commissioners. Paper, 8vo, pp. 28.
THE
CATHOLIC WORLD.
VOL. XVII., No. 101.—AUGUST, 1873.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by Rev. I. T. Hecker, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.
[JEROME SAVONAROLA.]
PART THIRD.
“For neither in our own age nor in those of our fathers and grandfathers has any ecclesiastic been known to be so richly endowed with virtues, on whom so great reliance could be placed, or who enjoyed a greater degree of authority. Even his opponents admit him to have been a man of vast learning in numerous branches.... This was especially the case in respect of the Holy Scriptures, and in the knowledge of which it is a general belief that there had not existed for ages any one at all his equal. He evinced a profound judgment, not only in literature, but in the ordinary affairs of life.... The confidence he inspired was marvellous.”—Guicciardini, Storia Inedita di Firenze.
“ ... Of such a man one ought never to speak but with reverence.”—Machiavelli, Discorsi.
Charles VIII. crossed the Alps at the head of an army of 22,000 infantry and 24,000 cavalry—admirably armed and appointed for that period. They had thirty-six cannons, of which the wonder was related that they were drawn by horses, the guncarriages having four wheels, two of which could be detached when they went into battery. To these forces were to be joined those of Ludovico the Moor, Duke of Milan, who had specially urged the coming of Charles. To such an army as this, the Italians feared that all the armies of Italy, even if they could be consolidated, could offer no effectual resistance. They were in wretched condition, both as to men and commanders, and the famous condottieri had degenerated into mere consumers of pay and rations.
Under the able diplomacy of Lorenzo, the most friendly relations had been cultivated with France, and Charles VIII. was inclined to treat Tuscany more as an ally than an enemy. But Piero, with characteristic ineptness, manifested a preference for Naples, and alienated the French king. The indignation of the Florentines was intense when they found that Piero’s course was likely to bring an army of invasion within their walls; for the French advance was already marked by the brutal massacres of the people of Rapallo and Fivizzano after the garrisons had surrendered. Having separated his cause from that of the citizens, and without men and means to oppose the French, the frightened Piero set out for the king’s camp to sue for peace. Charles had yet to pass on his way to Florence three strongholds, Sarzanello, Sarzano, and Pietra Santa, any one of which with a small force could hold a powerful army in check. When Piero reached the French lines, Charles had been besieging Sarzanello for three days without success. The invaders were in a barren country, shut in between the mountains and the sea. In point of fact, they were poorly commanded; the French king himself was a model of stupid indolence and neglect, and they might easily have been driven back in confusion. And yet the panic-stricken Piero, without consulting the ambassadors who accompanied him, immediately yielded to all the conditions demanded by Charles, and even more; for he surrendered at once the three formidable fortresses, besides those of Pisa and Leghorn, and agreed, moreover, to a forced loan of 200,000 ducats from Florence. The fortresses thus given up had been gained by long sieges and enormous sums of money, and were the military keys of Tuscany. Naturally enough, the news of their surrender aroused the Florentines to anger, which was intensified by what they heard from the ambassadors of the conduct of Piero. Excitement spread throughout the city. All business was suspended. Groups in the public places soon swelled to crowds. Fierce and angry-looking men were seen bearing weapons but partially concealed. Daggers were brandished that had not seen the light of day since the Pazzi conspiracy. Artisans of all trades, and in particular the ciómpi, the strong-armed wool-combers, abandoned their workshops, recalling their former triumphs under Michele di Lando in the days of the republic. But the old friends of popular liberty among the higher classes had, during the past sixty years, all melted away in exile or persecution, and there was every excess and atrocity to be feared from an enraged multitude just freed from servitude, and making no concealment of their threats against those who had become wealthy and powerful by oppressing them. Such crowds as these raged through the streets of Florence, when a sermon from Savonarola was announced at the Duomo. A dense mass of people soon filled it, and Savonarola from his place looked down on a human powder-magazine in which the smallest spark in shape of an imprudent word would create explosion and spread dire disaster. If “turbulent, priestly demagogue” there were, this was the moment and this the place to find him.
What said Savonarola?
Not a word of their complaints or their wrongs, past or present; not the slightest allusion to Piero or to the Medici; but, bending over the pulpit with outstretched arms, and looking into the mass of upturned faces with gaze of affection and expression of tenderest sympathy, he poured out words of peace, union, and charity: “Behold, the sword has descended, the scourges have commenced, the prophecies are being fulfilled; behold the Lord, who is leading on those armies. O Florence! the time for music and dancing is at an end: now is the time for pouring out rivers of tears over your sins. Thy crimes, O Florence! thy crimes, O Rome! thy crimes, O Italy! are the cause of these chastisements. Behold, then, give alms, offer up prayers, be a united people. O my people! I have been to thee as a father; I have labored throughout my life to make thee know the truth of faith, and how to lead a good life, and have met with nothing but tribulation, scorn, and opprobrium. I might have had this compensation at least, that I might have seen thee performing some good deeds. My people, have I ever shown any other desire than to see thee in safety, to see thee united? Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand. But that I have said many times. I have so often cried out to thee, I have so often wept for thee, O Florence! that it might have sufficed thee. I turn, then, to thee, Lord; pardon this people, who desire to be thine.” He then went on enjoining charity and faith with an energy overflowing more with affection than eloquence, and the crowd who entered the Duomo a raging multitude, left it in peaceful procession.
Old Gino Capponi, a man resolute in word and deed, arose in a meeting of the signiory, and said: “The republic must look to itself; it is high time to get rid of being governed by children. Let ambassadors be sent to King Charles, and, if they meet Piero, let them not salute him. Let commanding officers and troops be called in, and, while kept out of sight in cloisters and other places, hold themselves in readiness, so that, while nothing is wanting in honorable dealing with the king, we yet stand prepared to resist designs to which we should not submit. And above everything, do not fail to send with the ambassadors the Padre Girolamo Savonarola, to whom the people are so entirely devoted.”
Capponi’s suggestions were all adopted. The embassy was sent, Savonarola following it on foot—his usual mode of travelling. The other ambassadors were coldly received by the king, and immediately returned to Florence with the assurance that his majesty was by no means well disposed towards the republic. Savonarola reached the French camp, and, passing through the soldiery, soon came in presence of the king, seated among his generals. He was courteously received, and, with slight preamble, thus addressed Charles in a loud and commanding tone: “Most Christian king, thou art an instrument in the hand of the Lord, who sends thee to deliver Italy from her afflictions, as for many years I have predicted, and sends thee to reform the church, which lies prostrate in the dust. But if thou be not just and merciful; if thou pay not respect to the city of Florence, to its women, its citizens, its liberty; if thou dost forget the work for which the Lord sends thee, he will then select another to fulfil it, and will let the hand of his wrath fall upon thee, and will punish thee with awful scourges. These things I say to thee in the name of the Lord.”
EXPULSION OF THE MEDICI.
Meantime, serious events had occurred in Florence. The reports of the returning ambassadors had produced still greater excitement. Piero de’ Medici had attempted to regain possession of the government, but had failed, was hooted at, mobbed, driven from the city, and a price set upon his head. Palle! palle![163] once the all-powerful rallying-cry of the Medici in Florence, fell dead on the ears of the people. The Medicean palace was seized, and the houses of Cardinal de’ Medici, and of Guidi and Miniati, confidential agents of the Medici, were sacked. The turbulent mob appeared disposed to proceed to still greater lengths, when Savonarola returned from his mission to the French camp, again preaching charity, union, and peace.
His bold language had profoundly impressed the French king, who resolved to be guided by what the monk had said, and on the 17th of November, 1494, at the head of a portion of his army, some 12,000 men, he made a peaceful entry into the city of Florence. Meanwhile, Capponi, resolved to be prepared for the worst, had laid in good store of munitions of war in buildings where he held reserves of soldiery, in cloisters and courtyards. Materials for barricading the streets were provided, and all were ordered to come forth armed at the first sound of the bell. His precautions were timely.
CHARLES ENTERS FLORENCE.
The reception of the French king was magnificent, and, after the ceremonies, feasts, and illuminations attendant upon it, he was sumptuously installed in the Medicean palace. Here the wife and the mother of Piero de’ Medici contrived to negotiate with him for the restoration of the Medicean rule. Tempting offers were made him: Piero was to be brought back, and the government of Florence was to be shared with the king. The effect of all this was soon visible in the extravagance of the demands made by Charles upon the Florentines. The signiory resisted; the king refused to recede, and gave them his ultimatum. On its rejection by the syndics, he said, in a threatening tone: “Then we shall sound our trumpets.” “And we,” instantly replied Capponi, springing to his feet—“and we will ring our bells.”
Charles thought better of it, and the treaty was shortly afterwards signed. It recognized the republic, and gave the king the sum of 120,000 florins in three instalments. The treaty ratified, still the king lingered. Troubles arose. Collisions had taken place between the soldiery and the citizens; robbery and murder were of nightly occurrence; shops were closed, and trade generally suspended. The worst consequences were feared, and Savonarola, fully occupied in preaching peace and warding off dangers, was implored to use his influence with the French king, and persuade him to depart. He immediately presented himself before Charles, who, surrounded by his nobles, graciously received him.
“Most Christian prince,” said the monk, “thy stay causes great damage to this city and to thy enterprise. Thou losest time, forgetting the duty that Providence hath imposed upon thee, to the great injury of thine own spiritual welfare and the world’s glory. Listen, then, to the servant of God. Proceed on thy way without further tarrying. Do not desire to bring ruin on this city, nor provoke the anger of the Lord.” A few days afterwards, the king and his army departed.
THE REPUBLIC.
Great was the joy of the Florentines to be rid of the foreigner and his armed legions. Short as had been his stay, it left profound traces. Pisa, Arezzo, and Montepulciano had risen in rebellion. The enormous sums paid to the French king had drained the resources of the city. The wealthy were impoverished, and misery spread among the poorer classes. Savonarola proposed, first of all, to provide for the wants of these last, and to take up collections for them. If they proved insufficient, to turn into ready money the plate and ornaments of the churches; to reopen the shops without delay; to lighten the taxes, especially to the lower classes; and, finally, to pray to God with fervor.
A parlamento, or assemblage of the people, was now held to establish the new government. Without experience or sufficient knowledge on their part, it resulted in the re-establishment of the old magistrates, and the maintenance of the old forms so cunningly devised by the Medici, that, while the people possessed the outward show of an independent government, it was one which from its nature could easily be wielded at the will of one man. These defects soon became apparent, and various propositions for reform were forthwith made at the Palazzo. Differences were represented by two parties, headed respectively by Paolo Antonio Soderini, and Guido Antonio Vespucci. Soderini was of the popular party, and preferred the form of government at Venice as the best model for the Florentines to adopt, stipulating that, instead of limiting the Grand Council, as in Venice, it should be composed of the whole people, and a smaller council called, composed of the ottimati, or men of experience. Vespucci argued strongly against the democratic features of Soderini’s proposition. It was evident that he carried with him the majority at the Palazzo, and among them, naturally enough, many recent partisans of the Medici. While the debates grew warmer and longer, many citizens feared the result, and appealed to Savonarola for counsel. He, too, saw the danger even more clearly than they, and resolved to give the counsel asked. The interference of holy and religious people in political affairs was no new thing in Italy. S. Dominic had participated in affairs of state in Lombardy; peace had been effected between the Guelphs and Ghibellines by a cardinal; S. Catherine of Sienna interfered to raise the interdict pronounced on Florence by Gregory XI.; and S. Antonino, the former Archbishop of Florence, had more than once interposed to prevent the passage of unjust laws.
On the third Sunday in Advent (Dec. 12, 1494), in the course of his thirteenth sermon on Aggeus, Savonarola spoke to the people of government, discussed its general nature, the advantages of its several forms, and what was best for them; and concluded this ought to be the groundwork: that no individual shall have any benefit but such as is general, and the people alone must have the power of choosing the magistrates, and of approving the laws.
In a subsequent sermon at the Duomo, to which he invited all the magistrates and people except women and children, he presented the four following propositions:
First. They should in all things have the fear of God before them, and there should be a reform of manners.
Second. All considerations of private utility should yield to the public good and the cause of popular government.
Third. General amnesty absolving the friends of the late government from all blame, and remitting all penalties, with indulgence to those who were indebted to the state.
Fourth. Establish a general government which should include all citizens who, according to the ancient statutes, formed a part of the state, recommending the form of the Grand Council at Venice as best adapted, modifying it to suit the peculiar character of the Florentine people.
This effectually disposed of the plan of Vespucci, which would otherwise have prevailed at the Palazzo, leaving Florence under a patrician government which might ripen into despotism, or be the ever-frequent provocation of fresh disorders and revolutions.
SAVONAROLA ON GOVERNMENT.
There is nothing more remarkable in Savonarola’s character and career than the familiarity displayed by him with the principles and practical working of government, as manifested by his writings and sermons during the course of the debates and struggles attendant upon the formation of the new republic. On all the proposals or modifications of fundamental laws, the popular party would enter into no discussion, nor take any decisive step, until Savonarola had spoken. And it was remarked that, during the discussions which followed in the Consiglio and other assemblies, the new law itself, or arguments pro or con for a change or abrogation of the old, were presented by those who spoke in the very words in which he had discussed the matter in his sermons. It would indeed be matter of legitimate surprise that a monk whose whole time was, as we have seen, fully occupied with the duties of his station, should possess even slight command of a subject so foreign to his calling, were it not that we are apprised of the sources of Savonarola’s knowledge. They lay in his profound study of S. Thomas Aquinas for the principles, and in his keen personal observation for the practice, of government. To the treatise De Regimine Principium he is largely indebted for his theory of popular government. No modern writer has pointed out the evils of tyrannical government more clearly than S. Thomas Aquinas, and none more clearly than he has shown that government to be the best which tends most to the moral, intellectual, and material interests of the people, and includes the largest number of citizens under its protection. We sincerely regret that our restricted limits will not permit the citation of numerous passages from “the Angelic Doctor” upon this subject, clothed in to-day’s English; they might much more readily be taken for the lucubrations of an advanced political thinker of 1873 than for those of an ecclesiastic of 1273. And we would express the same regret as to the work of Savonarola—his Treatise on Government.[164] Throughout the entire range of modern literature, comments on Machiavelli’s Il Principe are so constantly dinned in our ears that one might suppose the Italy of that day to have been in profound ignorance even theoretically of the principles of free government. Savonarola’s treatise is the antidote of Machiavelli’s Prince. There are passages in it from which it might be concluded that he not only saw the necessities of actual democratic governments, but also foresaw the dangers of those not yet in existence. Thus: “Not wealth, as we commonly believe, is the cause why an individual attains the headship of a state. Rather the cause lies in this: that an individual attains to overwhelming influence and exclusive consideration in the state by the possession and distribution of public offices and dignities. To deprive individuals of this power is the first stipulation of a popular government, which demands that no law and no tax, no office nor honor, should be conferred or become valid without the consent of the whole people. But in order that the whole people shall not be collected together on every occasion, this right will be vested in a certain number of citizens,” etc. And he concludes with this passage: “As in everything, so likewise in the state spiritual force is the best and worthiest of ruling powers. Hence it is that, even from the beginning, a still imperfect state of government will flourish in complete security, and with time acquire perfection; if it is always universally acknowledged that the end of all Christian states is the improvement of the citizens by the withdrawing of all obscenity and all wickedness, and that the truly Christian life subsists in the fear of God; if, moreover, the law of the Gospel is esteemed as the measure and rule of civil life and of all laws that are made; if, further, all citizens show a true love of their country; if, finally, a general peace shall have been concluded among the citizens, all past injustice of the former government forgiven, and all older hatred forgotten—such unity makes strong within, secure and feared without.”
SAVONAROLA’S CIVIL REFORMS.
The first measures decreed by the new government proved superior intelligence in political matters. The ancient laws of the city were found in such confusion that even judges and officials were not aware of the extent of their duties or their jurisdiction. It was ordered that these laws should be consolidated in one volume, or, as we would say nowadays, codified. Savonarola then insisted on a reform in the system of taxation, which, under the Medici, was not only onerous and clumsy in application, but unjust in its distribution. The so-called catasto, or system of assessing taxes on the supposed profits of trade and commerce, was not only exhausting but absolutely destructive of many branches of trade and industry, at once ruining those who pursued them, and drying up the sources of wealth to the state. “Lay the taxes solely on property,” said Savonarola. “Put an end to the continual loans and all arbitrary imposts.” And he recommended a new system—one devised with so much prudence, says Villari, so much wisdom, and on such sound principles, that it has continued to be acted upon ever since. This new law established a tax on property for the first time in Florence, and also for the first time in any part of Italy; it put an end to all loans and arbitrary assessments, and obliged every citizen, without distinction, to pay ten per cent. of the income he derived from permanent property.
A general amnesty for political offences was next decreed, and many penalties assessed were remitted. Among the latter was one of June 8, 1495, which possesses a certain historical interest: “The magnificent signiory and Gonfalonieri, considering that Messer Dante Alighieri, great-grandson of the poet Dante, has not been able to return to this city, from his want of means to pay the taxes imposed by the signiory in the past November and December, and they being of opinion that it is very fitting that some mark of gratitude should be shown, through his descendants, to a poet who is so great an ornament to this city, be it enacted that the said Messer Dante may consider himself free, and hereby is free, from every sentence of outlaw, exile, etc.”
Savonarola next drew public attention to the sore need of a Monte di Pietà—an institution to which the poor could resort in pecuniary stress for a temporary loan of money on objects pledged. By reason of the absence of such an establishment, and the popular indignation against the Jews, from whom the needy were obliged to borrow, serious disturbances had broken out under Piero de’ Medici; but the poor were no better off than before, and the necessity of some aid for them was a crying one. It was officially ascertained that there were Jews in Florence who lent money at 32-1/2 per cent., with compound interest, so that a loan of one hundred florins on their terms would in fifty years amount to 49,792,556 florins.
Savonarola urged the subject vehemently from the pulpit, without, however, attacking the Jews. He desired they should be converted, not persecuted. A law was passed (Dec. 28, 1495) establishing a Monte. Expenses of the institution were not to exceed 600 florins per annum; interest to be paid by the borrower not to exceed six per cent.; and borrowers were required to take an oath that they would not gamble with the money so lent. Thus, with a fairer administration of justice, a radical reform in taxation, the abrogation of usury, the permanent relief of the poor, the liberty to carry arms, the abolition of the Parlamento, and the establishment of the Consiglio Maggiore, it may be said that the freedom of the Florentine people was obtained without bloodshed or riot in a single year. The American traveller of to-day who visits Florence will remark on the platform in front of the Palazzo Vecchio the admirable statue of Judith slaying Holofernes—the work of the immortal Donatello. It was placed there at this time as a symbol of the triumph of liberty over tyranny. On its pedestal are inscribed these words: Exemplum sal: pub: cives posuere MCCCCXCV. (“The citizens placed this symbol of the public safety, in the year 1495”). If the man who was the soul of this great movement had been a great soldier or potentate, his name would have been handed down to posterity as that of a new Lycurgus. But he was a simple white-robed monk, with no other insignia of rank or authority than his persuasive word and the example of his pure life. Neither in the public places nor the meetings of deliberation and discussion was he ever seen, nor had he any system of secret influence or hidden working. Of seeking any personal advantage or emolument no one ever thought of seriously accusing him.
All he thought and had to say on matters of public weal he announced publicly in the pulpit. To those who complained of undue clerical influence in secular matters, and hinted at the desire of a monk to govern a republic, he replied that in its trouble he held it to be his duty to give advice to the new state, especially when so many in the council feared to proclaim the truth. More he had not done. Seeking to lead men to propriety and justice is not meddling. Such participation in civil affairs is neither unworthy itself of a priest nor without example in history, ancient or modern. He had gone no further than to denounce open abuses, to encourage men to what was good and peaceful, and to preach the Gospel. “I have said to you,” he tells them in one of his sermons, “that I will not mix in government affairs, but only labor therein to preserve complete the general peace. To recommendations of individuals or similar solicitations I never yield. Go with these to the proper officials. I also say here openly, if any of my friends should be recommended to you, deal no otherwise with him than according to justice. Yet once more: I do not meddle with state affairs; I wish only that the people should remain in peace, and receive no injury.”
Perfect, Savonarola’s work certainly was not, for there was in it the germ of an oligarchic power which at a later day worked like a principle of corruption. Savonarola himself would have wished it more complete. It has been sought to throw personal ridicule upon the great Dominican, and to deny him any marked political eminence; but when we gather the opinions of three great Florentines who lived after him, who were not his disciples, and who were eminently qualified to judge the subject-matter in question, moderns and foreigners may properly remain silent. We refer to Machiavelli, Guicciardini, and Gianotti. Of Savonarola personally, Machiavelli frequently spoke in terms of sarcasm and irony, although in his writings he refers, to “the learning, the prudence, and the purity of his mind.” He describes him (Decennale Primo) as “breathing divine virtue”; and again he says: “Of such a man one ought never to speak but with reverence.” He admits the great importance of the institutions founded by Savonarola, and tells Leo X. there is no other way to bring the state of Florence into order than by the restoration of the Consiglio Maggiore—the council for the establishment of which Savonarola struggled with such pertinacity. Gianotti, a noble patriot twice exiled, who made special study of the subject of government, says: “He who established the Consiglio Grande was a far wiser man than Giano della Bella, because the latter thought of securing the liberties of the people by humbling the great, whereas the object of the other was to secure the liberties of all,” and is elsewhere enthusiastic in his admiration of Savonarola. Guicciardini the pompous historian and diplomat, and Guicciardini composing in the privacy of his study, are two different writers. It is not in his Storia d’Italia that we must look for his real sentiments on certain subjects. The diplomat holds the pen there. But in his Ricordi, published long after his death, he says: “Such was the love of the Florentines for the liberty conferred upon them in 1494 that no arts, no soothings, no cunning devices of the Medici, ever sufficed to make them forget it; that there was a time when it might have been easy, when it was a question of depriving the few of their liberty; but, after the Consiglio Grande, it was the deprivation of liberty to all.” Elsewhere he says: “You are under heavy obligations to this friar, who stayed the tumult in good time, and accomplished that which without him could only have been attained through bloodshed and the greatest disorders. You would first have had a government of patricians, and then an unbridled popular government, giving rise to disturbances and shedding of blood, and probably ending in the return of Piero de’Medici. Savonarola alone had the wisdom, from the outset, to arrest the coming storm by liberal measures.” Finally, in his Storia di Firenze, he has none but the most enthusiastic terms of praise for the prudence, the practical and political genius, of the friar, and calls him the saviour of his country.
THE SERMONS AGAIN.
The great questions of government which then agitated Florence did not for a moment distract Savonarola’s attention from the duty of preaching practical Christian duties. After the course of sermons on Aggeus, he preached on the Psalms, for the Lenten course of 1495 on Job, resuming the Psalms after Lent. Solid teaching and vehement admonition were never absent, and the sermons of 1494 were quite as strongly marked by those features as those of the first course at the Duomo, in one of which he tells his hearers: “How have you renounced the devil and his pomps—you who every day do his works? You do not attend to the laws of Christ, but to the literature of the Gentiles. Behold, the Magi have abandoned paganism, and come to Christ, and you, having abandoned Christ, run to paganism. You have left the manna and the bread of angels, and you have sought to satiate your appetite with the food that is fit for swine. Every day avarice augments, and the vortex of usury is enlarged. Luxury has contaminated everything; pride ascends even to the clouds; blasphemies pierce the ears of Heaven; and scoffing takes place in the very face of God. You (who act thus) are of the devil, who is your father, and you seek to do the will of your father. Behold those who are worse than the Jews; and yet to us belong the sacred Scriptures, which speak against them.... Many are the blind who say our times are more felicitous than the past ages, but I think, if the Holy Scriptures are true, our lives are not only not like those of our fathers of former times, but they are at variance with them.... Cast your eyes on Rome, which is the chief city of the world, and lower your gaze to all her members, and, lo! from the crown of the head to the sole of the foot, no health is there.
“We are in the midst of Christians, we converse with Christians, but they are not Christians who are so only in name; far better would it be in the midst of pagans.... For now men have become lovers of themselves; covetous, haughty, proud, profane, disobedient, ungrateful, given to ribaldry, without love, without peace, censorious, incontinent, spiteful, without benignity, treacherous persons, deceivers, puffed-up, lovers of voluptuousness more than that of God, who have the form of righteousness, but who deny the value of it.”
More than ever the people hung upon his words. Numbers came from Pisa, Leghorn, and the neighboring cities to hear him; many also from as far as Bologna, to remain in Florence during Lent. Residents of the neighboring villages and hamlets, and mountaineers from the Apennines, filled the roads to Florence on Saturdays and the eves of feast days; and, when the city gates were opened at dawn of day on Sunday morning, crowds were there waiting entrance. Strangers thus coming were received with brotherly charity, and the duties of Christian hospitality were observed. Even in winter, the people of Florence rose from their beds after midnight, in order to reach the Duomo in time to secure a place, and then waited in church, taper in hand, praying, singing hymns, or reciting the office, for hours together. The cathedral could not contain his audience. Seats were put up in an amphitheatre to increase the space. Men and boys swarmed on the pillars and every point where it was possible to obtain a position. Even the piazza was full.
All these remarkable manifestations were not without results. Florence became a changed city. Not only were churches assiduously attended, but alms were freely given. Women laid aside their rich ornaments and expensive jewels, and dressed with simplicity. Light and careless carriage or demeanor was rare. Habits of prayer and spiritual reading in the houses of the Florentines became the rule rather than the exception. The obscene carnival songs of the Medicean period were no longer heard in the streets, but, in their place, lauds or hymns. At the hour of mid-day rest, the artisan or tradesman might be seen reading the Bible or some pamphlet by Savonarola, and young men of noted licentious or frivolous habits became models of good conduct. Fast days were observed with such rigor that, in justice to the butchers, the tax on their calling was lowered. Men and women of disedifying or tepid life became religious—among them men of mature age, distinguished in letters, science, and public affairs. Such young men as the Strozzi, the Salviati, the Gondi, and the Accaiuoli joined the friars of S. Mark and other religious orders. Restitution of ill-gotten gains or property was common. But the most wonderful thing of all, says a historian, was to find bankers and merchants refunding, from scruples of conscience, sums of money, amounting sometimes to thousands of florins, which they had unrighteously acquired.
PROPHESIES HIS OWN DEATH.
Still Savonarola pressed on in his work of conversion as though it had just begun. His followers had prepared themselves for a joyful tone of victory in his sermons by reason of his brilliant civic triumphs, and were ready to rend the air with their alleluias. But he, on the contrary, seemed more serious, more sad, than ever, and, in his first discourse after the events we have just related, opened with an allegory full of sorrowful forebodings, and the prophecy of his own violent death:
“A young man, leaving his father’s house, went to fish in the sea; and the master of the vessel took him, while he was fishing, far into the deep sea, whence he could no longer discern the port; whereupon the youth began to lament aloud. O Florence! that sorrowful youth thus lamenting is before you in this pulpit. I left my father’s house to find the harbor of religion, departing when I was twenty-three years old in pursuit only of liberty and a life of quiet—two things I loved beyond all others. But then I looked upon the waters of this world, and began, by preaching, to gain some courage; and, finding pleasure therein, the Lord led me upon the sea, and has carried me far away into the great deep, where I now am, and can no longer descry the harbor. Undique sunt angustiæ--shoals are on every side. I see before me the threatening tribulations and tempests, the harbor of refuge left behind, the wind carrying me forward into the great deep. On my right, the elect calling upon me for help; on my left, demons and the wicked tormenting and raging. Over, above me, I see everlasting goodness, and hope encourages me thitherward; hell I see beneath me, which, from human frailty, I must dread, and into which, without the help of God, I must inevitably fall. O Lord, Lord! whither hast thou led me? That I might save some souls to thee, I am myself so placed that I can no more return to the quiet I left. Why hast thou created me to live among the contentions and discords of the earth? I once was free, and now I am the slave of every one. I see war and discord coming upon me from every side. But do you, O my friends! you the elect of God, have pity upon me. Give me flowers; for, as is said in the Canticle, quia amore langueo—because I languish through love. Flowers are good works, and I wish for nothing more than that you should do that which is acceptable to God, and save your own souls.”
Here his agitation was so great that he was obliged to pause, saying: “Now let me have some rest in this tempest.” Then resuming his discourse:
“But what, what, O Lord! will be the reward in the life to come to be given to those who have come victorious out of such a fight? It will be that which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard—eternal beatitude. And what is to be the reward in the present life? The servant will not be greater than his master, is the answer of our Lord. Thou knowest that, after I had taught, I was crucified, and thus thou wilt suffer martyrdom. O Lord, Lord!” he then exclaimed, with a loud voice that echoed throughout the church, “grant me this martyrdom, and let me die quickly for thy sake, as thou diedst for me. Already I see the axe sharpened. But the Lord says to me: Wait yet awhile, until that be finished which is to come to pass, and then thou shalt show that strength of mind which will be given unto thee.”
HIS VISIONS AND PROPHECIES.
He then resumed the explanation of a psalm at the verse Laudate Dominum quia bonus, and declaimed in a burst of ecstatic excitement, which carried his hearers along with him, sobbing and weeping. It was by passages like these, in which the magnetic attraction of the speaker’s features, voice, and gestures predominated, that his hearers were most affected. And this readily explains the fact that, when we read his sermons as reported by those present, it is difficult to invest the words with the tremendous effects they seem to have produced. This state of ecstasy which seized him in the pulpit frequently followed him to his solitary cell, where, for days and nights together, he would remain the sleepless victim of visions, until sleep happily released him. From his youthful days, he had made himself familiar with all that S. Thomas Aquinas says of angels and prophets and of their visions, and, in like manner, with all the dreams and visions of the prophets and patriarchs as related in the Old Testament. All these filled his mind, and at night reproduced themselves with the vividness of original revelations. They increased upon him as he read the Bible and the Fathers more assiduously, and he accepted them as divine inspirations sent through the intervention of angels. It is difficult to believe the extent to which a blind faith and devotion to these visions had taken possession of all his faculties, when we look at the calm, decided, and practical manner in which he disposed of important questions of a merely mundane character, such as administration, finance, and civil government.
Savonarola has left on record the fullest account of the workings and condition of his own mind on the subject of his visions and prophecies, in two works—Dialogo della Verita Profetica (Dialogue on Prophetic Truth), and Compendium Revelationum.
WAS SAVONAROLA A PROTESTANT?
In these works, Savonarola reveals himself without reserve on the important subject of the prophecies and visions, and lays bare his inmost heart. This is a part of his biography we would gladly treat at length, for the reason that one of the accusations against him is that of insincerity, bad faith, and deception of the people by abusing their credulity. We must, however, content ourselves with the remark that, although these works may afford some proof of an overheated imagination and an overexcited mind, they certainly afford none whatever of any thought or impulse of their author not perfectly sincere and loyal. His two German Protestant biographers, Rudelbach and Meyer, to their honor be it said, were the first to study these prophetic writings of Savonarola. Their views diverge but slightly, both seeking to show that he was a Protestant—a question now scarcely worth while discussing, notwithstanding the impertinent assertion of the Luther monument at Worms. In this connection, we may here cite the opinion of a late writer on Savonarola, a distinguished English Protestant:[165] “So that the effort made by some of the German biographers, more especially Meyer, who artistically concocts a complete system of Protestant dogmatics from his works, appears to be injudicious; and we must come to the only reasonable conclusion: that, though he (Savonarola) is now claimed both by Catholics and Protestants, he lived and died in that church in which he was reared, and which he would not have destroyed, but purified.”[166]
PARTIES AND FACTIONS.
When we speak of the respect and veneration entertained for Savonarola by the population of Florence, we must not for a moment suppose he was any exception to the rule that the presence of a good man is a reproach to the depraved, or that Florence, like Athens, had not within her walls those who were tired of hearing a man called just. The Medici had still a large body of adherents in the city—men who, whether they preferred or not an oligarchy to a republic, still regretted the offices or emoluments they had lost—were themselves of the aristocracy, or sympathized with it. Then came many of the amnestied, who, themselves pardoned, did not therefore forgive others. Then, too, those who felt themselves thwarted in their license or licentiousness by the changed state of public morality. The dominant party—that of the Frate—went by the name of the Frateschi. A smaller party, composed of those who were not personally his adherents, but were in favor of a republic, were called Bianchi (white); another and larger party, made up of partisans of the Medici, most of them amnestied, were called Bigi (grays), and, while outwardly favorable to Savonarola, were his bitter and unrelenting enemies, in constant correspondence with Piero de’ Medici, whose return was the object of all their devices and plots. The partisans of the oligarchy, so active in their endeavors to defeat the new government, and bent on getting the power into their own hands, and establish a pretended republic under aristocratic rule, were naturally opposed to both Savonarola and the Medici. They had contemptuously bestowed the name of Piagnoni (Mourners) on the followers of Savonarola, and, from their known bitter hatred, were themselves called the Arrabiati (rabid or infuriated). Carefully avoiding any opposition to the republic, they sought by every means to cast discredit on Savonarola, to throw ridicule upon his visions and prophecies, to create discontent with his reforms, and to foster a spirit of criticism and dislike against him. The accidental elevation to the office of Gonfaloniere of a man unfit for it—Filippo Corbizzi—was seized by them as an opportunity to attack Savonarola as early as 1495. At their instigation, he called together at the Palazzo a sort of theological council of theologians, abbots, priors, etc., before whom a charge of intermeddling in the affairs of state was laid against Savonarola. The council was opened, and the discussion commenced, when, by the merest accident, Savonarola, in entire ignorance of what was taking place, entered the hall with his friend Fra Domenico, of Pescia. He was instantly assailed with words of abuse and invective, and a Dominican monk of Santa Maria Novella, who had some reputation as a theologian, made a violent speech against him. Others followed the monk, and, when all were through, Savonarola, calmly rising, said: “In me you see verified the saying of our Lord: Filii matris meæ pugnaverunt contra me.[167] It truly grieves me to see my fiercest adversary wearing the dress of S. Dominic. That very dress ought to remind him that our founder himself was in no small degree occupied with the affairs of this world; and that from our order have gone forth a multitude of religious men and saints to take part in the affairs of state. The Florentine republic cannot have forgotten Cardinal Latino, San Pietro Martine, Santa Caterina of Sienna, nor Sant’ Antonino, all of whom belong to the Order of S. Dominic. A religious man is not to be condemned for occupying himself with the concerns of that world in which God has placed him. I defy any one to point out a single passage in the Bible condemnatory of our showing favor to a free government which is to promote the triumph of morality and religion.” And he thus concluded: “It is easy to see that religion ought not to be treated in profane places, and that theology is not a fit subject for discussion in this place.”
There was no attempt at reply, except from one, who cried out: “Tell us now frankly, Do you aver that your words come from God, or do you not?”
“That which I have said I have said openly; and I have nothing to add,” was Savonarola’s reply.
[SONNET]
TO THE PILLAR THAT STANDS BESIDE THE HIGH ALTAR AT “S. PAUL’S OUTSIDE THE WALLS,” ROME.[168]
BY AUBREY DE VERE.
A conqueror called thee from the eternal night,
And said, “Ascend from thy dark mother’s breast;
Sustain my glory on thy sunlike crest,
And by mine altar watch—an acolyte.”
A poet, wandering from Helvellyn’s height,
Beheld thee dead ere born. That Alpine guest
Adjured thee, “Where thou liest, forever rest,
And freeze those hearts that trust in mortal might.”
The years went by; then, clear above that cloud
Which blinds the nations, from her Roman throne
Thus spake the universal church aloud:
“Arise at last, thou long-expectant stone!
For God predestined, consummate thy vow:
Advance; and where the Apostle stood stand thou!”
[MADAME AGNES.]
FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES DUBOIS.