He first shows that ‘the disciples of Jesus were not deceivers;’[18] and he supports this by examining, in a separate chapter, ‘in what spirit the disciples of Christ laboured;’[19] concluding, after a careful analysis of the Acts of the Apostles and the Epistles, that they did not seek their own advantage or honour but ‘the glory of Christ alone.’ Then he shows that ‘the disciples of Christ were not deceived by anyone,’[20] and that the Christian religion was founded, not in human wisdom, but ‘in the wisdom and power of God;’[21] that Christ was ‘no astrologer,’ but ‘derived his authority from God.’[22] He adduced further the evidence of miracles, in which he had no difficulty in believing, for he gave two instances of miracles which had occurred in Florence only four years previously, and in which he declared to Lorenzo de’ Medici, that, philosopher as he was, he believed.[23] After citing the testimony of some Gentile writers, and of the Coran of the Mahometans, and discussing in the light of Plato, Zoroaster, and Dionysius, the doctrine of the ‘logos,’ and the fitness of the incarnation, he showed that the result of the coming of Christ was that men are drawn to love with their whole heart a God who in his immense love had himself become man.[24] After dwelling on the way in which Christ lightened the burden of sin,[25] on the errors he dispelled, the truths he taught,[26] and the example he set,[27] Ficino proceeds in two short chapters to adduce the testimony of the ‘Sibyls.’[28] This was natural to a writer whose bias it was to regard as genuine whatever could be proved to be ancient. But it is only fair to state that he relies much more fully and discusses at far greater length the prophecies of the Ancient Hebrew prophets,[29] vindicating the Christian rendering of certain passages in the old Testament against the Jews, who accused the Christians of having perverted and depraved them.[30] He concludes by asserting, that if there be much in Christianity which surpasses human comprehension, this is a proof of its divine character rather than otherwise. These are his final words. ‘If these things be divine, they must exceed the capacity of any human mind. Faith (as Aristotle has it) is the foundation of knowledge. By faith alone (as the Platonists prove) we ascend to God. “I believed (said David) and therefore have I spoken.” Believing, therefore, and approaching the fountain of truth and goodness we shall drink in a wise and blessed life.’[31]
Christianity a thing of the heart.
Thus was the head of the Platonic Academy at Florence turning a critical eye upon Christianity, viewing it very possibly too much in the light of the lamp kept continually burning before the bust of Plato, but still, I think, honestly endeavouring, upon its own intrinsic evidence and by inductive methods, to establish a reasonable belief in its divine character in minds sceptical of ecclesiastical authority, and over whom the dogmatic methods of the Schoolmen had lost their power.[32] Nevertheless Ficino, as yet, was probably more of an intellectual than of a practical Christian, and Christianity was not likely to take hold of the mind of Italy—of re-awakening Europe—through any merely philosophical disquisitions. The lamp of Plato might throw light on Christianity, but it would not light up Christian fire in other souls. For Christianity is a thing of the heart, not only of the head. Soul is kindled only by soul, says Carlyle; and to teach religion the one thing needful is to find a man who has religion.[33] Should such a man arise, a man himself on fire with Christian love and zeal, his torch might light up other torches, and the fire be spread from torch to torch. But, until such a man should arise, the lamp of philosophy must burn alone in Florence. Men might come from far and near to listen to Marsilio Ficino—to share the patronage of Lorenzo de’ Medici, to study Plato and Plotinus,—to learn how to harmonise Plato and Aristotle, to master the Greek language and philosophies,—to drink in the spirit of reviving learning—but, of true Christian religion, the lamp had not yet been lit at Florence, or if lit it was under a bushel.
Oxford students in Italy.
Already Oxford students had been to Italy, and returned full of the new learning. Grocyn, one of them, had for some time been publicly teaching Greek at Oxford, not altogether to the satisfaction of the old divines, for the Latin of the Vulgate was, in their eye, the orthodox language, and Greek a Pagan and heretical tongue. Linacre, too, had been to Italy and returned, after sharing with the children of Lorenzo de’ Medici the tuition of Politian and Chalcondyles.[34]
These men had been to Italy and had returned, to all appearances, mere humanists. Now five years later Colet had been to Italy and had returned, not a mere humanist, but an earnest Christian reformer, bent upon giving lectures, not upon Plato or Plotinus, but upon St. Paul’s Epistles. What had happened during these four years to account for the change?
III. COLET’S PREVIOUS HISTORY (1496).
Colet’s return from Italy.
John Colet was the eldest[35] son of Sir Henry Colet, a wealthy merchant, who had been more than once Lord Mayor of London,[36] and was in favour at the court of Henry VII. His father’s position held out to him the prospect of a brilliant career. He had early been sent to Oxford, and there, having passed through the regular course of study in all branches of scholastic philosophy, he had taken his degree of Master of Arts.
His studies at Oxford.