Rosselli To Melancthon.
It was in this latter city, on the hundred islets and amid the lagunes of the queen of the Adriatic, that the doctrine of the Gospel first raised its standard. There was no power in Europe more jealous of its independence and authority than Venice; the winged lion of St. Mark braved the priest of Rome; the senate rejected the Inquisition, practised freedom of inquiry, and did not license the pope’s edicts until after serious study and strict examination. Protestants were soon to be found at Venice who, strange to say, were more protestant than those of Augsburg. ‘I am delighted,’ said Luther, on the 7th of March, 1528, ‘to hear that they have received the Word of God at Venice.’[[799]] A report having got abroad that Melancthon appeared inclined, at the diet of 1530, to recognize the primacy of the Bishop of Rome, the new evangelicals of Venice were troubled and alarmed: one of them, Lucio Paolo Rosselli, although only a beginner in the Christian doctrine, determined to write, respectfully but frankly, to the illustrious doctor of Germany: ‘There are no books by any author,’ he said to Melancthon, ‘which please me more than those you have published. But if the reports which the papists circulate about you are true, the cause of the Gospel and those who, taught by the writings of yourself and Luther, have embraced it, are in great danger. All Italy awaits the result of your meeting at Augsburg.[[800]] O Melancthon! let neither threats, nor fears, nor prayers, nor promises make you desert the standard of Jesus Christ! Even if you must suffer death to maintain his glory, do not hesitate. It is better to die with honor than to live with ignominy.’
It was much worse when the Venetian ambassador at the court of Charles V. forwarded to the senate the letter which Melancthon had written on the 6th of July to Cardinal Campeggi, and in which he went so far as to say that the protestants did not differ from the Roman Church in any important dogma, and were disposed to acknowledge the papal jurisdiction.[[801]] The evangelical Christians of Venice, who wanted a decided position, were dismayed. Most of them denied that the letter was Melancthon’s; Rosselli, in particular, with generous enthusiasm, took up the doctor’s defence, and on the 1st of August sent him a copy of the letter, ‘to the end that he might carefully scrutinize the wickedness of those who ascribed to him words calculated to disgrace the true defenders of the cause of Christ and Christ himself.[[802]] Now that we have discovered their malice,’ added the Venetian, ‘resist their iniquity with greater zeal, and let the emperor and all Christian princes know the shameless practices of the enemy.’
What seemed impossible to the Italians was but too true: Melancthon had carried his concessions too far. When he declared, however, that he would not recognize the Bishop of Rome until he became evangelical, he had put a stipulation to his compact which rendered it impossible.
From Venice we pass to Turin. The Italian revival did not present that simple historical and continuous advance which we meet with in other European countries. It was not like a single river whose deep and mighty waters, as they flowed along, ran calmly in the same channel; but like little streams, issuing from the earth in various places, whose bright and limpid waters glittered in the sunbeam and fertilized the soil around them. They disappeared; they were lost in the ground, oftentimes, alas! imparting to it a sanguine hue, and the earth returned to its former barrenness. Yet many a plant had been revived by them, and their sweet remembrance may still cause joy to others.
Celio Curione.
The works of the reformers had reached Turin. Piedmont, from its vicinity to Switzerland, France, and Germany, was among the first to receive a glimpse of the sun which had just risen beyond the Alps. The Reformation had already appeared in one of its cities,—at Aosta,—and most of its doctrines had for ages been current among the Waldensian valleys. Monks of the Augustine convent at Turin, Hieronimo Nigro Foscianeo in particular, were among the number of those who first became familiar with the evangelical writings. Celio Secundo Curione, a young man still at college, received them from their hands in 1520.
About three leagues and a half from Turin, and at the foot of the Alps, was situated the town of Cirié, with its two parochial churches and an Augustine monastery. Higher up there stood an old castle named Cuori, and the family to which it belonged was called from it Curione or Curioni.[[803]] One of its members, Giacomino Curione, who lived at Cirié, had married Charlotte de Montrotier, lady of honor to Blanche, Duchess of Savoy, and sister to the chief equerry of the reigning duke. On the 1st of May, 1503, a son was born to them at Cirié; he was named Celio Secundo,[[804]] and was their twenty-third child.[[805]] He lost his mother as he came into the world, and his father, who had removed to Turin, and afterwards to Moncaglieri, where he had property, died when Celio was only nine years old.
The elder Curione possessed a Bible, which in the hour of death he put into his son’s hands. That act was perhaps the cause of the love for Scripture by which the heir of the Curiones was afterwards distinguished: the depth of his filial piety made him look upon the book as a treasure before he knew the value of its contents. Celio having begun his education at Moncaglieri, went to Turin, where his maternal grandmother, Maddalena, lived. She received him into her house, where the anxious love of the venerable lady surrounded him with the tenderest care.[[806]] He is said to have dwelt on that pleasant hill which overlooks Turin, whence the summits of the Alps are visible, and whose base is washed by the slow and majestic waters of the Po.[[807]] Celio had applied with his whole heart to the study of the classical orators, poets, historians, and philosophers; when he reached his twentieth year he felt deeper longings, which literature was incapable of satisfying. The old Bible of his father could do this: a new world, superior to that of letters and philosophy,—the world of the spirit,—opened before his soul.
There was much talk just then, both in university and city, of the Reformation and the reformers. Curione had often heard certain priests and their partisans bitterly complaining of the ‘false doctrines’ of those heretics, and making use of the harshest language against Luther and Zwingle. He listened to their abuse, but was not convinced. He possessed a nobler soul than the majority of the people around him, and his generous independent spirit was more disposed in favor of the accused than of the accusers. Instead of joining in this almost unanimous censure, Celio said to himself: ‘I will not condemn those doctors before I have read their works.’[[808]] It would appear that he was already known in the Augustine convent, in which, as in that of Wittemberg, some truly pious men were to be found. The grace of his person, the quickness of his intellect, and his ardent thirst for religious knowledge, interested the monks. Knowing that they possessed some of the writings of the reformers, Curione asked for them, and Father Hieronimo lent him Luther’s Babylonian Captivity, translated into Italian under a different title. The young man carried it away eagerly to his study. He read those vigorous pages in which the Saxon doctor speaks of the lively faith with which the Christian ought to cling to the promises of God’s Word; and those in which he asserts that neither bishop nor pope has any right to command despotically the believer who has received Christian liberty from God. But Celio had not yet obtained light enough; he carried the book back to the convent, and asked for another. Melancthon’s Principles of Theology and Zwingle’s True and False Religion were devoured by him in turn.