Bernardino Occhino, born at Sienna in 1487, four years younger than Luther and Zwingle, and twenty-one years older than Calvin, was the most famous preacher of the age. In his sermons were to be found that elegance, that choice of words and those turns of expression which produce clearness, grace, and facility of style; but at the same time he was not void of imagination or enthusiasm, and possessed a boldness of language which surprises and carries away those who listen to it. Without being one of those firm, solid spirits who search into all knowledge, and weigh and measure all thoughts, he had strong religious cravings, and as he was moved himself, he moved his hearers. ‘From the very beginning of my life,’ he said, ‘I had a great longing for the heavenly paradise.’ He determined to win it, but went astray on the road. His studies were imperfect; he knew little Greek and no Hebrew: his knowledge of Christian doctrine was neither deep nor extensive; he sometimes allowed himself to descend to trifles and even to contradictions; and without denying the essential doctrines of faith, he was found in the latter part of his life employing obscure and equivocal expressions concerning them. He inopportunely defended customs tolerated under the old covenant, but manifestly forbidden under the new, and thus drew down much affliction on his old age. Occhino was a great orator, but not a great divine.
Sienna, the rival of Florence in the Middle Ages, still possessed sufficient attractions to induce a young man to follow the career of letters or of honors; but Occhino’s mind took another direction. From his earliest youth, his religious feelings had inclined him to an ascetic life, and he sought peace for his soul in exercises of devotion. ‘I believe in salvation through works,’ he said, ‘through fasting, prayer, mortifications, and vigils. With the help of God’s grace we can, by means of these practices, satisfy the justice of God, obtain pardon for our sins, and merit heaven.’[[835]] Erelong his private macerations proved insufficient for him, and he became a monk. Every religious society approved of by Rome was holy in his eyes; but he joined the Observantine Franciscans, because that order was reputed to be stricter than the others. The youthful Bernardino soon found, like Luther, that the life of the cloister could not satisfy his need of holiness. He was discouraged, and, renouncing the pursuit of an object which he seemed unable to attain, he turned to the study of medicine, without however, leaving the convent. Some Franciscans, having separated from the order with the intention of forming a still stricter rule, under the name of Capuchins, Occhino thought he had found what he wanted, and, having joined them, gave himself up with all his strength to voluntary humiliation and the mortification of the senses. Eat not, touch not, taste not. If any new and stricter laws were drawn up by the chiefs of the order, he hastened to conform to them. He threw himself blindfold into a complicated labyrinth of traditions, disciplines, fastings, mortifications, austerities, and ecstasies. And when they were over, he would ask himself whether he had gained anything? Remaining ill at ease and motionless in his cell, he would exclaim: ‘O Christ! if I am not saved now, I know not what I can do more!’ The moment was approaching when he would feel that all these macerations were but ‘running knots, which bind at first and strangle at last.’[[836]]
This was in 1534, when Occhino was forty-seven years old. The agitations of his soul often inspired him, during his sermons, with those pathetic impulses which touch the heart; his superiors, wishing to turn his gifts to account, called him to the functions of the pulpit, and as he thus entered upon a new phase of life, a revolution was also effected in his thoughts. He turned away from the superstitious practices and paltry bonds of the monks and devotees, and approached the Holy Scriptures. Monastic discipline had increased his darkness: the Word was to bring him light. He felt the necessity of conscientiously preparing his sermons, and began to study the Bible. But, strange to say, Scripture, instead of making his work easier, embarrassed him at the very outset, made him uneasy, and even paralyzed him. A striking contrast presented itself to his mind. ‘I believe,’ he said, ‘that we must merit heaven by our works, while Scripture tells me that heaven is given by grace, because of the redemption through Jesus Christ.’ He tried for some time to reconcile these contradictory views; but, do what he would, Rome and the Bible remained diametrically opposed to each other; he determined in favour of Rome. To doubt that the pope’s teaching was divine would have been a crime. ‘The authority of the Church,’ he said in after years, ‘silenced my scruples.’ He applied again to his mortifications. It was all in vain: peace was a stranger to his soul.
Then he turned once more to what he had abandoned. He said to himself that, according to the universal opinion of Christendom, the Scriptures were given by God to show the path to heaven; and that if there was anywhere a remedy for the disease under which he felt himself suffering, it must be in God’s Book. He read its holy pages with entire confidence, and made every exertion to understand them. Erelong a new light broke upon him; a heavenly brightness was poured upon the mystery of Golgotha, and he was filled with unutterable joy. ‘Certainly,’ he said, ‘Christ by his obedience and death has fully satisfied the law of God and merited heaven for his elect. That is true righteousness, that is the true salvation.’[[837]] He did not advance any farther just then; for some time longer the Roman-Catholic Church was in his eyes the true Church, and the religious orders were holy institutions. He had found that peace which he had sought so long, and was satisfied.
Occhino’s Popularity.
The activity of his life increased, the fervor of his zeal augmented, his preaching became more spiritual and more earnest. He continued his itinerant ministry, and attracted still more the attention of the people of Italy. He always went on foot, though weak in body. His name filled the peninsula, and when he was expected in any city a multitude of people and even nobles and princes would go out to meet him. The principal men of the city would display a deep affection for him, pay him every honor, and not permit him to go and lodge in the wretched cell of a monastery, but force him to accept the brilliant hospitality of their mansions. The magnificence of these dwellings, the costly dresses of their inhabitants, and ‘all the pomp of the age,’ made no change in his humble and austere life. Sitting at the luxurious banquets of the great ones of this world, he would drink no wine and eat but of one dish, and that the plainest. Being conducted to the best chamber, and invited to repose in a soft and richly-furnished bed, in order to recruit himself after the fatigue of his journey, he would smile, stretch his threadbare mantle on the floor, and lie down upon it.
As soon as the news of his arrival became known, crowds of people would throng round him from all parts. ‘Whole cities went to hear him,’ says the Bishop of Amelia, ‘and there was no church large enough to contain the multitude of hearers.’[[838]] All eyes were fixed on him as soon as he entered the pulpit. His age, his thin pale face, his beard falling below the waist, his gray hair and coarse robe, and all that was known of his life, made the people regard him as an extraordinary man, indeed as a saint. Was there any affectation in these strange manners? Probably there was, for though a new creation had begun in him, the old nature was still very strong. He was not insensible to the glory that comes from man, and perhaps did not seek alone that which comes from God.
At length the great orator began to speak, and all the congregation hung upon his lips. He explained his ideas with such ease and grace, that even from the very beginning of his ministry, he charmed all who heard him. But after he had studied Scripture, there was more elegance, originality, and talent in his discourses. He made use of evangelical language, which penetrated the heart; and yet no one, unless he were a very subtle theologian, would dare ascribe new doctrines to him. The inward power which he had received touched their hearts; the movements of his eloquence carried away his hearers, and he led them where he pleased.[[839]] At Perugia, enemies embraced one another as they left the church, and renounced the family feuds which had been handed down through several generations. At Naples, when he preached for some work of charity, every purse was opened: one day he collected five thousand crowns—an enormous sum for those times. Even princes of the Church, such as Cardinal Sadolet and Cardinal Bembo, adjudged him the palm of popular eloquence: all voices hailed him as the first preacher of Italy.[[840]] We shall see him presently producing a religious revival at Naples. He was preceded and aided in that work by men who, although inferior to him in eloquence, were his superiors in knowledge and faith.
Character Of Peter Martyr.
At the time when the Word was thus sown, and was everywhere bearing fruit more or less, Florence, the land of the Medici, so illustrious from its attachment to letters and liberty, was not to be a barren soil. In the year 1500, the year in which Charles V. was born, a rich patrician named Stephen Vermigli had a son whom he named Peter Martyr in honor of Peter of Milan whom the Arians are said to have put to death for maintaining the orthodox faith, and to whom a church was dedicated near the house in which the child was born.[[841]] His mother, Maria Fumantina, an educated woman of meek and tranquil piety, devoted herself to her only son, taught him Latin in his earliest years, and poured into his heart that incorruptible spirit, which is of such great value before God. The boy early attended the public schools established for the Florentine youth, and was distinguished for the quickness of his understanding, the extent of his powers, the strength of his memory, and above all by such a thirst for learning that no difficulties could stop him. If Occhino possessed liveliness of feeling and imagination, Peter Martyr possessed solidity of judgment and depth of mind.