Editions of different portions of the Scriptures were from time to time prepared in the various presses of Italy. Doubts were suggested concerning the correctness of the authorized versions. While correcting the barbarisms of language, the pen was inadvertently carried to the errors of interpretation. These studies were encouraged, not only by the learned and the patrons of learning, but received new vigor from the approbation of the church itself.

Nor was this ardor confined to the learned languages. Italian versions of the New Testament had long circulated among those, who, from a love of the truths of Scripture, or a partiality for their native language, were disposed to read them. At first, the productions of men who ventured not to depart from the readings of the Vulgate, they contributed but little to the discovery or correction of errors. Still, the fact, that the Scripture existed in the vulgar idiom, and the perusal of it was not forbidden by the guardians of the Roman dogma, facilitated the introduction of exacter translations, and gave a plausible coloring to the arguments of those by whom they were made. The science which had been so successfully directed to the original texts, was, in the sequel, zealously applied to the correction of the Italian translations; and the number of the laborers who engaged in this field during the last half of the fifteenth and the first of the sixteenth centuries, prove not only the zeal of the teacher, but the ardor with which his lessons were received.

Literary curiosity, once excited, soon breaks through all restraint, and the mind which would have been the first to shrink back in the beginning of the research, is often the most ardent in the prosecution of it, when its confidence has been once shaken in its old convictions, and it is then hurried on by that necessity for belief, which forms the very basis of our intellectual nature. It cannot go calmly back to the views, which have once proved insufficient to satisfy its longings. It cannot throw off that sense of responsibility, which seems to acquire new force from every candid exertion of reason. And as, one by one, its early convictions fall from around it, it still moves on, more ardent than ever for something that it can believe, trust, cling to, in the cold and boundless space that expands to its view.

Thus, the studies which had been so warmly engaged in, in Italy, received a new impulse from the breaking out of the

Reformation in Germany. Many Italians began to frequent the universities of that country, where the doctrines of reform were taught with all the fervor which arises from newly awakened conviction, and the boldness which accompanies security from persecution. The new views of theology usurped, for many, the place of every other pursuit, and the minds of the students became inflamed with the same zeal that animated their masters. Nor was the knowledge of these doctrines confined to those who imbibed them in the schools of Germany. The works of Luther, and Melancthon, and Zuinglius were circulated, with greater precautions, it is true, but with nearly the same success which had attended them beyond the Alps. Studied in the convents, in the schools, in Rome itself, they were often read and applauded by those, who, when they became aware of their real import, directed against them the attacks of the bitterest persecution. From the study of the writings of the Reformers, the transition to a correspondence with the writers themselves was both easy and natural. Some sought them out as men of great learning; others, as teachers of the true principles of theology. Thus, a new and broad path was opened for the introduction of the Reformation.

While the doctrines of Luther were thus gaining ground within the hallowed domains of the Church, the attention of the court of Rome, notwithstanding the earnest remonstrances of many of its devoted followers, had hardly been excited by the rapid progress of the danger that threatened it. And, when, at length, arousing from its lethargy, it began to examine the means and forces of its adversary, and seek out the measures best adapted to check or to crush them, its first steps were made with a rashness and precipitation, which can be discovered in no previous epoch of its annals. Political causes, of unprecedented weight, then came to unite their influence against the will of the Pontiff, and paralyse his efforts. The greater part of Italy was overrun by the Imperial troops. Rome was taken by assault, and the Pope was compelled to fly from the impotent thunders of the Vatican, to the narrow fortress of St. Angelo. An army, composed in a great measure of Protestants, was thus triumphant within the walls of the capital of Catholicism; and the praises of Luther and of Melancthon resounded, where, for ages, had been celebrated the proudest ceremonies of the Church. The arms of the Emperor were

at length withdrawn, and Rome once more returned to the yoke of her ancient sovereigns; but years of watchful tyranny could alone destroy the seeds, which had spread and taken root in the compass of a few short months.

While the power of the Pope was thus shaken by the arms of an Emperor, who pretended to be the most ardent defender of the Catholic faith, the eyes of all Christendom were fixed upon Rome with doubt and amaze. It seemed as if the fatal hour of that ancient and dreaded monarchy had come. The voice of reproach and reclamation, so long neglected, had at length been heard; and the throne, from which so many bold decrees, so many daring enterprises, so many dreaded anathemas had proceeded, seemed shaken from its foundations. Some rejoiced in the prospect of approaching freedom; some trembled at the thought of the rich sources of gain which were to be for ever closed. Princes gazed with varying sensations of hope and fear, according to the fluctuations of their individual interests; the people, with joy or horror, as they recognised the hand of an avenging Providence, or feared that the face of the Almighty had been turned from them for ever. "Whence," cried the Bishop of Lipari, struck with a conviction, that not even the presence of the Pope and Cardinals could repress, whence come these ills? Why are we subjected to so many misfortunes? It is for the corruption of the human race; it is, because we are no longer the citizens of Rome the holy, but of Babylon, the city of wickedness. The words of Isaiah have been fulfilled, 'How has the faithful become a wanton!""

In the mean while, the progress of reform, no longer restrained by the opposition of the Roman Church, increased in extension and rapidity in every part of Italy; and the minds of many began to yield, whom a sincere attachment to Catholicism had hitherto embittered against the doctrines of Luther.

The first in the list of the protectors of Reform was a member of the royal house of France, who had been placed by marriage upon the ducal throne of Ferrara. The princess Renata had imbibed the principles of Luther, in the court of the king of Navarre; and, upon her removal to Ferrara, she extended her patronage towards them with the spirit and zeal which marked her character. Those of her countrymen, whom the rigor or dread of religious persecution had driven from

France, were received and protected at her court. Clement Marot, distinguished both as a Protestant and a poet, was elevated to the rank of her private secretary. Many others were met with a judicious patronage, which, while it won their affections, and consoled them amid the sorrows of exile, secured them, at the same time, from the attacks of courtly jealousy or ecclesiastical persecution. Calvin, under an assumed name, passed several months at Ferrara, in free and confidential communication with the Duchess. The propagation of her favorite doctrines was rendered still more sure, by the introduction into the principal chairs of the University, of many who had secretly adopted or warmly favored them; and, while these contributed to the extension of their principles by their public lessons, the minds of the future rulers of Ferrara were prepared to view them with favor by the instructions of their private tutors. Ferrara was the school of Protestantism in Italy; and there was scarcely one of its distinguished partisans, who was not for a greater or less period, a sharer in the protection of Renata.

Nor was the success of the Reformation less rapid in the neighbouring city of Modena. It was not secured here, as in Ferrara, by the protection of a princess, but was owing, in a great measure, to the free discussions of a society of men distinguished for their attainments in science and literature. The study and interpretation of the Scriptures occupied every mind; and the teachers of the Reformed religion, venturing beyond the bounds which had restrained their brethren of Ferrara, united their auditors into regular assemblies, and enjoyed for a time the open exercise of their rights, with all the advantages of a free religious communion.

In a sketch like the present, it would be useless to trace the course of the reform from city to city, as it extended with various degrees of success through the different states of Italy. Subject to the influences of political and individual interest, encountering at times the firm opposition of sincere conviction, at others, the virulent attacks of selfish hatred, it moved in some places with the boldness of a successful revolutionist, in others, with the cautious secrecy of a determined but prudent reformer. In Bologna it embraced in its ranks many of the brightest names of the University, as well as some of the most distinguished citizens. A correspondence was warmly carried on with the Reformers of Germany; and, had the

struggle between the two sects broken out into open warfare, one of the new converts was prepared to defend his faith with the swords of six thousand men, raised and supported at his own expense. Among the early converts of Naples, we meet the names of Ochino, a monk of the austere order of Capuchins, and one of the most renowned preachers of his age; of Mollio and Martire, who in the silence of the cloister had stored their minds with the profoundest erudition; and of Valdes, who in the public capacity of viceroy to the kingdom, possessed the means of protecting those whom his arguments and persuasions had converted. And here we may remark, that if the alleged corruptions of the church were nowhere carried to so great an excess as within the walls of its convents, it was from the quiet repose of the same institutions that arose the noblest advocates of reform. Strange and mysterious contradiction! that the source which had corrupted, should be the foremost to purify; that the same soil which had produced the poison, should raise up the antidote by its side!

Of all the states of Italy, there was none from which the friends of reform might have so justly looked for encouragement and protection, as the republic of Venice. This wonderful nation, the course and principles of whose government differed so widely from those of every other, seldom allowed any consideration of regard for foreign powers to influence its domestic policy. Innumerable had been the artifices, unwearied the efforts of the Roman pontiffs, to extend their control over the state of Venice, as they had succeeded in doing throughout the rest of Europe. But the Venetian senate, with an equal share of constancy, and a boldness not diminished by any excess of superstition,* had from the earliest periods

*In fact, no government was less superstitious; and the only question that could arise, would be whether it did not incline too evidently to the opposite extreme. Such, at least, was the opinion of some of the popes. The following anecdote was related to us by the great Italian historian of our age, and may serve in corroboration of the above statement. During one of the numerous contests between the Venetian Senate and the Holy See, the ambassador of the republic, in a private audience, so far excited the indignation of the Pope, that he at last broke through all bounds, and accused the Venetians of being nearly infidels. "Voi altri signori Veneziani appena credete alla santissima Trinità," gridò il pontefice. "E le par poco, Santità? was the reply of the ambassador. "You Venetians hardly believe in the Holy Trinity!' "And does your Holiness think that little?"

VOL. XLIV.

NO. 94.

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