CHAPTER XIII.

THE BOLOGNESE SCHOOL OF PAINTERS.

Decline of Plastic Art--Dates of the Eclectic Masters--The Mannerists--Baroccio--Reaction started by Lodovico Caracci--His Cousins Annibale and Agostino--Their Studies--Their Academy at Bologna--Their Artistic Aims--Dionysius Calvaert--Guido Reni--The Man and His Art--Domenichino--Ruskin's Criticism--Relation of Domenichino to the Piety of His Age--Caravaggio and the Realists--Ribera--Lo Spagna--Guercino--His qualities as Colorist--His Terribleness--Private Life--Digression upon Criticism--Reasons why the Bolognese Painters are justly now neglected.

After tracing the origin of modern music at its fountain head in Palestrina, it requires some courage to approach the plastic arts at this same epoch.

Music was the last real manifestation of the creative genius in Italy. Rarefied to evanescent currents of emotional and sensuous out-breathings, the spirit of the race exhaled itself in song from human throats, in melody on lute and viol, until the whole of Europe thrilled with the marvel and the mystery of this new language of the soul. Music was the fittest utterance for the Italians of the Counter-Reformation period. Debarred from political activity, denied the liberty of thought and speech, that gifted people found an inarticulate vehicle of expression in tone; tone which conveys all meanings to the nerves that feel, advances nothing to the mind that reasons, says everything without formulating a proposition.

Only a sense of duty to my subject, which demands completion, makes me treat of painting in the last years of the sixteenth century. The great Italian cycle, rounded by Lionardo, Raffaello, Michelangelo, Correggio and Tiziano, was being closed at Venice by Tintoretto. After him invention ceased. But there arose at Bologna a school, bent on resuscitating the traditions of an art which had already done its utmost to interpret mind to mind through mediums of lovely form and color. The founders of the Bolognese Academy, like Medea operating on decrepit Aeson, chopped up the limbs of painting which had ceased to throb with organic life, recombined them by an act of intellect and will, and having pieced them together, set the composite machine in motion on the path of studied method. Their aim was analogous to that of the Church in its reconstitution of Catholicism; and they succeeded, in so far as they achieved a partial success, through the inspiration which the Catholic Revival gave them. These painters are known as the Eclectics and this title sufficiently indicates their effort to revive art by recomposing what lay before them in disintegrated fragments. They did not explore new territory or invent fresh vehicles of expression. They sought to select the best points of Graeco-Roman and Italian style, unconscious that the physical type of the Niobids, the voluptuous charm of Correggio, the luminous color of Titian, the terribleness of Michelangelo, and the serenity of Raphael, being the ultimate expressions of distinct artistic qualities, were incompatible. A still deeper truth escaped their notice--namely, that art is valueless unless the artist has something intensely felt to say, and that where this intensity of feeling exists, it finds for itself its own specific and inevitable form.

'Poems distilled from other poems pass away, The swarms of reflectors and the polite pass, and leave ashes; Admirers, importers, obedient persons, make but the soil of literature.'

These profound sentences are the epitaph, not only of imitative poetry, but also of such eclectic art as the Caracci instituted. Very little of it bears examination now. We regard it with listlessness or loathing. We turn from it without regret. We cannot, or do not, wish to keep it in our memory.

Yet no student of Italian painting will refuse the Caracci that tribute of respect which is due to virile effort. They were in vital sympathy with the critical and analytical spirit of their age--an age mournfully conscious that its scepter had departed--that

'Nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower;'

an age incapable as yet of acquiescing in this gloom, strenuously eager by study and by labor to regain the kingdom which belongs alone to inspiration. Science and industry enabled them to galvanize the corpse of art; into this they breathed the breath of the religion _à la mode_, of fashionable sensuousness and prevalent sentimentality.

Michelangelo died in 1564, Paolo Veronese in 1588, Tintoretto in 1594. These were the three latest survivors of the great generation, and each of them had enjoyed a life of activity prolonged into extreme old age. Their intellectual peers had long ago departed; Lionardo in 1520, Raphael in 1522, Correggio in 1534.

'Theirs was the giant race, before the flood.'

These dates have to be kept in mind; for the painters of the Bolognese School were all born after 1550, born for the most part at that decisive epoch of the Tridentine Council which might be compared to a watershed of time between the Renaissance and the Counter-Reformation--Lodovico Caracci in 1555, Agostino in 1558, Annibale in 1560, Guido Reni in 1574, Lionello Spada in 1576, Francesco Albani in 1578, Domenichino in 1581, Guercino in 1590.[213] With the last of these men the eclectic impulse was exhausted; and a second generation, derived in part from them, linked the painters of the Renaissance to those of modern times. It is sufficient to mention Nicholas and Gaspar Poussin, Claude Lorraine, Salvator Rosa, Luca Giordano, and Canaletto as chief representatives of this secondary group.[214]

On examining the dates which I have given, it will be noticed that the Bolognese Eclectics, intervening between the age of Michelangelo and the age of Nicholas Poussin, worked during the first fervor of the Catholic Revival. Their art may therefore be taken as fairly representative of the religious temper and the profane culture of the Italians in the period influenced by the Council of Trent. It represents that temper and that culture before the decline of the same influence, when the Counter Reformation was in active progress and the Papal pretensions to absolute dominion had received no check.

[Footnote 213: The three founders of the school were thus born precisely during the most critical years of the Council. They felt the Catholic reaction least. That expressed itself most markedly in Domenichino, born seventeen years after its close.]

[Footnote 214: Nich. Poussin, b. 1594; Claude, 1600; Gaspar Poussin, 1613; Salvator Rosa, 1615; Luca Giordano, 1632; Canaletto, 1697.]

We should be wrong, however, to treat the Eclectics as though they succeeded without interruption to that 'giant race, before the flood.' Their movement was emphatically one of revival; and revival implies decadence. After 1541, when Michelangelo finished the Last Judgment, and before 1584, when the Caracci were working on their frescoes in the Palazzo Fava at Bologna--that is to say, between the last of the genuine Renaissance paintings and the first of the Revival--nearly half a century elapsed, during which art sank into a slough of slovenly and soulless putrescence.[215] Every city of Italy swarmed with artists, adequately educated in technical methods, and apt at aping the grand style of their masters. But in all their work there is nothing felt, nothing thought out, nothing expressed, nothing imagined. It is a vast vacuity of meaningless and worthless brush-play, a wilderness of hollow trickery and futile fumbling with conventional forms. The Mannerists, as they were called, covered acres of palace and church walls with allegories, histories, and legends, carelessly designed, rapidly executed, but pleasing the eye with crowds of figures and with gaudy colors. Their colors are now faded. Their figures are now seen to be reminiscences of Raphael's, Correggio's, Buonarroti's draughtsmanship. Yet they satisfied the patrons of that time, who required hasty work, and had not much money wherewith to reward the mature labors of a conscientious student. In relation, moreover, to the spiritless and insincere architecture then coming into vogue, this art of the Mannerists can scarcely be judged out of place. When I divulge the names of Giorgio Vasari, Giuseppe Cesari (Cav. d'Arpino), Tempesta, Fontana, Tibaldi, the Zuccari, the Procaccini, the Campi of Cremona, the scholars of Perino del Vaga, I shall probably call up before the reluctant eyes of many of my readers visions of dreary wanderings through weariful saloons and of disconsolate starings up at stuccoed cupolas in Rome and Genoa, in Florence and Naples, and in all the towns of Lombardy.[216]

In an earlier volume I briefly sketched the development of this pernicious mannerism, which now deluged the arts of Italy. Only one painter, outside Venice, seems to have carried on a fairly good tradition. This was Federigo Baroccio (1528-1612), who feebly continued the style of Correggio, with a certain hectic originality, infusing sentimental pietism into that great master's pagan sensuousness. The mixture is disagreeable; and when one is obliged to mention Baroccio as the best in a bad period, this accentuates the badness of his contemporaries. He has however, historical value from another point of view, inasmuch as nothing more strongly characterizes the eclecticism of the Caracci than their partiality for Correggio.[217] Though I have no reason to suppose that Baroccio, living chiefly as he did at Urbino, directly influenced their style, the similarity between his ideal and theirs is certainly striking. It seems to point at something inevitable in the direction taken by the Eclectics.

[Footnote 215: I of course except Venice, for reasons which I have sufficiently set forth in Renaissance in Italy, vol. iii. p. 347. Long after other schools of Italy the Venetian was still only adolescent.]

[Footnote 216: I have not thought it worth while to write down more than a very few names of the Mannerists. Notice how often they worked in whole families and indistinguishable coteries.]

[Footnote 217: Everyone familiar with European picture-galleries will remember cabinet pieces by the Caracci, especially Ecce Homos, Pietàs, Agonies in the Garden, which look like copies from Correggio with a dash of added sentimentalism.]

Such was the state of art in Italy when Lodovico Caracci, the son of a Bolognese butcher, conceived his plan of replacing it upon a sounder system.[218] Instinct led him to Venice, where painting was still alive. The veteran Tintoretto warned him that he had no vocation. But Lodovico obstinately resolved to win by industry what nature seemed to have denied him. He studied diligently at Florence, Parma, Mantua, and Venice, founding his style upon those of Andrea del Sarto, Correggio, Titian, Parmigiano, Giulio Romano, and Primaticcio. When he again settled at Bologna, he induced his two cousins, Agostino and Annibale, the sons of a tailor, to join him in the serious pursuit of art. Agostino was a goldsmith by trade, already expert in the use of the burin, which he afterwards employed more frequently than the brush.[219] Of the three Caracci he was the most versatile, and perhaps the most gifted. There is a note of distinction and attainment in his work. Annibale, the youngest, was a rough, wild, hasty, and hot-tempered lad, of robust build and vigorous intellect, but boorish in his manners, fond of low society, and eaten up with jealousy. They called him the ragazzaccio, or 'lout of a boy,' when he began to make his mark at Bologna. Agostino presented a strong contrast to his brother, being an accomplished musician, an excellent dancer, a fair poet, fit to converse with noblemen, and possessed of very considerable culture. Lodovico, the eldest of the cousins, acted as mentor and instructor to the others. He pacified their quarrels, when Annibale's jealousy burst out; set them upon the right methods of study, and passed judgment on their paintings.

[Footnote 218: I have mainly used the encyclopedic work entitled Felsina Pittrice (Bologna, 1841, 2 vols.) for my study of the Eclectics. This is based upon the voluminous writings of the Count C.C. Malvasia, who, having been born in 1616, and having enjoyed personal intercourse with the later survivors of the Bolognese Academy, was able to bequeath a vast mass of anecdotical and other material to posterity. The collection contains critical annotations and additions by the hand of Zanotti and later art students, together with many illustrative documents of the highest value. Reading this miscellaneous repertory, we are forced to regret that the same amount of characteristic and authentic information has not been preserved about one of the greater schools of Italy--the Venetian, for example.]

[Footnote 219: He acquired a somewhat infamous celebrity by his obscene engravings in the style of Giulio Romano.]

Like Lodovico, the brothers served their first apprenticeship in art at Parma and Venice. Annibale's letters from the former place show how Correggio subdued him, and the large copies he there made still preserve for us some shadows of Correggio's time-ruined frescoes. At Venice he executed a copy of Titian's Peter Martyr. This picture, the most dramatic of Titian's works, and the most elaborate in its landscape, was destined to exercise a decisive influence over the Eclectic school. From the Caracci to Domenichino we are able to trace the dominant tone and composition of that masterpiece. No less decisive, as I have already observed, was the influence of Correggio's peculiar style in the choice of type, the light and shade, and the foreshortenings of the Bolognese painters. In some degree, the manner of Paolo Veronese may also be discerned. The Caracci avoided Tintoretto, and at the beginning of their career they derived but little from Raphael or Michelangelo. Theirs was at first a mainly Veneto-Lombardic eclecticism, dashed with something absorbed from Giulio Romano and something from the later Florentines. It must not however, be supposed that they confined their attention to Italian painters. They contrived to collect casts from antique marbles, coins, engravings of the best German and Italian workmanship, books on architecture and perspective, original drawings, and similar academical appliances. Nor were they neglectful of drawing from the nude, or of anatomy. Indeed, their days and nights were spent in one continuous round of study, which had for its main object the comparison of dead and living nature with the best specimens of art in all ages. It may seem strange that this assiduity and thoroughness of method did not produce work of higher quality. Yet we must remember that even enthusiastic devotion to art will not give inspiration, and that the most thorough science cannot communicate charm. Though the Caracci invented fresh attitudes and showed complete mastery of the human form, their types remained commonplace. Though their chiaroscuro was accurately based on that of Correggio, it lacked his aërial play of semitones. Though they went straight to Titian for color, they never approached Venetian lucidity and glow. There was something vulgar in their imagination, prosaic in their feeling, leaden in their frigid touch on legend. Who wants those countless gods and goddesses of the Farnese Gallery, those beblubbered saints and colossal Sibyls of the Bolognese Pinacoteca, those chubby cherubs and buxom nymphs, those Satyrs and S. Sebastians, to come down from the walls and live with us? The grace of Raphael's Galatea, the inspiration of Michelangelo's Genii of the Sistine, the mystery of Lionardo's Faun-S. John, the wilding grace of Correggio's Diana, the voluptuous fascination of Titian's Venus, the mundane seductiveness of Veronese's Europa, the golden glory of Tintoretto's Bacchus,--all have evanesced, and in their place are hard mechanic figures, excellently drawn, correctly posed, but with no touch of poetry. Where, indeed, shall we find 'the light that never was on sea or land' throughout Bologna?[220]

[Footnote 220: Malvasia has preserved, in his Life of Primaticcio, a sonnet written by Agostino Caracci, in which the aims of the Eclectics are clearly indicated. The good painter must have at his command Roman or classic design, Venetian movement and shadow, Lombard coloring, the sublimity of Michelangelo, the truth to nature of Titian, the pure and sovereign style of Correggio, Raphael's symmetry, Tibaldi's fitness and solidity, Primaticcio's erudite invention, with something of Parmigianino's grace (_Fels. Pittr._ vol. i. p. 129). Zanotti adds: 'This sonnet is assuredly one which every painter ought to learn by heart and observe in practice.']

Part of this failure must be ascribed to a radically false conception of the way to combine studies of nature with studies of art. The Eclectics in general started with the theory that a painter ought to form mental ideals of beauty, strength, dignity, ferocity, and so forth, from the observation of characteristic individuals and acknowledged masterpieces. These ideal types he has to preserve in his memory, and to use living persons only as external means for bringing them into play. Thus, it was indifferent who sat to him as model. He believed that he could invest the ugliest lump of living flesh with the loveliest fancy. Lodovico supplied Annibale Caracci with the fleshy back of a naked Venus. Guido Reni painted his Madonna's heads from any beardless pupil who came handy, and turned his deformed color-grinder--a man 'with a muzzle like a renegado'--into the penitent Magdalen.[221] It was inevitable that forms and faces thus evolved should bear the stamp of mediocrity, monotony, and dullness on them. Few, very few, painters--perhaps only Michelangelo--have been able to give to purely imagined forms the value and the individuality of persons; and he succeeded best in this perilous attempt when he designed the passionate Genii of the Sistine frescoes. Such flights were far beyond the grasp of the Eclectics. Seeking after the 'grand style,' they fell, as I shall show in the sequel of this chapter, into commonplace vacuity, which makes them now insipid.[222]

[Footnote 221: See Malvasia, _op. cit._ vol. i. p. 277; vol. ii. p. 57. The odd thing is that Malvasia tells these stories of the Lodovico-Aphrodite and the color-grinder-Magdalen with applause, as though they proved the mastery of Annibale Caracci and Guido.]

[Footnote 222: The later Eclectics--Spada, Domenichino, Guercino--were to some extent saved by the influences they derived from Caravaggio and the Naturalisti. But they had not the tact to see where the finer point of naturalistic art lies for a delicately minded painter. They added its brutality, as employed by Caravaggio, to the insipidities of the Caracci, and produced such horrors as Domenichino's Martyrdom of S. Agnes.]

There was at this time a native of Antwerp named Dionysius Calvaert, a coarse fellow of violent manners, who kept open school in Bologna. The best of the Caracci's pupils--Guido Reni, Domenichino and Albani--emigrated to their academy from this man's workshop. Something, as it seems to me, peculiar in the method of handling oil paint, which all three have in common, may perhaps be ascribed to early training under their Flemish master. His brutality drove them out of doors; and, having sought the protection of Lodovico Caracci, they successively made such progress in the methods of painting as rendered them the most distinguished representatives of the Bolognese Revival. All three were men of immaculate manners. Guido Reni, beautiful as a Sibyl in youth, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair complexion, was, to the end of his illustrious career, reputed a virgin. Albani, who translated into delicate oil-painting the sensuousness of the Adone, studied the forms of Nymphs and Venuses from his lovely wife, and the limbs of Amorini from the children whom she bore him regularly every year. Domenichino, a man of shy, retiring habits, preoccupied with the psychological problems which he strove to translate into dramatic pictures, doted on one woman, whom he married, and who lived to deplore his death (as she believed) by poison. Guido was specially characterized by devotion to Madonna. He was a singular child. On every Christmas eve, for seven successive years, ghostly knockings were heard upon his chamber door; and, every night, when he awoke from sleep, the darkness above his bed was illuminated by a mysterious egg-shaped globe of light.[223] His eccentricity in later life amounted to insanity, and at last he gave himself up wholly to the demon of the gaming-table. Domenichino obeyed only one passion, if we except his passion for the wife he loved so dearly, and this was music. He displayed some strangeness of temperament in a morbid dislike of noise and interruptions. Otherwise, nothing disturbed the even current of an existence dedicated to solving questions of art. Albani mixed more freely in the world than Domenichino, enjoyed the pleasures of the table and of sumptuous living, but with Italian sobriety, and expatiated in those spheres of literature which supplied him with motives for his coldly sensual pictures. Yet he maintained the credit of a thoroughly domestic, soundly natured, and vigorously wholesome man.

[Footnote 223: This tradition of Guido's childhood I give for what it is worth, from Malvasia, _op. cit._ vol. ii. p. 53. In after life, beside being piously addicted to Madonna-worship, he had a great dread of women in general and witches in particular. What some will call spiritual, others effeminate, in his mature work, may be due to the temperament thus indicated.]

I have thought it well thus to preface what I have to say about these masters, partly because critics of the modern stamp, trusting more to their subjective impressions than to authoritative records, have painted the moral characters of Guido and Domenichino in lurid colors, and also because there is certainly something in their work which leaves a painful memory of unhealthy sentiment, impassiveness to pain, and polished carnalism on the mind. It may incidentally be recorded that Lodovico Caracci, Guido Reni, and Francesco Albani are all of them, on very good authority, reported to have been even prudishly modest in their use of female models. They never permitted a woman to strip entirely, and Guido carried his reserve to such a pitch that he preferred to leave his studio door open while drawing from a woman.[224] Malevolence might suggest that this was only part and parcel of post-Tridentine hypocrisy; and probably there is truth in the suggestion. I certainly do not reckon such solicitous respect for garments entirely to their credit. But it helps us to understand the eccentric compound of sentiment, sensuality, piety, and uneasy morality which distinguished the age, and which is continually perplexing the student of its art.

[Footnote 224: Malvasia, _op. cit._ p. 53, p. 178. The latter passage is preceded by a discussion of the nude in art which shows how Malvasia had imbibed Tridentine morality in the middle of Italy glowing with Renaissance masterpieces.]

Of these three men, Guido was the most genially endowed. He alone derived a true spark from the previous age of inspiration. He wearies us indeed with his effeminacy, and with the reiteration of a physical type sentimentalized from the head and bust of Niobe. But thoughts of real originality and grace not seldom visited his meditations; and he alone deserved the name of colorist among the painters I have as yet ascribed to the Bolognese School.[225] Guido affected a cool harmony of blue, white, and deadened gold, which in the best pictures of his second manner--the Fortune, the Bacchus and Ariadne of S. Luke's in Rome, the Crucifixion at Modena--has a charm akin to that of Metastasio's silvery lyrics. The samson at Bologna rises above these works both in force of conception and glow of color. The Aurora of the Rospigliosi Casino attempts a wider scheme of hues, and is certainly, except for some lack of refinement in the attendant Hours, a very noble composition. The S. Michael of the Cappuccini is seductive by its rich bravura style; and the large Pietà in the Bolognese Gallery impresses our mind by a monumental sadness and sobriety of tone. The Massacre of the Innocents, though one of Guido's most ambitious efforts, and though it displays an ingenious adaptation of the Niobe to Raphael's mannerism, fails by falling between two aims--the aim to secure dramatic effect, and the aim to treat a terrible subject with harmonious repose.

[Footnote 225: Lo Spada and Guercino, afterwards to be mentioned, were certainly colorists.]

Of Albani nothing need be said in detail. Most people knew his pictures of the Four Elements, so neatly executed in a style adapting Flemish smoothness of surface to Italian suavity of line. This sort of art delighted the cardinals and Monsignori of the seventeenth century. But it has nothing whatsoever to say to and human soul.

On Domenichino's two most famous pictures at Bologna Mr. Ruskin has written one of his over-poweringly virulent invectives.[226] It is worth inserting here at length. More passionate words could hardly be chosen to express the disgust inspired in minds attuned to earlier Italian art by these once worshiped paintings. Mr. Ruskin's obvious injustice, intemperance, and ostentatious emphasis will serve to point the change of opinion which has passed over England since Sir Joshua Reynolds wrote. His denunciation of the badness of Domenichino's art, though expressed with such a clangor of exaggeration, fairly represents the feeling of modern students. 'The man,' he says, 'who painted the Madonna del Rosario and Martyrdom of S. Agnes in the gallery of Bologna, is palpably incapable of doing anything good, great, or right in any field, way, or kind whatsoever.... This is no rash method of judgment, sweeping and hasty as it may appear. From the weaknesses of an artist, or failures, however numerous, we have no right to conjecture his total inability; a time may come when he shall rise into sudden strength, or an instance occur when his efforts shall be successful. But there are some pictures which rank not under the head of failures, but of perpetrations or commissions; some things which a man cannot do or say without sealing forever his character and capacity. The angel holding the cross with his finger in his eye, the roaring, red-faced children about the crown of thorns, the blasphemous (I speak deliberately and determinedly) head of Christ upon the handkerchief, and the mode in which the martyrdom of the saint is exhibited (I do not choose to use the expressions which alone could characterize it), are perfect, sufficient, incontrovertible proofs that whatever appears good in any of the doings of such a painter must be deceptive, and that we may be assured that our taste is corrupted and false whenever we feel disposed to admire him. I am prepared to support this position, however uncharitable it may seem; a man may be tempted into a gross sin by passion, and forgiven; and yet there are some kinds of sins into which only men of a certain kind can be tempted, and which cannot be forgiven. It should be added, however, that the artistical qualities of these pictures are in every way worthy of the conceptions they realize. I do not recollect any instance of color or execution so coarse and feelingless.'

[Footnote 226: Modern Painters, vol. i. p. 87.]

We have only to think of the S. Agnes by Tintoretto, or of Luini's St. Catherine, in order to be well aware how far Domenichino, as a painter, deviated from the right path of art.[227]

[Footnote 227: I allude to the Tintoretto in S. Maria dell'Orto at Venice, and to the Luini in the Monastero Maggiore at Milan. Yet the model of Luini's S. Catherine was the infamous Contessa di Cellant, who murdered her husband and some lovers, and was beheaded for her crimes in Milan. This fact demonstrates the value of the model in the hands of an artist capable of using it.]

Yet we are bound to acquit him, as a man, of that moral obliquity which Mr. Ruskin seems to impute. Indeed, we know Domenichino to have been an unaffectedly good fellow. He was misled by his dramatic bias, and also by the prevalent religious temper of his age. Jesuitry had saturated the Italian mind; and in a former chapter I have dwelt upon the concrete materialism which formed the basis of the Jesuitical imagination. In portraying the martyrdom of S. Agnes as he has done, Domenichino was only obeying the rules of Loyola's Exercitia. That he belonged to a school which was essentially vulgar in its choice of type, to a city never distinguished for delicacy of taste, and to a generation which was rapidly losing the sense of artistic reserve, suffices to explain the crude brutality of the conceptions which he formed of tragic episodes.[228] The same may be said about all those horrible pictures of tortures, martyrdoms, and acts of violence which were produced by the dozen in Italy at this epoch. We turn from them with loathing. They inspire neither terror nor pity, only the sickness of the shambles. And yet it would be unjust to ascribe their unimaginative ghastliness to any special love of cruelty. This evil element may be rationally deduced from false dramatic instinct and perverted habits of brooding sensuously on our Lord's Passion, in minds deprived of the right feeling for artistic beauty.

[Footnote 228: When I assert that the age was losing the sense of artistic reserve, I wish to refer back to what I have written about Marino, the dictator of the age in matters of taste. See above, pp. 273, 274.]

Probably Domenichino thought that he was surpassing Titian's Peter Martyr when he painted his hard and hideous parody of that great picture. Yet Titian had already touched the extreme verge of allowable realization, and his work belonged to the sphere of higher pictorial art mainly by right of noble treatment. Of this noble treatment, and of the harmonious coloring which shed a sanctifying splendor over the painful scene, Domenichino stripped his master's design. What he added was grimace, spasm, and the expression of degrading physical terror.

That Domenichino could be, in his own way, stately, is proved by the Communion of S. Jerome, in which he rehandled Agostino Caracci's fine conception. Though devoid of charm, this justly celebrated painting remains a monument of the success which may be achieved by the vigorous application of robust intellectual powers to the working out of a well-conceived and fully developed composition. Domenichino's gigantic saints and Sibyls, with their fleshy limbs, red cheeks, and upturned eyes, though famous enough in the last century, do not demand a word of comment now.[229] So strangely has taste altered, that to our eyes they seem scarcely decorative.

[Footnote 229: Go to S. Andrea nella Valle in Rome, to study the best of them.]

While the Caracci were reviving art at Bologna in the way that I have described, Caravaggio in Rome opposed the Mannerists after his own and a very different fashion.[230] The insipidities of men like Cesari drove him into a crude realism. He resolved to describe sacred and historical events just as though they were being enacted in the Ghetto by butchers and fishwives. This reaction against flimsy emptiness was wholesome; and many interesting studies from the taverns of Italy, portraits of gamesters, sharpers, bravi and the like, remain to prove Caravaggio's mastery over scenes of common life.[231] But when he applied his principles to higher subjects, their vulgarity became apparent. Only in one picture, the Entombment in the Vatican, did he succeed in affecting imagination forcibly by the evident realization of a tragic scene. His martyrdoms are inexpressibly revolting, without appeal to any sense but savage blood-lust. It seems difficult for realism, either in literature or art, not to fasten upon ugliness, vice, pain, and disease, as though these imperfections of our nature were more real than beauty, goodness, pleasure, and health. Therefore Caravaggio, the leader of a school which the Italians christened Naturalists, may be compared to Zola.

[Footnote 230: Michelangelo Amerighi da Caravaggio (1569-1609).]

[Footnote 231: For the historian of manners in seventeenth-century Italy those pictures have a truly precious value, as they are executed with such passion as to raise them above the more careful but more lymphatic transcripts from beer-cellars in Dutch painting.]

A Spaniard, settled at Naples--Giuseppe Ribera, nicknamed Lo Spagnoletto--carried on Caravaggio's tradition. Spagnoletto surpassed his master in the brutally realistic expression of physical anguish. His Prometheus writhing under the beak of the vulture, his disembowelled martyrs and skinless S. Bartholomews, are among the most nauseous products of a masculine nature blessed with robust health. Were they delirious or hysterical, they would be less disgusting. But no; they are merely vigorous and faithful representations of what anybody might have witnessed, when a traitor like Ravaillac or a Lombard untore was being put to death in agony. His firm mental grip on cruelty, and the somber gloom with which he invested these ghastly transcripts from the torture-chamber, prove Ribera true to his Spanish origin. Caravaggio delighted in color, and was indeed a colorist of high rank, considering the times in which he lived. Spagnoletto rejoiced in somber shadows, as though to illustrate the striking sonnet I have quoted in another place from Campanella.[232]

[Footnote 232: See above, part I. p. 47.]

This digression upon the Naturalists was needed partly to illustrate the nature of the attempted revival of the art of painting at this epoch, and partly to introduce two notable masters of the Bolognese school. Lionello Spada, a street-arab of Bologna, found his way into the studio of the Caracci, where he made himself a favorite by roguish ways and ready wit. He afterwards joined Caravaggio, and, when he reappeared in Lombardy, he had formed a manner of his own, more resplendent in color and more naturalistic than that of the Caracci, but with less of realism than his Roman teacher's. If I could afford space for anecdotical details, the romance of Spada's life would furnish much entertaining material. But I must press on toward Guercino, who represents in a more famous personality this blending of the Bolognese and Naturalistic styles. Giovanni Francesco Barbieri got his nickname of Il Guercino, or the 'Squintling,' from an accident which distorted his right eye in babyhood. Born of poor parents, he was apprenticed to indifferent painters in Bologna at an early age, his father agreeing to pay for the boy's education by a load of grain and a vat of grapes delivered yearly. Thus Guercino owed far less to academical studies than to his own genius. Being Lodovico Caracci's junior by thirty-five years, and Annibale's by thirty, he had ample opportunities for studying the products of their school in Bologna, without joining the Academy. A generation lay between him and the first Eclectics. Nearly the same space of time separated Guercino from the founder of the Naturalists, and it was universally admitted in his lifetime that he owed to Caravaggio in coloring no less than he derived from the Caracci in sobriety and dignity of conception. These qualities of divergent schools Guercino combined in a manner marked by salient individuality. As a colorist, he approached the Tenebrosi--those lovers of surcharged shadows and darkened hues, whose gloom culminated in Ribera. But we note a fat and buttery impasto in Guercino, which distinguishes his work from the drier and more meager manner of the Roman-Neapolitan painters. It is something characteristic of Bologna, a richness which we might flippantly compare to sausage, or a Flemish smoothness, indicating Calvaert's influence. More than this, Guercino possessed a harmony of tones peculiar to himself, and strongly contrasted with Guido's silver-gray gradations. Guido's coloring, at its best, often reminds one of olive branches set against a blue sea and pale horizon in faintly amber morning light. The empurpled indigoes, relieved by smouldering Venetian red, which Guercino loved, suggest thunder-clouds, dispersed, rolling away through dun subdued glare of sunset reflected upward from the west. And this scheme of color, vivid but heavy, luminous but sullen, corresponded to what contemporaries called the Terribilità of Guercino's conception. Terribleness was a word which came into vogue to describe Michelangelo's grand manner. It implied audacity of imagination, dashing draughtsmanship, colossal scale, something demonic and decisive in execution.[233] The terrible takes in Guercino's work far lower flights than in the Sistine Chapel. With Michelangelo it soared like an eagle; with Guercino it flitted like a bat. His brawny saints are ponderous, not awe-inspiring.

[Footnote 233: But the men who used the word failed to perceive that what justified these qualities in Michelangelo's work was piercing, poignant, spiritual passion, of which their age had nothing.]

Yet we feel that the man loved largeness, massiveness, and volume; that he was preoccupied with intellectual problems; planning deeply, and constructing strongly, under conditions unfavorable to spiritual freedom.

Guercino lived the life of an anchorite, absorbed in studies, unwived, sober, pious, truthful, sincere in his commerce with the world, unaffectedly virtuous, devoted to his art and God. Some of his pictures bring forcibly before our minds the religious milieu created by the Catholic Revival. I will take the single instance of a large oil-painting in the Bolognese Gallery. It represents the reception of a Duke of Aquitaine into monastic orders by S. Bernard. The knightly quality of the hero is adequately portrayed; his piety is masculine. But an accessory to the main subject of the composition arrests attention. A monk, earnestly pleading, emphatically gesticulating, addresses himself to the task of converting a young squire. Perugino, or even Raphael, would have brought the scene quite otherwise before us. The Duke's consecration would of course have occupied a commanding place in the picture. But the episodes would have been composed of comely groups or animated portraits. Guercino, obedient to the religious spirit of the Counter-Reformation, compels sympathy with ecclesiastical propaganda.

Guido exercised a powerful influence over his immediate successors. Guercino felt it when he painted that soulless picture of Abraham and Hagar, in the Brera--the picture which excited Byron's admiration, which has been praised for its accurate delineation of a teardrop, and which, when all is reckoned, has just nothing of emotion in it but a frigid inhumanity. He competed with Guido in the fresco of the Lodovisi Aurora, a substantial work certainly, yet one that lacks the saving qualities of the Rospigliosi ceiling--grace and geniality of fancy.

In the history of criticism there are few things more perplexing than the vicissitudes of taste and celebrity, whereby the idols of past generations crumble suddenly to dust, while the despised and rejected are lifted to pinnacles of glory. Successive waves of aesthetical preference, following one upon the other with curious rapidity, sweep ancient fortresses of fame from their venerable basements, and raise upon the crests of wordy foam some delicate seashell that erewhile lay embedded in oblivious sand. During the last half-century, taste has been more capricious, revolutionary, and apparently anarchical than at any previous epoch. The unity of orthodox opinion has broken up. Critics have sought to display originality by depreciating names famous in former ages, and by exalting minor stars to the rank of luminaries of the first magnitude. A man, yet in middle life, can remember with what reverence engravings after Raphael, the Caracci, and Poussin were treated in his boyhood; how Fra Angelico and Perugino ruled at a somewhat later period; how one set of eloquent writers discovered Blake, another Botticelli, and a third Carpaccio; how Signorelli and Bellini and Mantegna received tardy recognition; and now, of late years, how Tiepolo has bidden fair to obtain the European grido. He will also bear in mind that the conditions of his own development--studies in the Elgin marbles, the application of photography to works of art, the publications of the Arundel Society, and that genius of new culture in the air which is more potent than all teaching, rendered for himself each oracular utterance interesting but comparatively unimportant--as it were but talk about truths evident to sight.

Meanwhile, amid this gabble of 'sects and schisms,' this disputation which makes a simple mind take refuge in the epigram attributed to Swift on Handel and Bononcini,[234] criticism and popular intelligence have been unanimous upon two points, first, in manifesting a general dislike for Italian art after the date of Raphael's third manner, and a particular dislike for the Bolognese painters; secondly, in an earnest effort to discriminate and exhibit what is sincere and beautiful in works to which our forefathers were unintelligibly irresponsive. A wholesome reaction, in one word, has taken place against academical dogmatism; and the study of art has been based upon appreciably better historical and aesthetical principles.

[Footnote 234: 'Strange that such difference should be 'Twixt tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee.']

The seeming confusion of the last half-century ought not, therefore, to shake our confidence in the possibility of arriving at stable laws of taste. Radical revolutions, however salutary, cannot be effected without some injustice to ideals of the past and without some ill-grounded enthusiasm for the ideals of the moment. Nor can so wide a region as that of modern European art be explored except by divers pioneers, each biassed by personal predilections and peculiar sensibilities, each liable to changes of opinion under the excitement of discovery, each followed by a coterie sworn to support their master's ipse dixit.

The chief thing is to obtain a clear conception of the mental atmosphere in which sound criticism has to live and move and have its being. 'The form of this world passes; and I would fain occupy myself only with that which constitutes abiding relations.' So said Goethe; and these words have much the same effect as that admonition of his 'to live with steady purpose in the Whole, the Good, the Beautiful.' The true critic must divert his mind from what is transient and ephemeral, must fasten upon abiding relations, _bleibende Verhältnisse_. He notes that one age is classical, another romantic; that this swears by Giotto, that by the Caracci. Meanwhile, he resolves to maintain that classics and romantics, the Caracci and Giotto, are alike only worthy of regard in so far as they exemplify the qualities which bring art into the sphere of abiding relations. One writer is eloquent for Fra Angelico, another for Rubens; the one has personal sympathy for the Fiesolan monk, the other for the Flemish courtier. Our true critic renounces idiosyncratic whims and partialities, striving to enter with firm purpose into the understanding of universal goodness and beauty. In so far as he finds truth in Angelico and Rubens, will he be appreciative of both.

Aristotle laid it down as an axiom that the ultimate verdict in matters of taste is 'what the man of enlightened intelligence would decide.' The critic becomes a man of enlightened intelligence, a [Greek: phronimos], by following the line of Goethe's precepts. In working out self-culture, he will derive assistance by the way from the commanding philosophical conception of our century. All things with which we are acquainted are in evolutionary process. Everything belonging to human nature is in a state of organic transition--passing through necessary phases of birth, growth, decline, and death. Art, in any one of its specific manifestations--Italian painting for example--avoids this law of organic evolution, arrests development at the fairest season of growth, averts the decadence which ends in death, no more than does an oak. The oak, starting from an acorn, nourished by earth, air, light, and water, offers indeed a simpler problem than so complex an organism as Italian painting, developed under conditions of manifold diversity. Yet the dominant law controls both equally.

It is not, however, in evolutions that we must seek the abiding relations spoken of by Goethe. The evolutionary conception does not supply those to students of art, though it unfolds a law which is permanent and of universal application in the world at large. It forces us to dwell on necessary conditions of mutability and transformation. It leads the critic to comprehend the whole, and encourages the habit of scientific tolerance. We are saved by it from uselessly fretting ourselves because of the ungodly and the inevitable; from mourning over the decline of Gothic architecture into Perpendicular aridity and flamboyant feebleness, over the passage of the scepter from Sophocles to Euripides or from Tasso to Marino, over the chaos of Mannerism, Eclecticism and Naturalism into which Italian painting plunged from the height of its maturity. This toleration and acceptance of unavoidable change need not imply want of discriminative perception. We can apply the evolutionary canon in all strictness without ignoring that adult manhood is preferable to senile decrepitude, that Pheidias surpasses the sculptors of Antinous, that one Madonna of Gian Bellini is worth all the pictures of the younger Palma, and that Dossi's portrait of the Ferrarese jester is better worth having than the whole of Annibale Caracci's Galleria Farnesina.[235] It will even lead us to select for models those works which bear the mark of adolescence or vigorous maturity, as supplying more fruitful sources for our own artistic education.

[Footnote 235: The great picture by Dosso Dossi, to which I have alluded, is in the Modenese gallery.]

Nevertheless, not in evolution, but in man's soul, his intellectual and moral nature, must be sought those abiding relations which constitute sound art, and are the test of right aesthetic judgment. These are such as truth, simplicity, sobriety, love, grace, patience, modesty, thoughtfulness, repose, health, vigor, brain-stuff, dignity of imagination, lucidity of vision, purity, and depth of feeling. Wherever the critic finds these--whether it be in Giotto at the dawn or in Guido at the evensong of Italian painting, in Homer or Theocritus at the two extremes of Greek poetry--he will recognize the work as ranking with those things from which the soul draws nourishment. At the same time, he may not neglect the claims of craftsmanship. Each art has its own vehicle of expression, and exacts some innate capacity for the use of that vehicle from the artist. Therefore the critic must be also sufficiently versed in technicalities to give them their due value. It can, however, be laid down, as a general truth, that while immature or awkward workmanship is compatible with aesthetic excellence, technical dexterity, however skillfully applied, has never done anything for a soulless painter.

Criticism, furthermore, implies judgment; and that judgment must be adjusted to the special nature of the thing criticised. Art is different from ethics, from the physical world, from sensuality, however refined. It will not, therefore, in the long run do for the critic of an art to apply the same rules as the moralist, the naturalist, or the hedonist. It will not do for him to be contented with edification, or differentiation of species, or demonstrable delightfulness as the test-stone of artistic excellence. All art is a presentation of the inner human being, his thought and feeling, through the medium of beautiful symbols in form, color, and sound. Our verdict must therefore be determined by the amount of thought, the amount of feeling, proper to noble humanity, which we find adequately expressed in beautiful aesthetic symbols. And the man who shall pronounce this verdict is, now as in the days of Aristotle, the man of enlightened intelligence, sound in his own nature and open to ideas. Even his verdict will not be final; for no one is wholly free from partialities due to the age in which he lives, and to his special temperament. Still, a consensus of such verdicts eventually forms that voice of the people which, according to an old proverb, is the voice of God. Slowly, and after many successive siftings, the cumulative votes of the phronimoi decide. Insurgents against their judgment, in the case of acknowledged masters like Pheidias, Michelangelo, Shakespeare, are doomed to final defeat, because this judgment is really based upon abiding relations between art and human nature.

Our hope with regard to the unity of taste in the future then is, that, all sentimental or academical seekings after the ideal having been abandoned, momentary theories founded upon idiosyncratic or temporary partialities exploded, and nothing accepted but what is solid and positive, the scientific spirit shall make men progressively more and more conscious of those _bleibende Verhältnisse_, more and more capable of living in the whole; also that, in proportion as we gain a firmer hold upon our own place in the world, we shall come to comprehend with more instinctive certitude what is simple, natural, and honest, welcoming with gladness all artistic products that exhibit these qualities. The perception of the enlightened man will then be the taste of a healthy person who has made himself acquainted with the laws of evolution in art and in society, and is able to test the excellence of work in any stage, from immaturity to decadence, by discerning what there is of truth, sincerity, and natural vigor in it.

This digression was forced upon me by the difficulty of properly appreciating the Bolognese Eclectics now. What would be the amused astonishment of Sir Joshua Reynolds, if he returned to London at the present moment, and beheld the Dagon of his esteemed Caracci dashed to pieces by the ark of Botticelli--Carpaccio enthroned--Raffaello stigmatized as the stone of stumbling and the origin of evil? Yet Reynolds had as good a right to his opinion as any living master of the brush, or any living masters of language. There is no doubt that the Bolognese painters sufficed for the eighteenth century, whose taste indeed they had created.[236] There is equally no doubt that for the nineteenth they are insufficient.[237] The main business of a critic is to try to answer two questions: first why did the epoch produce such art, and why did it rejoice in it?--secondly, has this art any real worth beyond a documentary value for the students of one defined historical period; has it enduring qualities of originality, strength, beauty, and inspiration? To the first of these questions I have already given some answer by showing under what conditions the Caracci reacted against mannerism. In the due consideration of the second we are hampered by the culture of our period, which has strongly prejudiced all minds against the results of that reaction.

[Footnote 236: The passage from Lodovico Caracci through Poussin to Reynolds is direct and unbroken. 'Poussin,' says Lanzi, 'ranked Domenichino directly next to Raffaello.' History of Painting in Italy, Engl. Tr. vol. iii. p. 84.]

[Footnote 237: Perhaps a generation will yet arise which shall take the Caracci and their scholars into favor, even as people of refinement in our own days find a charm in patches, powder, perukes, sedan-chairs, patchouli, and other lumber from the age despised by Keats. I remember visiting a noble English lady at her country seat. We drank tea in her room, decorated by a fashionable 'Queen Anne' artist. She told us that the quaintly pretty furniture of the last century which adorned it had recently been brought down from the attic, whither her fore bears had consigned it as tasteless--Gillow in their minds superseding Chippendale.]

The painting of the Eclectics was not spontaneous art. It was art mechanically revived during a period of critical hesitancy and declining enthusiasms. It was produced at Bologna, 'la dotta' or 'la grassa,' by Bolognese craftsmen. This is worth remembering; for except Guido Guinicelli and Francesco Raibolini, no natives of Bologna were eminently gifted for the arts. And Bologna was the city famous for her ponderous learning, famous also for the good cheer of her table, neither erudition nor savory meats being essential to the artist's temperament. The painting which emerged there at the close of the sixteenth century embodied religion and culture, both of a base alloy. The Christianity of the age was not naïve, simple, sincere, and popular, like that of the thirteenth century; but hysterical, dogmatic, hypocritical, and sacerdotal. It was not Christianity indeed, but Catholicism galvanized by terror into reactionary movement. The culture of the age was on the wane. Men had long lost their first clean perception of classical literature, and the motives of the mediaeval past were exhausted. Therefore, though the Eclectics went on painting the old subjects, they painted all alike with frigid superficiality. If we examine the lists of pictures turned out by the Caracci and Guercino, we shall find a pretty equal quantity of saints and Susannas, Judiths and Cleopatras, Davids and Bacchuses, Jehovahs and Jupiters, anchorites and Bassarids, Faiths and Fortunes, cherubs and Cupids. Artistically, all are on the same dead level of inspiration. Nothing new or vital, fanciful or imaginative, has been breathed into antique mythology. What has been added to religious expression is repellent. Extravagantly ideal in ecstatic Magdalens and Maries, extravagantly realistic in martyrdoms and torments, extravagantly harsh in dogmatic mysteries and the ecclesiastical parade of power, extravagantly soft in sentimental tenderness and tearful piety, this new religious element, the element of the Inquisition, the Tridentine Council, and the Jesuits, contradicts the true gospel of Christ. The painting which embodies it belongs to a spirit at strife with what was vital and progressive in the modern world. It is therefore naturally abhorrent to us now; nor can it be appreciated except by those who yearn for the triumph of ultramontane principles.

If we turn from the intellectual content of this art to its external manifestation, we shall find similar reasons for its failure to delight or satisfy. The ambition of the Caracci was to combine in one the salient qualities of earlier masters. This ambition doomed their style to the sterility of hybrids. Moreover, in selecting, they omitted just those features which had given grace and character to their models. The substitution of generic types for portraiture, the avoidance of individuality, the contempt for what is simple and natural in details, deprived their work of attractiveness and suggestion. It is noticeable that they never painted flowers. While studying Titian's landscapes, they omitted the iris and the caper-blossom and the columbine which star the grass beneath Ariadne's feet. The lessons of the rocks and chestnut-trees of his S. Jeromes Solitude were lost on them. They began the false system of depicting ideal foliage and ideal precipices--that is to say, trees which are not trees, and cliffs which cannot be distinguished from cork or stucco. In like manner, the clothes wherewith they clad their personages were not of brocade or satin or broadcloth, but of that empty lie called drapery. The purpled silks of Titian's Lilac Lady, in the Pitti, the embroidered hems of Boccaccini da Cremona, the crimson velvet of Raphael's Joanna of Aragon, Veronese's cloth of silver and shot taffety, are replaced by one monotonous nondescript stuff, differently dyed in dull or glaring colors, but always shoddy. Characteristic costumes have disappeared. We shall not find in any of their Massacres of the Innocents a soldier like Bonifazio's Dall'Armi. In lieu of gems with flashing facets, or of quaint jewels from the Oreficeria, they adorn their kings and princesses with nothing less elevated than polished gold and ropes of pearls. After the same fashion, furniture, utensils, houses, animals, birds, weapons, are idealized--stripped, that is to say, of what in these things is specific and vital.

It would be incorrect to say that there are no exceptions in Eclectic painting to this evil system. Yet the sweeping truth remains that the Caracci returned, not to what was best in their predecessors, but to what was dangerous and misleading.

The 'grand style,' in Sir Joshua's sense of that phrase, denoting style which eliminates specific and characteristic qualities from objects, replacing them by so-called 'ideal' generalities, had already made its appearance in Raphael, Correggio, and Buonarroti We even find it in Da Vinci's Last Supper. Yet in Raphael it comes attended with divine grace; in Correggio with faun-like radiancy of gladness; in Buonarroti with Sinaitic sublimity; in Da Vinci with penetrative force of psychological characterization. The Caracci and their followers, with a few exceptions--Guido at his best being the notablest--brought nothing of these saving virtues to the pseudo-grand style.

It was this delusion regarding nobility and elevation in style which betrayed so genial a painter as Reynolds into his appreciation of the Bolognese masters. He admired them; but he admired Titian, Raphael, Correggio, and Buonarroti more. And he admired the Eclectics because they developed the perilous part of the great Italian tradition. Just as Coleridge recommended young students of dramatic verse to found their style at first on Massinger rather than on Shakespeare, so Reynolds thought that the Caracci were sound models for beginners in the science of idealization. Shakespeare and Michelangelo are inimitable; Massinger and the Caracci exhibit the one thing needful to be learned, upon a scale not wholly unattainable by industry and talent. That was the line of argument; and, granted that the pseudo-grand style is a _sine quâ non_ of painting, Reynolds's position was logical.[238]

[Footnote 238: It is only because I am an Englishman, writing a popular book for English folk, that I thus spend time in noticing the opinions of Joshua Reynolds. Addressing a European audience in this year grace, I should not have thought of eddying about his obsolete doctrine.]

The criticism and the art-practice of this century have combined to shake our faith in the grand style. The spirit of the Romantic movement, penetrating poetry first, then manifesting itself in the reflective writings of Rio and Lord Lindsay, Ruskin and Gautier, producing the English landscape-painters and pre-Raphaelites, the French Realists and Impressionists, has shifted the center of gravity in taste. Science, too, contributes its quota. Histories of painting, like Kugler's, and Crowe and Cavalcaselle's, composed in an impartial and searching spirit of investigation, place students at a point of view removed from prejudice and academical canons of perfection. Only here and there, under special reactionary influences, as in the Dusseldorf and Munich schools of religious purists, has anything approaching to the eighteenth-century 'grand style' delusion reappeared.

Why, therefore, the Eclectics are at present pining in the shade of neglect is now sufficiently apparent. We dislike their religious sentiments. We repudiate their false and unimaginative ideality. We recognize their touch on antique mythology to be cold and lifeless. Superficial imitations of Niobe and the Belvedere Apollo have no attraction for a generation educated by the marbles of the Parthenon. Dull reproductions of Raphael's manner at his worst cannot delight men satiated with Raphael's manner at his best. Whether the whirligig of time will bring about a revenge for the Eclectics yet remains to be seen. Taste is so capricious, or rather the conditions which create taste are so complex and inscrutable, that even this, which now seems impossible, may happen in the future. But a modest prediction can be hazarded that nothing short of the substitution of Catholicism for science and of Jesuitry for truth in the European mind will work a general revolution in their favor.

CHAPTER XIV.

CONCLUSION.

The main Events of European History--Italy in the Renaissance--Germany and Reformation--Catholic Reaction--Its Antagonism to Renaissance and Reformation--Profound Identity of Renaissance and Reformation--Place of Italy in European Civilization--Want of Sympathy between Latin and Teutonic Races--Relation of Rome to Italy--Macaulay on the Roman Church--On Protestantism--Early Decline of Renaissance Enthusiasms--Italy's Present and Future.

I.

The four main events of European history since the death of Christ are the decline of Graeco-Roman civilization, the triumph of Christianity as a new humanizing agency, the intrusion of Teutonic and Slavonic tribes into the comity of nations, and the construction of the modern world of thought by Renaissance and Reformation.

As seems to be inevitable in the progress of our species, each of these changes involved losses, compensated by final gains; for humanity moves like a glacier, plastically, but with alternating phases of advance and retreat, obeying laws of fracture and regelation.

It would thus be easy to deplore the collapse of that mighty and beneficent organism which we call the Roman Empire. Yet without this collapse how could the Catholic Church have supplied inspiration to peoples gifted with fresh faculties, endowed with insight differing from that of Greeks and Romans?

It is tempting to lament the extinction of arts letters, and elaborated habits of civility, which followed the barbarian invasions. Yet without such extinction, how can we imagine to ourselves the growth of those new arts, original literatures, and varied modes of social culture, to which we give the names of mediaeval, chivalrous, or feudal?

It is obvious that we can quarrel with the Renaissance for having put an end to purely Christian arts and letters by imposing a kind of pagan mannerism on the spontaneous products of the later mediaeval genius. But without this reversion to the remaining models of antique culture, how could the European races have become conscious of historical continuity; how could the corrupt system of Papal domination have been broken by Reform; how, finally, could Science, the vital principle of our present civilization, have been evolved?

In all these instances it appears that the old order must yield place to the new, not only because the new is destined to incorporate and supersede it, but also because the old has become unfruitful. Thus, the Roman Empire, having discharged its organizing function, was decrepit, and classical civilization, after exhibiting its strength in season, was decaying when the Latin priesthood and the barbarians entered that closed garden of antiquity, and trampled it beneath their feet. Mediaeval religion and modes of thought, in like manner, were at the point of ossifying, when Humanism intervened to twine the threads of past and present into strands that should be strong as cables for the furtherance of future energy.

It is incontestable that the Reformation and the Counter-Reformation, each of them on different grounds antagonistic to the Renaissance, appear to have retarded that emancipation of the reason, begun by Humanism, which is still in progress. Nevertheless, the strife of Protestantism and Catholicism was needed for preserving moral and religious elements which might have been too lightly dropped, and for working these into the staple of the modern consciousness. The process of the last three centuries, attended as it has been by serious drawbacks to the Spanish and Italian peoples, and by a lamentable waste of vigor to the Teutonic nations, has yet resulted in a permeation of the modern compost with the leaven of Christianity. Unchecked, it is probable that the Renaissance would have swept away much that was valuable and deserved to be permanent. Nor, without the flux and reflux of contending principles by which Europe was agitated in the Counter-Reformation period, could the equipoise of reciprocally attracting and repelling States, which constitutes the modern as different from the ancient or the mediaeval groundwork of political existence, have been so efficiently established.

II.

Permanence and homogeneity are not to be predicated of 'anything that's merely ours and mortal.' We have missed the whole teaching of history if we wail aloud because Greek and Roman culture succumbed to barbarism, out of which mediaeval Christianity emerged; because the revival of learning diverted arts and letters in each Occidental nation from their home-plowed channels; because Protestant theologians and Spanish Jesuits impeded that self-evolution of the reason which Italian humanists inaugurated. No less futile were it to waste declamatory tears upon the strife of absolutism with new-fledged democracy, or to vaticinate a reign of socialistic terror for the immediate future. We have to recognize that man cannot be other than what he makes himself; and he makes himself in obedience to immutable although unwritten laws, whereof he only of late years became dimly conscious. It is well, then, while reflecting on the lessons of some deeply studied epoch in world-history, to regard the developments with which we have been specially occupied, no less than the ephemeral activity of each particular individual, as factors in a universal process, whereof none sees the issue, but which, willing or unwilling, each man helps to further. We shall then acknowledge that a contest between Conservatism and Liberalism, between established order and the order that is destined to replace it, between custom and innovation, constitutes the essence of vitality in human affairs. The nations by turns are protagonists in the drama of progress; by turns are doomed to play the part of obstructive agents. Intermingled in conflict which is active life, they contribute by their phases of declension and resistance, no less than by their forward movements, to the growth of an organism which shall probably in the far future be coextensive with the whole human race.

III.

These considerations are suggested to us by the subject I have handled in this work. The first five volumes were devoted to showing how Italy, in the Renaissance, elaborated a new way of regarding man and the world, a new system of education, new social manners, and a new type of culture for herself and Europe. This was her pioneer's work in the period of transition from the middle ages; and while she was engaged in it, all classes, from popes and princes down to poetlings and pedants, seemed for a while to have lost sight of Catholic Christianity. They were equally indifferent to that corresponding and contemporary movement across the Alps, which is known as Reformation. They could not discern the close link of connection which binds Renaissance to Reformation. Though at root identical in tendency towards freedom, these stirrings of the modern spirit assumed externally such diverse forms as made them reciprocally repellent. Only one European nation received both impulses simultaneously. That was England, which adopted Protestantism and produced the literature of Spenser, Bacon, and Shakespeare at the same epoch. France, earlier than England, felt Renaissance influences, and for some while seemed upon the point of joining the Reformation. But while the French were hesitating, Spain proclaimed herself the uncompromising enemy of Protestantism, and Rome, supported by this powerful ally, dragged Italy into the Catholic reaction. That effort aimed at galvanizing a decrepit Church into the semblance of vital energy, and, while professing the reformation of its corrupt system, stereotyped all that was antagonistic in its creed and customs to the spirit of the modern world. The Catholic Revival necessitated vigorous reaction, not only against Protestantism, but also against the Liberalism of the Renaissance and the political liberties of peoples. It triumphed throughout Southern Europe chiefly because France chose at length the Catholic side. But the triumph was only partial, condemning Spain and Italy indeed to intellectual barrenness for a season, but not sufficing to dominate and suppress the development of rationalism. The pioneer's work of Italy was over. She joined the ranks of obscurantists and obstructives. Germany, having failed to accomplish the Reformation in time, was distracted by the Catholic reaction, which plunged her into a series of disastrous wars. It remained for England and Holland, not, however, without similar perturbations in both countries, to lead the van of progress through two centuries; after which this foremost post was assigned to France and the United States.

IV.

The views which I have maintained throughout my work upon the Renaissance will be found, I think, to be coherent. They have received such varied illustrations that it is difficult to recapitulate the principles on which they rest, without repetition. The main outline of the argument, however, is as follows. During the middle ages, Western Christendom recognized, in theory at least, the ideal of European unity under the dual headship of the Papacy and Empire. There was one civil order and one Church. Emperor and Pope, though frequently at strife, were supposed to support each other for the common welfare of Christendom. That mediaeval conception has now, in the centuries which we call modern, passed into oblivion; and the period in which it ceased to have effective value we denote as the period of the Renaissance and the Reformation. So long as the ideal held good, it was possible for the Papacy to stamp out heresies and to stifle the earlier stirrings of antagonistic culture. Thus the precursory movements to which I alluded in the first chapter of my 'Age of the Despots,' seemed to be abortive; and no less apparently abortive were the reformatory efforts of Wyclif and Huss. Yet Europe was slowly undergoing mental and moral changes, which announced the advent of a new era. These changes were more apparent in Italy than elsewhere, through the revival of arts and letters early in the fourteenth century. Cimabue, Giotto, and the Pisani, Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio, set culture forward on fresh paths divergent from previous mediaeval tradition. The gradual enfeeblement of the Empire and the distraction of the Church during the Great Schism prepared the means whereby both Renaissance and Reformation were eventually realized. The Council of Constance brought the Western nations into active diplomatical relations, and sowed seeds of thought which afterwards sprang up in Luther.

Meanwhile a special nidus had been created in the South. The Italian communes freed themselves from all but titular subjection to the Empire, and were practically independent of the Papacy during its exile in Avignon. They succumbed to despots, and from Italian despotism emerged the Machiavellian conception of the State. This conception, modified in various ways, by Sarpi's theory of Church and State, by the Jesuit theory of Papal Supremacy, by the counter-theory of the Divine Right of Kings, by theories of Social Contract and the Divine Right of Nations, superseded the elder ideal of Universal Monarchy. It grew originally out of the specific conditions of Italy in the fifteenth century, and acquired force from that habit of mind, fostered by the Classical Revival, which we call humanism. Humanism had flourished in Italy since the days of Petrarch, and had been communicated by Italian teachers to the rest of Europe. As in the South it generated the new learning and the new culture which I have described in the first five volumes of my work, and acted as a solvent on the mediaeval idea of the Empire, so in the North it generated a new religious enthusiasm and acted as a solvent on the mediaeval idea of the Church. All through the middle ages, nothing seemed more formidable to the European mind than heresy. Any sacrifices were willingly made in order to secure the unity of the Catholic Communion. But now, by the Protestant rebellion, that spell was broken, and the right of peoples to choose their faith, in dissent from a Church declared corrupt, was loudly proclaimed.

So long as we keep this line of reasoning in view, we shall recognize why it is not only uncritical, but also impossible, to separate the two movements severally called Renaissance and Reformation. Both had a common root in humanism, and humanism owed its existence on the one hand to the recovery of antique literature, on the other to the fact that the Papacy, instead of striving to stamp it out as it had stamped out Provençal civilization, viewed it at first with approval. The new learning, as our ancestors were wont to call it, involved, in Michelet's pregnant formula, the discovery of the world and man, and developed a spirit of revolt against mediaevalism in all its manifestations. Its fruits were speedily discerned in bold exploratory studies, sound methods of criticism, audacious speculation, and the free play of the intellect over every field of knowledge. This new learning had time and opportunity for full development in Italy, and for adequate extension to the Northern races, before its real tendencies were suspected. When that happened, the transition from the mediaeval to the modern age had been secured. The Empire was obsolete. The Church was forced into reaction. Europe became the battle-field of progressive and retrogressive forces, the scene of a struggle between two parties which can best be termed Liberalism and Conservatism.

Stripping the subject of those artistic and literary associations which we are accustomed to connect with the word Renaissance, these seem to me the most essential points to bear in mind about this movement. Then, when we have studied the diverse antecedent circumstances of the German and Italian races, when we take into account their national qualities, and estimate the different aims and divergent enthusiasms evoked in each by humanistic ardor, we shall perceive how it came to pass that Renaissance and Reformation clashed together in discordant opposition to the Catholic Revival.

V.

Italy, through the Roman Republic, the Roman Empire, and the Roman Church, gave discipline, culture, and religion to the Western world. But, during the course of this civilizing process, a force arose in Northern Europe which was destined to transfer the center of gravity from the Mediterranean basin northwards. The Teutonic tribes effaced the Western Empire, adopted Christianity, and profoundly modified what still survived of Latin civility among the Occidental races. A new factor was thus introduced into the European community, which had to be assimilated to the old; and the genius of the Italian people never displayed itself more luminously than in the ability with which the Bishops of Rome availed themselves of this occasion. They separated the Latin from the Greek Church, and, by the figment of the Holy Roman Empire, cemented Southern and Northern Europe into an apparently cohesive whole. After the year A.D. 800, Europe, from the Baltic to the Mediterranean, acknowledged a dual headship; Papacy and Empire ranking as ideals under which the unity of Christendom subsisted in a multiplicity of separate and self-evolving nations.

The concordat between Latin Church and German Empire, the one representing traditions of antique intelligence and southern habits of State organization, the other introducing the young energies of half-cultivated peoples and the chivalry of the North, was never perfect. Yet, incomplete as the fusion between Roman and Teuton actually was, it had a common basis in religion, and it enabled the federated peoples to maintain recognized international relations. What we now call Renaissance and Reformation revealed still unreconciled antagonisms between Southern and Northern, Latin and German, factors in this mediaeval Europe. Italy, freed for a while from both Papacy and Empire, expressed her intellectual energy in the Revival of Learning, developing that bold investigating spirit to which the names of Humanism or of Rationalism may be given. The new learning, the new enthusiasm for inquiry, the new study of the world and man, as subjects of vital interest irrespective of our dreamed-of life beyond the grave, stimulated in Italy what we know as Renaissance; while in Germany it led to what we know as Reformation. The Reformation must be regarded as the Teutonic counterpart to the Italian Renaissance. It was what emerged from the core of that huge barbarian factor, which had sapped the Roman Empire, and accepted Catholicism; which lent its vigor to the mediaeval Empire, and which now participated in the culture of the classical Revival. As Italy restored freedom to human intelligence and the senses by arts and letters and amenities of refined existence, so Germany restored freedom to the soul and conscience by strenuous efforts after religious sincerity and political independence. The one people aiming at a restoration of pagan civility beneath the shadow of Catholicism, the other seeking after a purer Christianity in antagonism to the Papal hierarchy, initiated from opposite points of view that complete emancipation of the modern mind which has not yet been fully realized.

If we inquire why the final end to which both Renaissance and Reformation tended--namely, the liberation of the spirit from mediaeval prepossessions and impediments--has not been more perfectly attained, we find the cause of this partial failure in the contradictory conceptions formed by South and North of a problem which was at root one. Both Renaissance and Reformation had their origin in the revival of learning, or rather in that humanistic enthusiasm which was its vital essence. But the race-differences involved in these two movements were so irreconcilable, the objects pursued were so divergent, that Renaissance and Reformation came into the conflict of chemical combination, producing a ferment out of which the intellectual unity of Europe has not as yet clearly emerged. The Latin race, having created a new learning and a new culture, found itself at strife with the Teutonic race, which at the same period developed new religious conceptions and new political energies.

The Church supplied a battle-field for these hostilities. The Renaissance was by no means favorable to the principles of Catholic orthodoxy; and the Italians showed themselves to be Christians by convention and tradition rather than by conviction in the fifteenth century. Yet Italy was well content to let the corrupt hierarchy of Papal Rome subsist, provided Rome maintained the attitude which Leo X. had adopted toward the liberal spirit of the Classical Revival. The Reformation, on the other hand, was openly antagonistic to the Catholic Church. Protestantism repudiated the toleration professed by skeptical philosophers and indulgent free-thinkers in the South, while it repelled those refined persons by theological fervor and moral indignation which they could not comprehend. Thus the Italian and the German children of humanism failed to make common cause against Catholicism, with which the former felt no sympathy and which the latter vehemently attacked. Meanwhile the Church awoke to a sense of her peril. The Papacy was still a force of the first magnitude; and it only required a vigorous effort to place it once more in an attitude of domination and resistance. This effort it made by reforming the ecclesiastical hierarchy, defining Catholic dogma, and carrying on a war of extermination against the twofold Liberalism of Renaissance and Reformation.

That reactionary movement against the progress of free thought which extinguished the Italian Renaissance and repelled the Reformation, has formed the subject of the two preceding volumes of my work. It could not have been conducted by the Court of Rome without the help of Spain. The Spanish nation, at this epoch paramount in Europe, declared itself fanatically and unanimously for the Catholic Revival. In Italy it lent the weight of arms and overlordship to the Church for the suppression of popular liberties. It provided the Papacy with a spiritual militia specially disciplined to meet the exigencies of the moment. Yet the center of the reaction was still Rome; and the Spanish hegemony enabled the Roman hierarchy to consolidate an organism which has long survived its own influence in European affairs.

VI.

After the close of the Great Schism Rome began to obey the national impulses of the Italians, entered into their confederation as one of the five leading powers, and assumed externally the humanistic culture then in vogue. But the Church was a cosmopolitan institution. Its interests extended beyond the Alps, beyond the Pyrenees, beyond the oceans traversed by Portuguese and Spanish navigators. The Renaissance so far modified its structure that the Papacy continued politically to rank as an Italian power. Its headquarters could not be removed from the Tiber, and by the tacit consent of Latin Catholicism the Supreme Pontiff was selected from Italian prelates. Yet now, in 1530, it began to play a new part more consonant with its mediaeval functions and pretensions. Rome indeed had ceased to be the imperial capital of Europe, where the secular head of Christendom assumed the crown of Empire from his peer the spiritual chieftain. The Eternal City in this new phase of modern history, which lasted until Vittorio Emmanuele's entrance into the Quirinal in 1870, gave the Pope a place among Catholic sovereigns. From his throne upon the seven hills he conducted with their approval and assistance the campaign of the Counter-Reformation. Instead of encouraging and developing what yet remained of Renaissance in Italy, instead of directing that movement of the self-emancipating mind beyond the stage of art and humanism into the stage of rationalism and science, the Church used its authority to bring back the middle ages and to repress national impulses. It made common cause with Spain for a common object--the maintenance of Italy in a state of political and intellectual bondage, and the subjugation of such provinces in Europe as had not been irretrievably lost to the Catholic cause. The Italians, as a nation, remained passive, but not altogether unwilling or unapproving spectators of the drama which was being enacted under Papal leadership beyond their boundaries. Once again their activity was merged in that of Rome--in the action of that State which had first secured for them the Empire of the habitable globe, and next the spiritual hegemony of the Western races, and from the predominance of which they had partially disengaged themselves during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. It was the Papacy's sense of its own danger as a cosmopolitan institution, combined with the crushing superiority of Spain in the peninsula, which determined this phase of Italian history.

The Catholic Revival, like the Renaissance, may in a certain sense be viewed as a product of Italian genius. This is sufficiently proved by the diplomatic history of the Tridentine Council, and by the dedication of the Jesuits to Papal service. It must, however, be remembered that while the Renaissance emanated from the race at large, from its confederation of independent republics and tyrannies, the Catholic Revival emanated from that portion of the race which is called Rome, from the ecclesiastical hierarchy imbued with world-wide ambitions in which national interests were drowned. There is nothing more interesting to the biographer of the Italians than the complicated correlation in which they have always stood to the cosmopolitan organism of Rome, itself Italian. In their antique days of greatness Rome subdued them, and by their native legions won the overlordship of the world. After the downfall of the Empire the Church continued Roman traditions in an altered form, but it found itself unable to dispense with the foreign assistance of Franks and Germans. The price now paid by Italy for spiritual headship in Europe was subjection to Teutonic suzerains and perpetual intriguing interference in her affairs. During the Avignonian captivity and the Great Schism, Italy developed intellectual and confederative unity, imposing her laws of culture and of state-craft even on the Papacy when it returned to Rome. But again at the close of the Renaissance, when Italian independence had collapsed, the Church aspired to spiritual supremacy; and at this epoch she recompensed her Spanish ally by aiding and abetting in the enslavement of the peninsula. Still the Roman Pontiff, who acted as generalissimo of the Catholic armies throughout Europe, was now more than ever recognized as an Italian power.

VII.

In his review of Ranke's History of the Popes Lord Macaulay insists with brilliant eloquence upon the marvelous vitality and longevity of the Roman Catholic Church. He describes the insurrection of the intellect against her rule in Provence, and her triumph in the Crusade which sacrificed a nation to the conception of mediaeval religious unity. He dwells on her humiliation in exile at Avignon, her enfeeblement during the Great Schism, and her restoration to splendor and power at the close of the Councils. Then he devotes his vast accumulated stores of learning and his force of rhetoric to explain the Reformation, the Catholic Revival, and the Counter-Reformation. He proves abundantly what there was in the organism of the Catholic Church and in the temper of Papal Rome, which made these now reactionary powers more than a match for Protestantism. 'In fifty years from the day on which Luther publicly renounced communion with the Papacy, and burned the bull of Leo before the gates of Wittenberg, Protestantism attained its highest ascendency, an ascendency which it soon lost, and which it never regained.' This sentence forms the theme for Lord Macaulay's survey of the Catholic Revival. Dazzling and fascinating as that survey is, it fails through misconception of one all-important point. Lord Macaulay takes for granted that conflict in Europe, since the publication of Luther's manifesto against Rome, has been between Catholicism and Protestantism. Even after describing the cataclysm of the French Revolution, he winds up his argument with these words: 'We think it a most remarkable fact that no Christian nation, which did not adopt the principles of the Reformation before the end of the sixteenth century, should ever have adopted them. Catholic communities have, since that time, become infidel and Catholic again; but none has become Protestant.' This is tantamount to regarding Protestantism as something fixed and final in itself, as a permanent and necessary form of Christianity. Here lies the fallacy which makes his reasoning, in spite of all its eloquence, but superficial. Protestantism, in truth, has never been more than a half-way house or halting-place between Catholicism and what may variously be described as free thought or science or rationalism. Being in its origin critical--being, as its name implies, a protest and an opposition--Protestantism was doomed to sterility, whenever it hardened into one or other of its dogmatic forms. As critics and insurgents, Luther and Calvin rank among the liberators of the modern intellect. As founders of intolerant and mutually hostile Christian sects, Luther and Calvin rank among the retarders of modern civilization. In subsequent thinkers of whom both sects have disapproved, we may recognize the veritable continuators of their work in its best aspect. The Lutheran and Calvinist Churches are but backwaters and stagnant pools, left behind by the subsidence of rivers in flood, separated from the tidal stress of cosmic forces. Macaulay's misconception of the true character of Protestantism, which is to Catholicism what the several dissenting bodies are to the English Establishment, has diverted his attention from the deeper issues involved in the Counter-Reformation. He hardly touches upon Rome's persecution of free thought, upon her obstinate opposition to science. Consequently, he is not sufficiently aware that Copernicus and Bruno were, even in the sixteenth century, far more dangerous foes to Catholicism than were the leaders of the Reformed Churches. Copernicus and Bruno, the lineal ancestors of Helmholtz and Darwin, headed that opposition to Catholicism which has been continuous and potent to the present day, which has never retreated into backwaters or stagnated in slumbrous pools. From this opposition the essence of Christianity, the spirit which Christ bequeathed to his disciples, has nothing to fear. But Catholicism and Protestantism alike, in so far as both are dogmatic and reactionary, clinging to creeds which will not bear the test of scientific investigation, to myths which have lost their significance in the light of advancing knowledge, and to methods of interpreting the Scriptures at variance with the canons of historical criticism, have very much to fear from this opposition. Lord Macaulay thinks it a most remarkable fact that no Christian nation has adopted the principles of the Reformation since the end of the sixteenth century. He does not perceive that, in every race of Europe, all enlightened thinkers, whether we name Bacon or Descartes, Spinoza or Leibnitz, Goethe or Mazzini, have adopted and carried forward those principles in their essence. That they have not proclaimed themselves Protestants unless they happened to be born Protestants, ought not to arouse his wonder, any more than that Washington and Heine did not proclaim themselves Whigs. For Protestantism, when it became dogmatic and stereotyped itself in sects, ceased to hold any vital relation to the forward movement of modern thought. The Reformation, in its origin, was, as I have tried to show, the Northern and Teutonic manifestation of that struggle after intellectual freedom, which in Italy and France had taken shape as Renaissance. But Calvinism, Lutheranism, Zwinglianism, and Anglicanism renounced that struggle only less decidedly than Catholicism; and in some of their specific phases, in Puritanism for example, they showed themselves even more antagonistic to liberal culture and progressive thought than did the Roman Church.

Whatever may be thought about the future of Catholicism (and no prudent man will utter prophecies upon such matters), there can be no doubt that the universal mind of the Christian races, whether Catholic or Protestant, has been profoundly penetrated and permeated with rationalism, which, springing simultaneously in Reformation and Renaissance out of humanism, has supplied the spiritual life of the last four centuries. This has created science in all its branches. This has stimulated critical and historical curiosity. This has substituted sound for false methods of inquiry, the love of truth for attachment to venerable delusion. This has sustained the unconquerable soul of man in its persistent effort after liberty and its revolt against the tyranny of priests and princes. At present, civilization seems threatened by more potent foes than the Roman Church, nor is it likely that these foes will seek a coalition with Catholicism.

As a final remark upon this topic, it should be pointed out that Protestantism, in spite of the shortcomings I have indicated, has, on the whole, been more favorable to intellectual progress than Catholicism. For Protestantism was never altogether oblivious of its origin in revolt against unjust spiritual domination, while Catholicism has steadily maintained its conservative attitude of self-defense by repression. This suffices to explain another point insisted on by Lord Macaulay--namely, that those nations in which Protestantism took root have steadily advanced, while the decay of Southern Europe can be mainly ascribed to the Catholic Revival. The one group of nations have made progress, not indeed because they were Protestants, but because they were more obedient to the Divine Mind, more in sympathy with the vital principle of movement, more open to rationalism. The other group of nations have declined, because Catholicism after the year 1530, wilfully separated itself from truth and liberty and living force, and obstinately persisted in serving the false deities of an antiquated religion.

VIII.

Few periods in history illustrate the law of reaction and retrogression, to which all processes of civil progress are subject, more plainly and more sadly than the one with which I have been dealing in these volumes. The Renaissance in Italy started with the fascination of a golden dream; and like the music of a dream, it floated over Europe. But the force which had stimulated humanity to this delightful reawakening of senses and intelligence, stirred also the slumbering religious conscience, and a yearning after personal emancipation. Protestantism arose like a stern reality, plunging the nations into confused and deadly conflict, arousing antagonisms in established orders, unleashing cupidities and passions which had lurked within the breasts of manifold adventurers. The fifteenth century closed to a solemn symphony. After the middle of the sixteenth, discord sounded from every quarter of the Occidental world. Italy lay trampled on and dying. Spain reared her dragon's crest of menacing ambition and remorseless fanaticism. France was torn by factions and devoured by vicious favorites of corrupt kings. Germany heaved like a huge ocean in the grip of a tumultuous gyrating cyclone. England passed through a complex revolution, the issue of which, under the sway of three Tudor monarchs, appeared undecided, until the fourth by happy fate secured the future of her people. It is not to be wondered that, in these circumstances, a mournful discouragement should have descended on the age; that men should have become more dubitative; that arts and letters should have seemed to pine upon unfertile ground. The nutriment they needed was absorbed by plants of fiercer and ranker growth, religious hatreds, political greeds, relentless passions burning in the hearts of princes and of populations.

IX.

Italy had already given so much of mental and social civilization to Europe, that her quiescence at this epoch can scarcely supply a substantial theme for rhetorical lamentations. Marino and Guido Reni prove that the richer veins of Renaissance art and poetry had been worked out. The lives of Aldus the younger and Muretus show that humanism was well-nigh exhausted on its native soil. This will not, however, prevent us from deploring the untimely frost cast by persecution on Italy's budding boughs of knowledge. While we rejoice in Galileo, we must needs shed tears of fiery wrath over the passion of Campanella and the stake of Bruno. Meanwhile the tree of genius was ever green and vital in that Saturnian land of culture. Poetry, painting, sculpture, and architecture, having borne their flowers and fruits, retired to rest. Scholarship faded; science was nipped in its unfolding season by unkindly influences. But music put forth lusty shoots and flourished, yielding a new paradise of harmless joy, which even priests could grudge not to the world, and which lulled tyranny to sleep with silvery numbers.

Thanks be to God that I who pen these pages, and that you who read them, have before us in this year of grace the spectacle of a resuscitated Italy! In this last quarter of the nineteenth century, the work of her heroes, Vittorio Emmanuele, Mazzini, Garibaldi, and Cavour, stands firmly founded. The creation of united Italy, that latest birth of the Italian genius, that most impossible of dreamed-of triumphs through long ages of her glory and greatness, compensates for all that she has borne in these three hundred years. Now that Rome is no longer the seat of a cosmopolitan theocracy, but the capital of a regenerated people; now that Venice joins hands with Genoa, forgetful of Curzola and Chioggia; now that Florence and Pisa and Siena stand like sisters on the sacred Tuscan soil, while Milan has no strife with Naples, and the Alps and sea-waves gird one harmony of cities who have drowned their ancient spites in amity,--the student of the splendid and the bitter past may pause and bow his head in gratitude to Heaven and swear that, after all, all things are well.

X.

There is no finality in human history. It is folly to believe that any religions, any social orders, any scientific hypotheses, are more than provisional, and partially possessed of truth. Let us assume that the whole curve of human existence on this planet describes a parabola of some twenty millions of years in duration.[239] Of this we have already exhausted unreckoned centuries in the evolution of pre-historic man, and perhaps five thousand years in the ages of historic records. How much of time remains in front? Through that past period of five thousand years preserved for purblind retrospect in records, what changes of opinion, what peripeties of empire, may we not observe and ponder! How many theologies, cosmological conceptions, polities, moralities, dominions, ways of living and of looking upon life, have followed one upon another! The space itself is brief; compared with the incalculable longevity of the globe, it is but a bare 'scape in oblivion.' And, however ephemeral the persistence of humanity may be in this its earthly dwelling-place, the conscious past sinks into insignificance before those aeons of the conscious future, those on-coming and out-rolling waves of further evolution which bear posterity forward. Has any solid gain of man been lost on the stream of time to us-ward? We doubt that. Has anything final and conclusive been arrived at? We doubt that also. The river broadens, as it bears us on. But the rills from which it gathered, and the ocean whereto it tends, are now, as ever in the past, inscrutable. It is therefore futile to suppose, at this short stage upon our journey, while the infant founts of knowledge are still murmuring to our ears, that any form of faith or science has been attained as permanent; that any Pillars of Hercules have been set up against the Atlantic Ocean of experience and exploration. Think of that curve of possibly twenty million years, and of the five thousand years remembered by humanity! How much, how incalculably much longer is the space to be traversed than that which we have left behind! It seems, therefore, our truest, as it is our humblest, wisdom to live by faith and love. 'And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.' Love is the greatest; and against love man has sinned most in the short but blood-bedabbled annals of his past. Hope is the virtue from which a faithful human being can best afford to abstain, unless hope wait as patient handmaid upon faith. Faith is the steadying and sustaining force, holding fast by which each one of us dares defy change, and gaze with eyes of curious contemplation on the tide which brought us, and is carrying, and will bear us where we see not. 'I know not how I came of you and I know not where I go with you; but I know I came well and I shall go well.' Man can do no better than live in Eternity's Sunrise, as Blake put it. To live in the eternal sunrise of God's presence, ever rising, not yet risen, which will never reach its meridian on this globe, seems to be the destiny, as it should also be the blessing, of mankind.

[Footnote 239: Twenty millions of years is of course a mere symbol, x or y.]


INDEX.

A

ACADEMIES, Italian, the flourishing time of, i. 52.

ACCIAIUOLI, Roberto, i. 33.

ACCOLTI, Benedetto, conspirator against Pius IV., i. 132.

ACCORAMBONI, Claudio (father of Vittoria), i. 356.

---Marcello (brother of Vittoria): intrigues for the marriage of his sister with the Duke of Bracciano, i. 358 _sqq._; procures the murder of her husband, 362; employs a Greek enchantress to brew love-philters, 365; his death, 372.

---Tarquinia (mother of Vittoria), i. 356.

---Vittoria, the story of, i. 355 _sqq._; her birth and parentage, 356; marriage with Felice Peretti, 357; intrigue with the Duke of Bracciano, 360; the murder of her husband, 362; her marriage with Bracciano, 364; annulled by the Pope, 364, 366; the union renounced by the Duke, 365; put on trial for the murder of Peretti, _ib._; their union publicly ratified by the Duke, 366; flight from Rome, _ib._; death of Bracciano, 367; her murder procured by Lodovico Orsini, 369.

'ACTS of Faith,' i. 107, 176, 187.

ADMINISTRATOR, the (Jesuit functionary), i. 273.

'ADONE,' Marino's: its publication, ii. 264; critique of the poem, 266 _sqq._

ALBANI, Francesco, Bolognese painter, ii. 355, 358.

ALEXANDER VI., Pope, parallel between, and Pope Paul IV., i. 106.

ALFONSO II., Duke of Ferrara: sketch of his Court, ii. 28 _sqq._; his second marriage, 30; treatment of Tasso, 38, 51, 53, 58, 60 _sqq._; his third marriage, 66; estimate of the reasons why he imprisoned Tasso, 66 _sqq._

ALFONSO the Magnanimous: arrangements under his will, i. 4.

ALIDOSI, Cardinal Francesco, murder of, i. 36.

ALLEGORY, hypocrisy of the, exemplified in Tasso, ii. 44; in Marino, 272; in Ortensi's moral interpretations of Bandello's Novelle, 272 _n._

ALTEMPS, Cardinal d' (Mark of Hohen Ems), legate at Trent, i. 119 _n._

ALVA, Duke of, defeat of the Duke of Guise by, i. 103.

'AMADIS of Gaul,' the favorite book of Loyola in his youth, i. 232.

AMIAS, Beatrice, mother of Francesco Cenci, i. 346.

'AMINTA,' Tasso's pastoral drama, first production of, ii. 39; its style, 114.

ANGELUZZO, Giovanni, Tasso's first teacher, ii. 12.

ANIMA Mundi, Bruno's doctrine of, ii. 177.

ANTONIANO, a censor of the Gerusalemme Liberata, ii. 43.

---Silvio, a boy improvvisatore, anecdote of, ii. 328.

AQUAVIVA, the fifth General of the Jesuits, i. 248.

AQUITAINE, Duke of, Guercino's painting of in Bologna, ii. 367.

ARAGONESE Dynasty, the, in Italy, i. 4.

ARBUES, Peter, Saint of the Inquisition in Aragon, i. 161, 178.

ARETINO, Pietro, i. 42, 70; satire of on Paul IV., 108.

'ARIE Divote,' Palestrina's, ii. 335.

ARISTOTLE'S Axiom on Taste, ii. 371, 374.

ARMADA, Spanish, i. 149.

ARMI, Lodovico dall', a bravo of noble family, i. 409; accredited at Venice as Henry VIII.'s 'Colonel,' 410; his career of secret diplomacy, 411; negotiations between Lord Wriothesley and Venice regarding the ban issued against him, 412; his downfall, 413; personal appearance, 414; execution, 415.

ARNOLFINI, Massimiliano, paramour of Lucrezia Buonvisi, i. 331; procures the assassination of her husband, 332; flight from justice, 332; outlawed, 336; his wanderings and wretched end, 339.

ART of Memory, Bruno's, ii. 139.

ART of Poetry, Tasso's Dialogues on the, ii. 22, 24; influence of its theory on Tasso's own work, 25.

ASSISTANTS, the (Jesuit functionaries), i. 273.

ASTORGA, Marquis of, i. 22.

AURORA, the Ludovisi fresco of, ii. 368.

AVILA, Don Luigi d', i. 128.

B

BAGLIONI, Malatesta, i. 46.

BAINI'S Life of Palestrina, ii. 316 _sqq._

BALBI, Cesare, on Italian decadence, ii. 3.

BANDITTI, tales illustrative of, i. 388 _sqq._

'BANDO' (of outlawry), recitation of the terms of a, i. 328.

BARBIERI, Giovanni Francesco, see IL GUERCINO.

BARCELONA, the Treaty of, i. 15.

BARNABITES, Order of the: their foundation, i. 80.

BAROCCIO, Federigo, ii. 349.

BAROZZA, a Venetian courtezan, i. 394, 396.

BASEL, Council of, i. 94.

BEARD, unshorn, worn in sign of mourning, i. 36.

BEDELL, William (Bishop of Kilmore), on Fra Paolo and Fra Fulgenzio, ii. 231.

BEDMAR'S conspiracy, ii. 186.

BELLARMINO, Cardinal, on the inviolability of the Vulgate, i. 212; relations of, with Fra Paolo Sarpi, ii. 213, 222; his censure of the Pastor Fido, 251.

BELRIGUARDO, the villa of, Tasso at, ii. 53.

BEMBO, Pietro, i. 30, 41.

BENDEDEI, Taddea, wife of Guarini, ii. 245.

BENTIVOGLI, the semi-royal offspring of King Enzo of Sardinia, ii. 304.

BIBBONI, Cecco: his account of how he murdered Lorenzino de'Medici, i. 488 _sqq._; his associate, Bebo, details of the life of a bravo, 389; tracking an outlaw, 392; the wages of a tyrannicide, 394; the _bravo's_ patient watching, 395; the murder, 397; flight of the assassins, 399; their reception by Count Collalto, 401; they seek refuge at the Spanish embassy, 402; protected by Charles V.'s orders, 403; conveyed to Pisa, 404; well provided for their future life, _ib._

BITONTO. Pasquale di, one of the assassins of Sarpi, ii. 212.

BLACK garments of Charles V., the, i. 43.

BLACK Pope, the, i. 275.

BLOIS, Treaty of, i. 12.

BOBADILLA, Nicholas, associate of Ignatius Loyola, i. 240; his work as a Jesuit in Bavaria, 258.

BOLOGNA and Modena, humors of the conflict between, ii. 304.

BOLOGNESE school of painters, the, ii. 343 _sqq._; why their paintings are now neglected, 375 _sqq._; mental condition of Bolognese art, 376.

BONELLI, Michele, nephew of Pius V., i. 147.

BONIFAZIO of Montferrat, Marquis, one of the Paleologi, i. 23.

BORGIA, Francis (Duke of Gandia), third General of the Jesuits, i. 256; prevented by Loyola from accepting a Cardinal's hat, 260.

BORROMEO, Carlo: his character, i. 115; a possible successor to Pius IV., 135; ruled in Rome by the Jesuits, 142; his intimacy with Sarpi, ii. 194.

---Federigo, i. 115; letter of, forbidding soldiers' visits to convents, 316 _n._

BRANCACCIO, Diana, treachery of, towards the Duchess of Palliano, i. 378; her murder, 379.

'BRAVI,' maintenance of by Italian nobles, i. 313; tales illustrative of, 388 _sqq._; relations of trust between bravi and foreign Courts, 409.

BRIGANDAGE in Italy, i. 416.

BROWN, Mr. H.F., his researches in the Venetian archives, i. 189 _n._

BRUCCIOLI, Antonio, translator of the Bible into Italian, i. 76.

BRUNO, Giordano: his birth, and training as a Dominican, ii. 129; early speculative doubts, 130; Il Candelajo, 131, 183; early studies, 133; prosecution for heresy, 134; a wandering student, 135; at Geneva, 136; Toulouse, 137; at the Sorbonne, 138; the Art of Memory, 139, 154; De Umbris Idearum, _ib._; relations with Henri III., 140; Bruno's person and conversation, 141; in England, _ib._; works printed in London, 142; descriptions of London life, _ib._; opinion of Queen Elizabeth, 143; lecturer at Oxford, 144; address to the Vice-Chancellor, 146; academical opposition, 147; the Ash-Wednesday Supper, _ib._; in the family of Castelnau, 148; in Germany, 149; Bruno's opinion of the Reformers, _ib._; the De Monade and De Triplici Minimo, 150; Bruno in a monastery at Frankfort, 151; invited to Venice, 153; a guest of Mocenigo there, 154; his occupations, 156; denounced by Mocenigo and imprisoned by the Inquisition, 157; the heads of the accusation, 157 _sqq._; trial, 159; recantation, 160; estimate of Bruno's apology, 161; his removal to and long imprisonment at Rome, 163; his execution, 164; evidence of his martyrdom, 164 _sqq._; Schoppe's account, 165; details of Bruno's treatment in Rome, 167; the burning at the stake, 167 _sq._; Bruno a martyr, 168; contrast with Tasso, 169; Bruno's mental attitude, 170 _sq._; his championship of the Copernican system, 172; his relation to modern science and philosophy, 173; conception of the universe, 173 _sqq._; his theology, 175; the Anima Mundi, 177; anticipations of modern thought, 178, 182; his want of method, 180; the treatise on the Seven Arts, 182; Bruno's literary style, 182 _sqq._; his death contrasted with that of Sarpi, 239 _n._

BRUSANTINI, Count Alessandro (Tassoni's 'Conte Culagna'), ii. 301, 306.

BUCKET, the Bolognese, ii. 305.

BUONCOMPAGNO, Giacomo, bastard, son of Gregory XIII., i. 150.

---Ugo, see GREGORY XIII.

BUONVISI, Lucrezia, story of, i. 330; intrigue with Arnolfini, 331; murder of her husband, 332; Lucrezia suspected of complicity, 334; becomes a nun (Sister Umilia), _ib._; the case against her, 338; amours of inmates of her convent, 340; Umilia's intrigue with Samminiati, _ib._; discovery of their correspondence, 341; trial and sentences of the nuns, 344; Umilia's last days, 345.

---Lelio, assassination of, i. 332.

BURGUNDIAN diamond of Charles the Bold, the, i. 38.

C

CALCAGNINI, Celio, letter of, on religious controversies, i. 74.

CALVAERT, Dionysius, a Flemish painter in Bologna, ii. 355.

CALVETTI, Olimpio (one of the assassins of Francesco Cenci), i. 350.

CALVIN, i. 73; his relation to modern civilization, ii. 402.

CAMBRAY, Treaty of (the Paix des Dames), i. 9, 15.

CAMERA Apostolica, the, venality of, i. 140.

CAMERINO, Duchy of, i. 86.

CAMPANELLA, on the black robes of the Spaniards in Italy, i. 44.

CAMPEGGI, Cardinal Lorenzo, i. 21.

CAMPIREALI, Elena, the tale of, i. 428.

CANELLO, U.A., on Italian society in the sixteenth century, i. 304 _n._

CANISIUS, lieutenant of Loyola in Austria, i. 259; appointed to the administration of the see of Vienna, 260.

CANOSSA, Antonio, conspirator against Pius IV., i. 132.

CAPELLO, Bianca, the story of, i. 382.

CAPPELLA, Giulia (Rome), school for training choristers, ii. 316.

CARACCI, the, Bolognese painters, ii. 345, 349 _sqq._

CARAFFA, Cardinal, condemned to death by Pius IV., i. 115.

---Giovanni Pietro (afterwards Pope Paul IV.), causes the rejection of Contarini's arrangement with the Lutherans, i. 78; helps to found the Theatines, 79; made Cardinal by Paul III., 88; hatred of Spanish ascendency, 89; becomes Pope Paul IV., 102; quarrel with Philip II., 102 _sqq._; opens negotiations with Soliman, 103; reconciliation with Spain, 104; nepotism, _ib._; indignation against the misdoings of his relatives, 106; ecclesiastical reforms, 107 _sq._; zeal for the Holy Office, 107 _n._; personal character, 108; his death, _ib._; his earlier relations with Ignatius Loyola, 242.

CARAFFESCHI, evil character of the, i. 105; four condemned to death by Pius IV., 115, 318.

CARAVAGGIO, Michelangelo Amerighi da, Italian Realist painter, ii. 363 _n._

CARDINE, Aliffe and Leonardo di (Caraffeschi), condemned to death by Pius IV., i. 115.

CARDONA, Violante de (Duchess of Palliano), story of, i. 373 _sqq._; her accomplishments, 374; character, _ib._; passion of Marcello Capecce for her, _ib._; her character compromised through Diana Brancaccio, 378; murder of Marcello and Diana by the Duke, _ib._; death of Violante at the hands of her brother, 380.

CARLI, Orazio: description of his being put to the torture, i. 333 _sq._

CARLO Emmanuele of Savoy, Italian hopes founded on, ii. 246, 286; friend of Marino, 262; kindness to Chiabrera, 290; treatment of Tassoni, 298.

CARNESECCHI, condemned by the Roman Inquisition to be burned, i. 145.

CARPI, attached to Ferrara, i. 40.

CARRANZA, Archbishop of Toledo, condemned by the Roman Inquisition to be burned, i. 145.

CASA, Giovanni della (author of the _Capitolo del Forno_), i. 393, 395.

CASTELNAU, Michel de, kindness of towards Giordano Bruno, ii. 141, 148.

---Marie de, Bruno's admiration for, ii. 148.

---Pierre de, the first Saint of the Inquisition, i. 161.

CATALANI, Marzio (one of the assassins of Francesco Cenci), i. 350.

CATEAU Cambrésis, the Peace of, i. 48.

CATHOLIC Revival, the inaugurators of, at Bologna, i. 16; transition from the Renaissance to, 65; new religious spirit in Italy, 67; the Popes and the Council of Trent, 96 _sqq._; a Papal triumph, 130; the Catholic Reaction generated the Counter-Reformation, 133; its effect on social and domestic morals, 301 _sqq._

CELEBRITY, vicissitudes of, ii. 368.

CELIBACY, clerical, the question of, at Trent, i. 123.

CELLANT, Contessa di, the model of Luini's S. Catherine, ii. 360 _n._

'CENA delle Ceneri, La,' Bruno's, i. 85 _n._; ii. 140, 142, 183.

CENCI, Beatrice, examination of the legend of, i. 351 _sqq._

---Francesco: bastard son of Cristoforo Cenci, i. 346; his early life, _ib._; disgraceful charges against him, 348; compounds by heavy money payment for his crimes, _ib._; violent deaths of his sons, _ib._; severity towards his children, 349; his assassination procured by his wife and three children, 350; the murderers denounced, _ib._; their trial and punishments, 351.

---Msgr. Christoforo, father of Francesco Cenci, i. 346.

CENTINI, Giacomo: story of his attempts by sorcery on the life of Urban VIII., i. 425.

CESI, Msgr., invites Tasso to Bologna, ii. 22.

CHARLES V., his compact with Clement VII., i. 15; Emperor Elect, 16; relations with Andrea Doria, 17; at Genoa, 18; his journey to Bologna, 20; his reception there, 22; the meeting with Clement, 23; mustering of Italian princes, 25; negotiations on Italian affairs, 26 _sqq._; a treaty of peace signed, 31; the difficulty with Florence, 32; the question of the two crowns, 34 _sqq._; description of the coronation, 37 _sqq._; the events that followed, 39 _sqq._; the net results of Charles's administration of Italian affairs, 45 _sqq._; his relations with Paul III., 100; his abdication, 102; he protects the assassins of Lorenzino de'Medici, 403.

CHARLES VIII., of France: his invasion of Italy, i. 8.

CHIABRERA, Gabriello: his birth, ii. 287; educated by the Jesuits, _ib._; his youth, 288; the occupations of a long life, 289; courtliness, 290; ode to Cesare d'Este, 291; Chiabrera's aim to remodel Italian poetry on a Greek pattern. 292 _sqq._; would-be Pindaric flights, 296; comparison with Marino and Tassoni, _ib._

CIOTTO, Giambattista, relations of, with Giordano Bruno, ii. 152 _sqq._

CISNEROS, Garcia de, author of a work which suggested S. Ignatius's Exercitia, i. 236.

CLEMENT VII.: a prisoner in S. Angelo, i. 14; compact with Charles V., 15; their meeting at Bologna, 16 _sqq._; negotiations with the Emperor Elect, 26 _sqq._; peace signed, 31.

CLEMENT VIII.: his Concordat with Venice, i. 193; Index of Prohibited Books issued by him, _ib._; his rules for the censorship of books, 198 _sqq._; he confers a pension on Tasso, ii. 76.

CLOUGH, Mr., lines of, on 'Christianized' monuments in Papal Rome, i. 154.

COADJUTORS, Temporal and Spiritual (Jesuit grades), i. 271.

COLLALTO, Count Salici da, patron of the bravo Bibboni, i. 400.

COLONNA, the, reduced to submission to the Popes, i. 7.

---Vespasiano, Duke of Palliano, i. 77.

---Vittoria, i. 77; letter to, from Tasso in his childhood, ii. 15.

COMANDINO, Federigo, Tasso's teacher, ii. 19.

COMPANY OF JESUS, see JESUITS.

CONCLAVES, external influences on, in the election of Popes, i. 134.

CONFEDERATION between Clement VII. and Charles V., i. 31.

'CONFIRMATIONS,' Fra Fulgenzio's, ii. 201.

CONSERVATISM and Liberalism, necessary contest between, ii. 386.

'CONSIDERATIONS on the Censures,' Sarpi's, ii. 201.

CONSTANCE, Council of, i. 92.

CONTARINI, Gasparo: his negotiations between Catholics and Protestants, i. 30; treatment of his writings by Inquisitors, 31; suspected of heterodoxy, 72; intimacy with Gaetano di Thiene, 76; his concessions to the Reformers repudiated by the Curia, 78; memorial on ecclesiastical abuses, 79.

---Simeone: his account of a plague at Savigliano, i. 419 _sq._

'CONTRIBUTIONS of the Clergy, Discourse upon the,' Sarpi's, ii. 221.

COPERNICAN system, the, Bruno's championship of, ii. 172.

COREGLIA, one of the assassins of Lelio Buonvisi, i. 333 _sqq._

CORONATION of Charles V., description of, i. 34 _sqq._; notable people present at, 39 _sqq._

CORSAIRS, Tunisian and Algerian, raids of, on Italian coasts, i. 417.

COSCIA, Giangiacopo, guardian of Tasso's sister, ii. 16.

COSIMO I. of Tuscany, the rule of, i. 46, 47.

COSTANTINI, Antonio, Tasso's last letter written to, ii. 77; sonnet on the poet, 78.

COTERIES, religious, in Rome, Venice, Naples, i. 75 _sqq._

COUNTER-REFORMATION: its intellectual and moral character, i. 63; the term defined, 64 _n._; decline of Renaissance impulse, 65; criticism and formalism in Italy, _ib._; contrast with the development of other European races, 66; transition to the Catholic Revival, 67; attitudes of Italians towards the German Reformation, 71; free-thinkers, 73; the Oratory of Divine Love, 76; the Moderate Reformers, _ib._; Gasparo Contarini, 78; new Religious Orders, 79; the Council of Trent, 97, 119; Tridentine Reforms, 107, 134; asceticism fashionable in Rome, 108, 142; active hostilities against Protestantism, 148; the new spirit of Roman polity, 149 _sqq._; work of the Inquisition, 159 _sqq._; the Index, 195 _sqq._; twofold aim of Papal policy, 226; the Jesuits, 229 _sqq._; an estimate of the results of the Reformation and of the Counter-Reformation, ii. 385 _sqq._

COURIERS, daily post of, between the Council of Trent and the Vatican, i. 121.

COURT life in Italy, i. 20, 37, 41, 51; ii. 17, 29, 65, 201, 251.

CRIMES of violence, in Italy in the sixteenth century, i. 304 _sqq._

CRIMINAL procedure, of Italian governments in the sixteenth century, i. 308 _sqq._

CRITICISM, fundamental principles of, ii. 370; the future of, 374.

CROWNS, the iron and the golden, of the Emperor, i. 34.

CULAGNA, Conte di, see BRUSANTINI.

CURIA, the, complicity of, with the attempts on Sarpi's life, ii. 213.

D

'DATATARIO:' amount and sources of its income, i. 140.

DATI, Giovanbattista, amount of, with nuns, i. 341 _sq._

'DECAMERONE,' Boccaccio's expurgated editions of, issued in Rome, i. 224 _sq._

DELLA CRUSCANS, the, attack of, on Tasso's poetry, ii. 35, 72, 117 _n._

'DE Monade,' Bruno's, ii. 150, 152 _n._, 167.

DEPRES, Josquin, the leader of the contrapuntal style in music, ii. 316.

'DE Triplici Minimo,' Bruno's, ii. 150, 152 _n._, 167.

'DE Umbris Idearum,' Bruno's, ii. 139.

DEZA, Diego, Spanish Inquisitor, i. 182.

DIACATHOLICON, the, meaning of the term as used by Sarpi, i. 231; ii. 202.

DIALOGUES, Tasso's, ii. 22, 112.

DIRECTORIUM, the (Lainez' commentary on the constitution of the Jesuits), i. 249.

DIVINE Right of sovereigns, the: why it found favor among Protestants, i. 296.

DOMENICHINO, Bolognese painter, ii. 355; critique of Mr. Ruskin's invectives against his work, 359 _sqq._

DOMINICANS, the, ousted as theologians by the Jesuits at Trent, i. 101; their reputation for learning, ii. 130.

DOMINIS, Marcantonio de, publishes in England Sarpi's History of the Council of Trent, ii. 223.

DONATO, Leonardo, Doge of Venice, ii. 198.

DORIA, Andrea: his relations with Charles V., i. 18.

---Cardinal Girolamo, i. 21.

E

ECLECTICISM in painting, ii. 345 _sqq._, 375 _sqq._

ECONOMICAL stagnation in Italy, i. 423.

ELIZABETH, Queen (of England), Bruno's admiration of, ii. 143.

EMANCIPATION of the reason, retarded by both the Reformation and the Counter-Reformation, ii. 385 _sqq._

EMIGRANTS from Italy, regulations of the Inquisition regarding, i. 227.

ENZO, King (of Sardinia), a prisoner at Bologna, ii. 304.

EPIC poetry, Italian speculations on, ii. 24; Tasso's Dialogues on, 26.

'EROICI Furori, Gli,' Bruno's, ii. 142, 183.

ESPIONAGE, system of among the Jesuits, i. 273.

ESTE, Alfonso d' (Duke of Ferrara), relations of, with Charles V., i. 40.

---Cardinal Ippolito d', i. 127 _sq._

---Cardinal Luigi d', Tasso in the service of, ii. 12, 27.

---Don Cesare d', Chiabrera's Ode to, ii. 291.

---House of, their possessions in Italy, i. 45. 48.

---Isabella d', at the coronation of Charles V.. i. 21.

---Leonora d', the nature of Tasso's attachment to, ii. 31 _sqq._, 36, 40, 51, 54 _n._, 56, 68; her death, 71.

---Lucrezia d', Tasso's attachment to, ii. 32, 39; her marriage, 35; her death, 40 _n._

EVOLUTION in relation to Art, ii. 371 _sqq._

'EXERCITIA Spiritualia' (Loyola's), i. 236; manner of their use, 267 _sqq._

EXTINCTION of republics in Italy, i. 45 _sqq._

F

FABER, Peter, associate of Loyola, i. 239; his work as a Jesuit in Spain, 258.

FARNESE, Alessandro, see PAUL III.

---Giulia, mistress of Alexander VI., i. 81.

---Ottavio (grandson of Paul III.), Duke of Camerino, i. 86.

---Pier Luigi (son of Paul III.), Duke of Parma, i. 86.

FEDERATION, Italian, the five members of the, i. 3 _sqq._; how it was broken up, 11.

FERDINAND, Emperor, successor of Charles V., i. 102, 118; his relations with Canisius and the Jesuits, 259.

FERRARA, i. 7; settlement of the Duchy of, by Charles V., i. 40; life at the Court of, ii. 29, 65, 247, 251.

FERRUCCI, Francesco, i. 46.

FESTA, Costanzo, the Te Deum of, ii. 329.

FINANCES of the Papacy under Sixtus V., i. 152.

FIORENZA, Giovanni di, one of the assassins of Sarpi, ii. 212.

FLAMINIO, Marcantonio, i. 76.

FLEMISH musicians in Rome, ii. 316 _sqq._

FLORENCE: condition of the Republic in 1494, i. 10; Siege of the town (1530), 30 _sq._; capitulation, 46; under the rule of Spain, _ib._; extinction of the Republic, 47; the rule of Cosimo I., 49.

FORMALISM, the development of, i. 66.

FOSCARI, Francesco, the dogeship of, i. 9.

FRANCIS I.: his capture at Pavia, i. 9, 13.

FRECCI, Maddalò de', the betrayer of Tasso's love-affairs, ii. 51.

FREDERICK II., Emperor: his edicts against heresy, i. 163.

FREETHINKERS, Italian, i. 73 _sq._

FULGENZIO, Fra, the preaching of at Venice, ii. 207; his biography of Sarpi, _ib._

FULKE GREVILLE, a supper at the house of, described by Giordano Bruno, ii. 142, 147.

G

GALLICAN CHURCH, the: its interests in the Council of Trent, i. 126.

GALLUZZI'S record of Jesuit attempts to seduce youth, i. 284.

GATTINARA, Cardinal, Grand Chancellor of the Empire, i. 31.

GAMBARA, Veronica, i. 41.

GENERAL Congregation of the Jesuits, functions of the, i. 273.

GENERAL of the Jesuits, position of, in regard to the Order, i. 272.

GENOA, becomes subject to Spain, i. 18.

GENTILE, Valentino, i. 73.

GERSON'S Considerations upon Papal Excommunications, translated by Sarpi, ii. 200.

'GERUSALEMME Conquistata,' Tasso's, ii. 75, 114 _sq._, 124.

'GERUSALEMME Liberata:' at first called Gottifredo, ii. 35; its dedication, 38, 47 _sq._; submitted by Tasso to censors, 43; their criticisms, 43 _sq._, 50; successful publication of the poem, 71; its subject-matter, 92; the romance of the epic, 93; Tancredi, the hero, 94; imitations of Dante and Virgil, 95 _sqq._; artificiality, 100; pompous cadences, 101; oratorical dexterity, 102; the similes and metaphors, _ib._; Armida, the heroine, 106.

GHISLIERI, Michele, see PIUS V.

---Paolo, a relative of Pius V., i. 147.

GIBERTI, Gianmatteo, Bishop of Verona, i. 19.

GILLOT, Jacques, letter from Sarpi to, on the relations of Church and State, ii. 203.

GIOVANNI FRANCESCO, Fra, an accomplice in the attacks on Sarpi, ii. 214.

'GLI ETEREI,' Academy of, at Padua, ii. 26.

GOLDEN crown, the, significance of, i. 34.

GONGORISM, i. 66.

GONZAGA, Cardinal Ercole, ambassador from Clement VII. to Charles V., i. 19.

---Cardinal Scipione, a friend of Tasso, ii. 26, 42, 46, 67, 73.

---Don Ferrante, i. 25.

---Eleanora Ippolita, Duchess of Urbino, i. 37.

---Federigo, Marquis of Mantua, i. 26.

---Vincenzo, obtains Tasso's release, ii. 73; the circumstances of his marriage, i. 386.

'GOTTIFREDO.' Tasso's first title for the Gerusalemme Liberata, ii. 35.

GOUDIMEL, Claude: his school of music at Rome, ii. 323.

GRANADA, Treaty of, i. 12.

GRAND style (in art), the so-called, ii. 379.

GREGORY XIII., Pope (Ugo Buoncompagno): his early career and election, i. 149; manner of life, 150; treatment of his relatives, 151; revival of obsolete rights of the Church, 152; consequent confusion in the Papal States, _ib._

GRISON mercenaries in Italy, i. 103 _n._

GUARINI, on the death of Tasso, ii. 69 _n._; publishes a revised edition of Tasso's lyrics, 72; Guarini's parentage, 244; at the Court of Alfonso II. of Ferrara, 245; a rival of Tasso, _ib._; engaged on foreign embassies, 246; appointed Court poet, 247; domestic troubles, 249; his last years, 251; his death, _ib._; argument of the Pastor Fido, _ib._; satire upon the Court of Ferrara, 254; critique of the poem, 255; its style, 256; comparison with Tasso's Aminta, 275.

GUELF and Ghibelline contentions: how they ended in Italy, i. 57.

GUICCIARDINI, Francesco, i. 33.

GUISE, Duke of: his defeat by Alva, i. 103; his murder, 129.

GUZMAN, Domenigo de (S. Dominic), founder of the Dominican Order, i. 162.

H

HEGEMONY, Spanish, economical and social condition of the Italians under, i. 50; the evils of, 61.

HENCHENEOR, Cardinal William, i. 36.

HENRI III., favor shown to Giordano Bruno by, ii. 139.

HENRI IV., the murder of, i. 297.

HENRY VIII.: his divorce from Katharine of Aragon, i. 44.

HEROICO-comic poetry, Tassoni's Secchia Rapita, the first example of, ii. 303.

'HISTORY of the Council of Trent,' Sarpi's, ii. 222 _sqq._

HOLY Office, see INQUISITION.

HOLY Roman Empire, the, ii. 393.

HOMATA, Benedetta, attempted murder of by Gianpaolo Osio, i. 323 _sqq._

HOMICIDE, lax morality of the Jesuits in regard to, i. 306 _n._

HOSIUS, Cardinal, legate at Trent, i. 118.

HUMANISM, the work of, ii. 385, 391; what it involved, 392; Rationalism, its offspring, 404.

HUMANITY, the past and future of, ii. 408 _sqq._

I

IL BORGA, a censor of the Gerusalemme Liberata, ii. 43.

'IL Candelajo,' Giordano Bruno's comedy, ii. 131, 183.

IL GUERCINO (G.F. Barbieri), Bolognese painter, ii. 365; his masterpieces, 367.

'IL PADRE di Famiglio,' Tasso's Dialogue, ii. 63.

'IL Pentito,' Tasso's name as one of Gli Eterei, ii. 26.

INGEGNERI, Antonio, a friend of Tasso, ii. 64; publishes the Gerusalemme, 71.

INDEX Expurgatorius: its first publication at Venice, i. 192; effects on the printing trade there, 193; the Index in concert with the Inquisition, 194; origin of the Index, 195; local lists of prohibited books, _ib._; establishment of the Congregation of the Index, 197; Index of Clement VIII., 198; its preambles, _ib._; regulations, 199 _sq._; details of the censorship and correction of books, 201; rules as to printers, publishers, and booksellers, 203; responsibility of the Holy Office, 204; annoyances arising from delays and ignorance on the part of censors, 205; spiteful delators of charges of heresy, 207; extirpation of books, 208; proscribed literature, 209; garbled works by Vatican students, 210; effect of the Tridentine decree about the Vulgate, 212; influence of the Index on schools and lecture-rooms, 213; decline of humanism, 218; the statutes on the Ratio Status, 220; their object and effect, 221; the treatment of lewd and obscene publications, 223; expurgation of secular books, 224.

INQUISITION, the, i. 159 _sqq._; the first germ of the Holy Office, 161; developed during the crusade against the Albigenses, _ib._; S. Dominic its founder, 162; introduced into Lombardy, etc., 164; the stigma of heresy, 165; three types of Inquisition, 166; the number of victims, 166 _n._; the crimes of which it took cognizance, 167; the methods of the Apostolical Holy Office, 168; treatment of the New Christians in Castile, 169, 171; origin of the Spanish Holy Office, 170; opposition of Queen Isabella, 171; exodus of New Christians, 172; the punishments inflicted, _ib._; futile appeals to Rome, 173; constitution of the Inquisition, 174; its two most formidable features, 175; method of its judicial proceedings, 176; the sentence and its execution, 177; the holocausts and their pageant, _ib._; Torquemada's insolence, 179; the body-guard of the Grand Inquisitor, 180; number of Torquemada's victims, 181; exodus of Moors from Castile, 182; victims under Torquemada's successors, _ib._; an Aceldama at Madrid, 184; the Roman Holy Office, _ib._; remodelled by Giov. Paolo Caraffa, 185; 'Acts of Faith' in Rome, 186; numbers of the victims, 187; in other parts of Italy, 188; the Venetian Holy Office, 190; dependent on the State, _ib._; Tasso's dread of the Inquisition, ii. 42, 45, 49, 51; the case of Giordano Bruno, 134, 157 _sqq._; Sarpi denounced to the Holy Office, 195.

INTELLECTUAL and social activity in Italian cities, i. 51.

INTERDICT of Venice (1606), ii. 198 _sqq._; the compromise, 205.

INVASION, wars of, in Italy, i. 11 _sqq._

IRON crown, the, sent from Monza to Bologna, i. 36.

'ITALIA Liberata,' Trissino's, ii. 24, 303.

ITALIA Unita, ii. 407.

ITALY: its political conditions in 1494, i. 2 _sqq._; the five members of its federation, 3; how the federation was broken up, 11; the League between Clement VII. and Charles V., 31; review of the settlement of Italy effected by Emperor and Pope, 45 _sqq._; extinction of republics, 47; economical and social condition of the Italians under Spanish hegemony, 48; intellectual life, 51; predominance of Spain and Rome, 53 _sqq._; Italian servitude, 58; the evils of Spanish rule, 59 _sqq._; seven Spanish devils in Italy, 61; changes wrought by the Counter-Reformation, 64 _sqq._; criticism and formalism, 65; transition from the Renaissance to the Catholic Revival, _ib._; attitude of Italians towards the German Reformation, 71.

J

JESUITS, Order of: its importance in the Counter-Reformation, i. 229; the Diacatholicon, 231; works on the history of the Order, 231 _n._; sketch of the life of Ignatius Loyola, 231 _sqq._; the first foundation of the Exercitia, 236; Peter Faber and Francis Xavier, 239; the vows taken by Ignatius and his neophytes at Paris, 240; their proposed mission to the Holy Land, 241; their visits to Venice and Rome, 242 _sq._; the name of the Order, 244; negotiations in Rome, 245; the fourth vow, 246; the constitutions approved by Paul III., 247; the Directorium of Lainez, 249; the original limit of the number of members, _ib._; Loyola's administration, 250; asceticism deprecated, 251; worldly wisdom of the founder, 253; rapid spread of the Order, 254; the Collegium Romanum, 255; Collegium Germanicum, _ib._; the Order deemed rivals by the Dominicans in Spain, _ib._; successes in Portugal, 256; difficulties in France, 257; in the Low Countries, _ib._; in Bavaria and Austria, 258; Loyola's dictatorship, 259; his adroitness in managing distinguished members of his Order, 260; statistics of the Jesuits at Loyola's death, _ib._; the autocracy of the General, 261; Jesuit precepts on obedience, 263 _sq._; addiction to Catholicism, 266; the spiritual drill of the Exercitia Spiritualia, 267; materialistic imagination, 268; psychological adroitness of the method, 269; position and treatment of the novice, 270; the Jesuit Hierarchy, 271; the General, 272; five sworn spies to watch him, 273; a system of espionage through the Order, 274; position of a Jesuit, _ib._; the Black Pope, 275; the working of the Jesuit vow of poverty, 275 _sq._; revision of the Constitutions by Lainez, 277; the question about the Monita Secreta, 277 _sqq._; estimate of the historical importance of the Jesuits, 280 _sq._; their methods of mental tyranny, 281; Jesuitical education, 282; desire to gain the control of youth, 283; their general aim the aggrandizement of the Order, 284; treatment of _études fortes_, _ib._; admixture of falsehood and truth, 285; sham learning and sham art, 286; Jesuit morality, 287; manipulation of the conscience, 288; casuistical ethics, 290; system of confession and direction, 293; political intrigues and doctrines, 294 _sqq._; the theory of the sovereignty of the people, 296; Jesuit connection with political plots, 297; suspected in regard to the deaths of Popes, 298; the Order expelled from various countries, 299 _n._; relations of Jesuits to Rome, 299; their lax morality in regard to homicide, 306 _n._, 314; their support of the Interdict of Venice, ii. 198 _sqq._

JEWS, Spanish, wealth and influence of, i. 169; adoption of Christianity, _ib._; attacked by the Inquisition, 170; the edict for their expulsion, 171; its results, 172.

JULIUS II.: results of his martial energy, i. 7.

---III., Pope (Giov. Maria del Monte), i. 101.

K

KEPLER, high opinion of Bruno's speculations held by, ii. 164.

KINGDOMS and States of Italy in 1494, enumeration of, i. 3.

L

'LA Cuccagna,' a satire by Marino, ii. 263.

LAINEZ, James, associate of Ignatius Loyola, i. 240; his influence on the development of the Jesuits, 248; his commentary on the Constitutions (the Directorium), 249; his work in Venice, etc., 254; abject submission to Loyola, 262.

LATERAN, Council of the, i. 95.

LATIN and Teutonic factors in European civilization, ii. 393 _sqq._

LATINI, Latino, on the extirpation of books by the Index, i. 208.

LEGATES, Papal, at Trent, i. 97 _n._, 119.

LE JAY, Claude, associate of Ignatius Loyola, i. 240; his work as a Jesuit at Ferrara, 254; in Austria. 258.

LEONI, Giambattista, employed by Sarpi to write against the Jesuits, ii. 200.

LEPANTO, battle of, i. 149.

LESCHASSIER, Sarpi's letters to, ii. 229, 235.

'LE Sette Giornate,' Tasso's, ii. 75, 115, 124.

LEYVA, Antonio de, at Bologna, i. 22.

---Virginia Maria de (the Lady of Monza): birth and parentage, i. 317; a nun in a convent of the Umiliate, 318; her seduction by Gianpaolo Osio, 318 _sqq._; birth of her child, 321; murder of her waiting-woman by Osio, 322; the intrigue discovered, 323; attempted murder by Osio of two of her associates, 324; Virginia's punishment and after-life, 329.

LONDON, Bruno's account of the life of the people of, ii. 142; social life in, 143.

LORENTE'S History of the Inquisition, cited, 171 _sqq._; his account of the number of victims of the Holy Office, i. 181, 183 _n._

LORRAINE, Cardinal: his influence in the Council of Trent, i. 125 _sq._

LO SPAGNOLETTO (Giuseppe Ribera), Italian Realist painter, ii. 363.

LOUISA of Savoy, one of the arrangers of the Paix des Dames, i. 16.

LOUIS XII.: his descent into Lombardy, and its results, i. 9; allied with the Austrian Emperor and the King of Spain, i. 12.

LOYOLA, Ignatius, founder of the Jesuits: his birth and childhood, i. 231; his youth and early training, _ib._; illness at Pampeluna, 232; pilgrimage to Montserrat, 234; retreat at Manresa, _ib._; his romance and discipline, 235; journey to the Holy Land, 237; his apprenticeship to his future calling, _ib._; imprisoned by the Inquisition, 238; studies theology in Paris, _ib._; gains disciples there, 239; his methods with them, _ib._; with ten companions takes the vows of chastity and poverty, 240; Ignatius at Venice, 241; his relations with Caraffa and the Theatines, 242; in Rome, 243; the name of the new Order, 244; its military organization, 245; the project favored by Paul III., _ib._; the Constitution approved by the Pope, 247; his worldly wisdom, 248 _n._; Loyola's creative force, 249; his administration, 250 _sq._; dislike of the common forms of monasticism, 251; his aims and principles, 252; comparison with Luther, 253; rapid spread of the Order, 254; special desire of Ignatius to get a firm hold on Germany, 258; his dictatorship, 259; adroitness in managing his subordinates, 260; autocratic administration, 261; insistence on the virtue of obedience, 263; devotion to the Roman Church, 265; the Exercitia Spiritualia, 267 _sqq._; Loyola's dislike of asceticism, 270; his interpretation of the vow of poverty, 275; his instructions as to the management of consciences, 287 _sq._; his doctrine on the fear of God, 304 _n._

LUCERO EL TENEBROSO, the Spanish Inquisitor, i. 180.

LUINI'S picture of S. Catherine, ii. 360.

LULLY, Raymond: his Art of Memory and Classification of the Sciences, adapted by Giordano Bruno, ii. 139.

LUNA, Don Juan de, i. 47.

LUTHER, Bruno's high estimate of, ii. 149; his relation to modern civilization, 402.

LUTHERAN soldiers in Italy, i. 44.

LUTHERANISM in Italy, i. 185.

M

MACAULAY, Lord, on Sarpi's religious opinions, ii. 227 _n._; critique of his survey of the Catholic Revival, 400 _sqq._

MAIN events in modern history, the, ii. 383 _sqq._

MALATESTA, Roberto, leader of bandits in the Papal States, i. 152.

MALIPIERO, Alessandro, a friend of Sarpi, ii. 210.

MALVASIA, Count C.C., writings of, on the Bolognese painters, ii. 350 _n._

MANRESA, Ignatius Loyola at, i. 234.

MANRIQUE, Thomas, Master of the Sacred Palace, an expurgated edition of the Decamerone issued by, i. 224.

MANSO, Marquis: his Life of Tasso, ii. 54, 56, 58, 64, 70, 115; friend of Marino in his youth, 261.

MANTUA, raised to the rank of a duchy, i. 27.

MANUZIO, Aldo (the younger), ill-treatment of, in Rome, i. 217 _sq._

---Paolo: works produced at his press in Rome, i. 220; a friend of Chiabrera, ii. 287.

MARCELLUS II., Pope (Marcello Cervini), i. 97, 101.

MARGARET of Austria, one of the arrangers of the Paix des Dames, i. 16.

MARIANAZZO, a robber chief, refusal of pardon by, i. 309.

MARIGNANO, Marquis of (Gian Giacomo Medici), i. 109, 115.

MARINISM, i. 66; ii. 299, 302.

MARINO, Giovanni Battista: his birth and parentage, ii. 260; escapades of his youth in Naples, 261; at the Court of Carlo Emanuele, 262; his life in Turin, _ib._; at the Court of Maria de'Medici, 263; successful publication of the Adone, 264; return to Naples, 265; critique of the Adone, 266 _sq._; the Epic of Voluptuousness, 268; its effeminate sensuality, 268 _sq._; cynical hypocrisy, 270; the character of Adonis, 272; ugliness and discord, 273; Marino's poetic gifts, 274; great variety of episodes, 276; unity of theme, 277; purity of poetic style rarely attained, 279; false rhetoric, 280; Marinism, 281; verbal fireworks, 282; Marino's real inadequacy, 285; the _Pianto d'Italia_, 286; comparison of Marino with Chiabrera, 296.

MARTELLI, Giovan Battista, a bravo attendant on Lorenzino de'Medici, i. 396.

MARTUCCIA, a notorious Roman courtesan, i. 375.

MASANIELLO, cause of the rising of, in Naples, i. 49.

MASSACRE of S. Bartholomew, i. 55, 149.

MASSIMI, Eufrosina (second wife of Lelio Massimi), the murder of, i. 354 _sq._

---Lelio: violent deaths of the five sons whom he cursed, i. 355 _sq._

'MATERIE Beneficiarie, Delle,' Sarpi's, ii. 219.

MAXIMILIAN, Emperor, allied against Venice with Louis XII., i. 12.

MAZZOLA, Francesco (Il Parmigianino), i. 42.

MEDA, Caterina da (waiting-woman of Virginia de Leyva), murder of, i. 322.

MEDIAEVAL habits, survival of, in Italy in the sixteenth century, i. 306.

MEDICI, de', family of: their advances towards Despotism, i. 10; violent deaths of members, 382 _sqq._; eleven murdered in a half-century, 387.

---Alessandro, Duke of Florence, i. 19, 46, 388.

---Cosimo, i. 46; made Grand Duke of Tuscany, 47.

---Giovanni, i. 11.

---Ippolito, i. 19.

---Lorenzino, assassination of his cousin Alessandro (Duke of Florence) by, i. 388; details of his own murder, 389 _sqq._

---Lorenzo, i. 10.

---Maria, the Court of, as Regent of France, ii. 263.

---Piero, i. 10.

MEDICI, Gian Giacomo (brother of Pius IV.), i. 50, 109.

---Giovanni Angelo, see PIUS IV.

---Margherita (sister of Pius IV.), mother of Carlo Borromeo, i. 115 _n._

MENDOZA, Don Hurtado de, i. 47.

MERSENNE, evidence of, as to the burning of Giordano Bruno, ii. 164 _n._

METAPHYSICAL speculators in Italy, i. 73.

METAURUS, the, Tasso's ode to, ii. 63.

METEMPSYCHOSIS, Bruno's doctrine of, ii. 160.

MEXICO, the early Jesuits in, i. 260.

MIANI, Girolamo, founder of the congregation of the Somascans, i. 79; his relations with Loyola, 242.

MICANZI, Fulgenzio, see FULGENZIO, FRA.

MILAN, Duchy of: its state in 1494, i. 8.

MOCENIGO, Giovanni: his character, ii. 152; invites Giordano Bruno to Venice, 153; the object of the invitation, 154; their intercourse, 155; Bruno denounced to the Inquisition by Mocenigo, 157.

---Luigi, on the relations between Pius IV. and Cardinal Morone, i. 110 _n._

MODENA and Bologna, humors of the conflict between, ii. 304.

MONOPOLIES, system of, in Italy, i. 49.

MONTALTO, Cardinal, nephew of Sixtus V., i. 157.

MONTEBELLO, Baron, the tale of, i. 428.

MONTECATINO, Antonio, an enemy of Tasso at Ferrara, ii. 48, 50, 60, 62; his downfall, 66.

MONTE OLIVETO, the monastery of, Tasso at, ii, 74.

MONZA, the Lady of, see LEYVA, VIRGINIA MARIA DE.

MORALS, social and domestic, in Italy, effect of the Catholic Revival on, i. 301 _sqq._; outcome of the Tridentine decrees, 302; hypocrisy and ceremonial observances, 303; sufferings of the lower classes, _ib._; increase of crimes of violence, 304; mistrust between the aristocracy and the bourgeoisie, 306; survival of mediaeval habits, _ib._; brigandage, 307; criminal procedure, 308; mutual jealousy of States afforded security to refugee homicides, 309; toleration of outlaws, 310; the Lucchese army of bandits, 311; honorable murder, 312; maintenance of bravi, _ib._; social violence countenanced by the Church, 314; sexual morality, 315; state of convents, 316; profligate fanaticism, _ib._; convent intrigues, 318 _sqq._

MORATO, Peregrino, letter from Celio Calcagnini to, i. 74.

MORNAY, Duplessis, Sarpi's letters to, ii. 229.

MORONE, Cardinal, i. 26; Papal legate at Trent, 97 _n._; imprisoned by Paul IV., 110; relations with Pius IV., _ib._; liberal thinkers among his associates, 111 _n._; his work in connection with the Council of Trent, 127.

---Girolamo, i. 26, 72.

MUNICIPAL wars, Italian, ii. 304.

MURDERS in Italy in the sixteenth century, i. 305 _sqq._

MURETUS: his difficulties as a professor in Rome, i. 214, 216.

MURTOLA, Gasparo, attempted assassination of the poet Marino by, ii. 263.

MUSIC, Italian, decadence of, in the sixteenth century, ii. 315; foreign musicians in Rome, 316; the contrapuntal style, 317; licenses allowed to performers, _ib._; the medleys prepared by composers, _ib._; disgraceful condition of Church music, 318; orchestral ricercari, 320 _n._; Savonarola's opinion of the Church music of his time, _ib._; musical aptitude of the people, 322; lack of a controlling element of correct taste, _ib._; advent of Palestrina, _ib._; the Congregation for the Reform of Music, 325; rise of the Oratorio, 334; music in England in the sixteenth century, 338; rise of the Opera, 340.

MUSICIANS, Italian, of the seventeenth cenutry, ii. 243.

N

NAPLES, kingdom of, separated from Sicily, i. 4; its extent, _ib._; in the hands of Spain, 12.

NASSAU, Count of, i. 38.

NATURE, the study of, among Italian philosophers, ii. 128.

NEPOTISM, Papal: the Caraffas, i. 104 _sq._; the Borromeos, 115; the Ghislieri, 147; Gregory XIII.'s relatives, 151; estimate of the incomes of Papal nephews, 156 _sqq._

NEW Christians, the, in Spain, see JEWS.

NOBILI, Flaminio de', a censor of the Gerusalemme Liberata, ii. 43.

NOLA, survival of Greek customs in, ii. 132.

NOVICES, Jesuit, position of, i. 271.

NUNNERIES, state of, in the sixteenth century, i. 315 _sqq._

O

OMERO, Fuggiguerra, sobriquet chosen by Tasso in his wanderings, ii. 64.

OPERA, rise of the, in Florence, ii. 341.

ORANGE, Prince of, leader of the Spanish army in the siege of Florence, i. 18.

ORATORIO (Musical), the: its origins in Rome, ii. 334.

ORATORY of Divine Love, the, i. 76.

ORSINI, the, reduced to submission to the Popes, i. 7.

---Paolo Giordano (Duke of Bracciano): his passion for Vittoria Accoramboni, i. 358; his gigantic stature and corpulence, 359; poisons his first wife, 360; treatment by Sixtus V., 363; secret marriage with Vittoria, 364; renounces the marriage, 365; ratifies the union by public marriage, 366; flight from Rome, _ib._: death of the Duke, 367.

---Prince Lodovico: procures the murder of Vittoria Accoramboni and her brother, i. 368; siege of his palace, 370; his violent death, 371.

---Troilo, lover of the Duchess of Bracciano, i. 360; details of his murder by Ambrogio Tremazzi, 405 _sqq._

OSIO, Gianpaolo: his intrigue with Virginia de Leyva, i. 318 _sqq._; murders her waiting-woman, 322; attempts to murder two other nuns, 324; his letter of defence to Cardinal Federigo Borromeo, 326; condemned to death and outlawed, 327; terms of the Bando, 328; his end, 329.

OSORIO, Don Alvaro, Grand Marshal of Spain, i. 22.

OUTLAWRY in Italy in the sixteenth century, i. 307 _sqq._

OXFORD, Giordano Bruno's reception at, ii. 144.

P

PACHECO, Cardinal, the foe of the Caraffeschi, i. 105.

PADUAN school of scepictism, the, influence of, on Tasso, ii. 20.

PAGANELLO, Conte, assassin of Vittoria Accoramboni, i. 371.

PAINTING in the late years of the sixteenth century, ii. 344; Eclecticism, 345; influence of the Tridentine Council, 347; the Mannerists, 348; Baroccio, 349; the Caracci, 350 _sqq._; studies of the Bolognese painters, 352; academical ideality, 354; Guido, Albani, Domenichino, 355 _sqq._; criticism of Domenichino's work, 359; the Italian Realists, 363 _sqq._; Lo Spada, 364; Il Guercino, 365; critical reaction against the Eclectics, 368; fundamental principles of criticism, 370 _sqq._

PAIX des Dames, i. 9, 16.

PALAZZO Vernio, Academy (musical) of the, ii. 340; distinguished composers of its school, 341.

PALEARIO, Aonio: his opinion of the Index, i. 197, 214.

PALESTRINA, Giovanni Pier Luigi: his birth and early musical training, ii. 323; uneventful life of the Princeps Musicae, 324; relations with the Congregation for Musical Reform, 325; the legend and the facts about Missa Papae Marcelli, 326 _sqq._, 331 _n._; Palestrina's commission, 331; the three Masses in competition, 332; the award by the Congregation and the Pope, 334; Palestrina's connection with S. Filippo Neri, 334; Arie Divote composed for the Oratory, 335 _sq._; character of the new music, 335; influence of Palestrina on Italian music, 336; estimate of the general benefit derived by music from him, 337 _sq._

PALLAVICINI, on Paul IV.'s seal for the Holy Office, i. 107 _n._

PALLAVICINO, Matteo, murder of, by Marcello Accoramboni, i. 358.

PALLIANO, Duchess of, see CARDONA, VIOLANTE DE.

---Duke of (nephew of Paul IV.), murders committed by, i. 379; his execution, 380.

PANCIROLI, Guido, Tasso's master in the study of law, ii. 20.

PAPACY, the, its position after the sack of Rome, i. 13; tyranny of, arising from the instinct of self-preservation, 54; dislike of, for General Councils, 90; manipulation of the Council of Trent, 97 _sqq._, 119 _sqq._; its supremacy founded by that Council, 131; later policy of the Popes, 149 _sqq._, 226.

PAPAL States, the: their condition in 1447, i. 5; attempts to consolidate them into a kingdom, 6.

PARMA and Piacenza, creation of the Duchy of, by Paul III., i. 86.

PARMA, Duchy of, added to the States of the Church, i. 7.

PARMIGIANINO, Il, painting of Charles V. by, i. 42.

PARRASIO, Alessandro, one of the assassins of Sarpi, ii. 212.

PART-SONGS, French Protestant, influence of, on Palestrina, ii. 324.

PASSARI, Pietro, amours of, with the nuns of S. Chiara, Lucca, i. 340 _sq._

'PASTOR Fido,' Guarini's, critique of, ii. 252 _sqq._

PAUL III., Pope, sends Contarini to the conference at Rechensburg, i. 78; receives a memorial on ecclesiastical abuses, 79; establishes the Roman Holy Office, 80; sanctions the Company of Jesus, _ib._; his early life and education, 81; love of splendor, 82; peculiarity of his position, _ib._; the Pope of the transition, 84; jealous of Spanish ascendency in Italy, 85; creates the Duchy of Parma for his son, 86 _sqq._; members of the moderate reforming party made Cardinals, 88; his repugnance to a General Council, 90; indiction of a Council to be held at Trent, 97; difficulties of his position, 100; his death, 101; his connection with the founding of the Jesuit Order, 245.

PAUL IV., Pope, see CARAFFA, GIOV. PIETRO.

PAUL V., Pope: details of his nepotism, i. 157 _n._; places Venice under an interdict, ii. 198.

PAVIA, the battle of, 13.

PELLEGRINI, Cammillo, panegyrist of Tasso, ii. 72.

PEPERARA, Laura, Tasso's relations with, ii. 31.

PERETTI, Felice (nephew of Sixtus V.), husband of Vittoria Accoramboni, i. 357; his murder, 358.

PESCARA, Marquis of, husband of Vittoria Colonna, i. 25.

'PESTE di S. Carlo, La,' i. 421.

'PETRARCA, Considerazioni sopra le Rime, del,' Tassoni's, ii. 298, 300.

PETRONI, Lucrezia, second wife of Francesco Cenci, i. 348 _sq._

PETRONIO, S., Bologna, reception of Charles V. by Clement VII. at, i. 23; the Emperor's coronation at, 37 _sqq._

PETRUCCI, Pandolfo, seduction of two sons of, by the Jesuits, i. 284.

PHILIP II. of Spain: his quarrel with Paul IV., i. 102; the reconciliation, 104.

PHILOSOPHERS of Southern Italy in the sixteenth century, ii. 126 _sqq._

PIACENZA, added to the States of the Church, i. 7.

PICCOLOMINI, Alfonso, leader of bandits in the Papal States, i. 152.

'PIETRO Soave Polano,' anagram of 'Paolo Sarpi Veneto,' ii. 223.

PIGNA (secretary to the Duke of Ferrara), a rival of Tasso, ii. 34, 45, 48.

PINDAR, the professed model of Chiabrera's poetry, ii. 291, 294.

PIRATES, raids of, on Italy, i. 417.

PISA, first Council of, i. 92; the second, 95.

PIUS IV., Pope (Giov. Angelo Medici): his parentage, i. 109; Caraffa's antipathy to him, 110; makes Cardinal Morone his counsellor, _ib._; negotiations with the autocrats of Europe, 111; his diplomatic character, 112; the Tridentine decrees, _ib._; keen insight into the political conditions of his time, 113; independent spirit, 115; treatment of his relatives, _ib._; his brother's death helped him to the Papacy, _ib._; the felicity of his life, 116; the religious condition of Northern Europe in his reign, 117; re-opening of the Council of Trent, 119; his management of the difficulties connected with the Council, 127 _sqq._; use of cajoleries and menaces, 129; success of the Pope's plans, 130; his Bull of ratification of the Tridentine decrees, 131; his last days, 132; estimate of the work of his reign, 133 _sqq._; his lack of generosity, 142; coldness in religious exercises, 144; love of ease and good companions, 147.

PIUS V., Pope (Michele Ghislieri): his election, i. 137; influence of Carlo Borromeo on him, 137, 145, 147; ascetic virtues, 145; zeal for the Holy Office, 145; edict for the expulsion of prostitutes from Rome, 146; his exercise of the Papal Supremacy, 148; his Tridentine Profession of Faith, _ib._; advocates rigid uniformity, 148; promotes attacks on Protestants, _ib._

PLAGUES: in Venice, i. 418; at Naples and in Savoy, _ib._; statistics of the mortality, 418 _n._; disease supposed to be wilfully spread by malefactors, 420.

POETRY, Heroic, the problem of creating, in Italy, ii. 80.

POLAND, the crown of, sought by Italian princes, ii. 246.

POLE, Cardinal Reginald, i. 76; Papal legate at Trent, 97 _n._

POMA, Ridolfo, one of the assassins of Sarpi, ii. 212.

POMPONIUS LAETUS, the teacher of Paul III., i. 81, 82.

POPULAR melodies employed in Church music in the sixteenth century, ii. 318.

PORTRAIT of Charles V. by Titian, i. 42.

'PRESS, Discourse upon the,' Sarpi's, ii. 220.

'PRINCEPS Musicae,' the title inscribed on Palestrina's tomb, ii. 325.

PRINTING: effects of the Index Expurgatorius on the trade in Venice, i. 192; firms denounced by name by Paul IV., 198, 208.

PROFESSED of three and of four vows (Jesuit grades), i. 271 _sq._

PROLETARIATE, the Italian, social morality of in the sixteenth century, i. 224 _sqq._

PROSTITUTES, Roman, expulsion of by Pius V., i. 146.

PROTESTANT Churches in Italy, persecution of, i. 186.

PROTESTANTISM in Italy, i. 71.

PROVINCES, Jesuit, enumeration of the, i. 161.

PUNCTILIO in the Sei Cento, ii. 288.

PURISTS, Tuscan, Tassoni's ridicule of, ii. 308.

PUTEO, Cardinal, legate at Trent, i. 119.

Q

QUEMADERO, the Inquisition's place of punishment at Seville, i. 178.

QUENTIN, S., battle of, i. 103.

QUERRO, Msgr., an associate of the Cenci family, i. 349, 350, 352.

R

'RAGGUAGLI di Parnaso,' Boccalini's, ii. 313.

RANGONI, the, friends of Tasso and of his father, ii. 6, 23.

'RATIO Status,' statutes of the Index on the, i. 220.

RATIONALISM, the real offspring of Humanism, ii. 404.

RAVENNA, exarchate of, i. 7.

REALISTS, Italian school of painters, ii. 363 _sqq._

RECHENSBURG, the conference at, i. 78, 88

'RECITATIVO,' Claudio Monteverde the pioneer of, ii. 341.

REFORMATION, the: position of Italians towards its doctrines, i. 72.

REFORMING theologians in Italy, i. 76 _sq._

RELIGIOUS Orders, new, foundation of, in Italy, i. 79 _sq._

RELIGIOUS spirit of the Italian Church in the sixteenth century, i. 71.

RENAISSANCE and Reformation: the impulses of both simultaneously received by England, ii. 388.

RENÉE of France, Duchess of Ferrara, i. 77.

RENI, Guido, Bolognese painter, ii. 355; his masterpieces, 358.

REPUBLICAN governments in Italy, i. 5.

RETROSPECT over the Renaissance, ii. 389 _sqq._

REYNOLDS, Sir Joshua, admiration of, for the Bolognese painters, ii. 359, 375.

RIBERA, Giuseppe, see LO SPAGNOLETTO.

RICEI, Ottavia, attempted murder of, by Gianpaolo Osio, i. 323 _sqq._

'RICERCARI,' employment of, in Italian music, ii. 343.

RINALDO, Tasso's, first appearance of, ii. 22; its preface, 82; its subject-matter, 84; its religious motive, 86; its style, 86 _sqq._

RODRIGUEZ d'Azevedo, Simon, associate of Ignatius Loyola, i. 240; his work as a Jesuit in Portugal, 256, 262.

ROMAN University, the, degraded condition of, in the sixteenth century, i. 216.

ROME, fluctuating population of, i. 137; eleemosynary paupers, 139; reform of Roman manners after the Council of Trent, 141; expulsion of prostitutes, 146; Roman society in Gregory XIII.'s reign, 152; the headquarters of Catholicism, ii. 397; relations with the Counter-Reformation, 398; the complicated correlation of Italians with Papal Rome, 399; the capital of a regenerated people, 408.

RONDINELLI, Ercole, Tasso's instructions to, in regard to his MSS., ii. 35.

ROSSI, Bastiano de', a critic of the Gerusalemme Liberata, ii. 72.

---Porzia de' (mother of Torquato Tasso): her parentage, ii. 5, 7; her marriage, 7; her death, probably by poison, 9; her character, 12; Torquato's love for her, 15.

---Vittorio de': his description of the ill-treatment of Aldo Manuzio in Rome, i. 217 _sq._

ROVERE, Francesco della (Duke of Urbino), account of, i. 36.

RUBBIERA, a fief of the Empire, i. 40.

RUSKIN, Mr., on the cause of the decline of Venice, i. 423 _n._; invectives of, against Domenichino's work, ii. 359.

S

SACRED Palace, the Master of the: censor of books in Rome, i. 201.

SALMERON, Alfonzo, associate of Ignatius Loyola, i. 240; in Naples and Sicily, 254.

SALUZZO ceded to Savoy, i. 56.

SALVIATI, Leonardo, a critic of the Gerusalemme Liberata, ii. 72.

SAMMINIATI, Tommaso, intrigue and correspondence of, with Sister Umilia (Lucrezia Buonvisi), i. 341 _sqq._; banished from Lucca, 344.

S. ANNA, the hospital of, Tasso's confinement at, ii. 66 _sqq._

SAN BENITO, the costume of persons condemned by the Inquisition, i. 177.

SANSEVERINO, Amerigo, a friend of Bernardo Tasso, ii. 14.

---Ferrante di, Prince of Salerno, i. 38; ii. 6 _sqq._

SANTA CROCE, Ersilia di, first wife of Francesco Cenci, i. 347.

SANVITALE, Eleonora, Tasso's love-affair with, ii. 48.

SARDINIA, the island of, a Spanish province, i. 45.

SARPI, Fra Paolo: his birth and parentage, ii. 185; his position in the history of Venice, 186; his physical constitution, 189; moral temperament, 190; mental perspicacity, 191; discoveries in magnetism and optics, 192; studies and conversation, 193; early entry into the Order of the Servites, _ib._; his English type of character, 194; denounced to the Inquisition, 195; his independent attitude, 196; his great love for Venice, 197; the interdict of 1606, 198; Sarpi's defence of Venice against the Jesuits, 199 _sqq._; pamphlet warfare, 201; importance of this episode, 202; Sarpi's theory of Church and State, 203; boldness of his views, 205; compromise of the quarrel of the interdict, _ib._; Sarpi's relations with Fra Fulgenzio, 207; Sarpi warned by Schoppe of danger to his life, 208; attacked by assassins, 209; the Stilus Romanae Curiae, 211; history of the assassins, 212; complicity of the Papal Court, 213; other attempts on Sarpi's life, 214 _sq._; his opinion of the instigators, 216; his so called heresy, 218; his work as Theologian to the Republic, 219; his minor writings, 221; his opposition to Papal Supremacy, _ib._; the History of the Council of Trent, 222; its sources, 223; its argument, 224; deformation, not reformation, wrought by the Council, 225; Sarpi's impartiality, 226; was Sarpi a Protestant? 228; his religious opinions, 229; views on the possibility of uniting Christendom, 230; hostility to ultra-papal Catholicism, 231; critique of Jesuitry, 233; of ultramontane education, 235; the Tridentine Seminaries, 235; Sarpi's dread lest Europe should succumb to Rome, 237; his last days, 238; his death contrasted with that of Giordano Bruno, 239 _n._; his creed, 239; Sarpi a Christian Stoic, 240.

SARPI, citations from his writings, on the Papal interpretation of the Tridentine decrees, i. 131 _n._; details of the nepotism of the Popes, 156 _n._, 157 _n._; denunciation of the Index, 197 _n._, 206, 208 _n._; on the revival of polite learning, 215; on the political philosophy of the statutes of the Index, 221; on the Inquisition rules regarding emigrants from Italy, 227 _sq._; his invention of the name 'Diacatholicon,' 231; on the deflection of Jesuitry from Loyola's spirit and intention, 248; on the secret statutes of the Jesuits, 278; denunciations of Jesuit morality, 289 _n._; on the murder of Henri IV., 297 _n._; on the instigators of the attempts on his own life, ii. 215 _n._; on the attitude of the Roman Court towards murder, 216; on the literary polemics of James I., 229; on Jesuit education and the Tridentine Seminaries, 237.

SAVONAROLA'S opinion of the Church music of his time, ii. 320 _n._

SAVOY, the house of: its connection with important events in Italy, i. 16 _n._, 38, 56; becomes an Italian dynasty, 58.

'SCHERNO DEGLI DEI,' Bracciolini's, ii. 313.

SCHOLASTICS (Jesuit grade), i. 271.

SCHOPPE (Scioppius), Gaspar: sketch of his career, ii. 165, 208; his account of Bruno's heterodox opinions, 166; description of the last hours of Bruno, 167.

'SECCHIA RAPITA, LA,' Tassoni's, ii. 301 _sqq._

SECONDARY writers of the Sei Cento, ii. 313.

SEI CENTO, the, decline of culture in Italy in, ii. 242; its musicians, 243.

SEMINARIES, Tridentine, ii. 235.

SERIPANDO, Cardinal, legate at Trent, i. 118.

SERSALE, Alessandro and Antonio, Tasso's nephews, ii. 72.

---Cornelia (sister of Tasso), ii. 7, 9, 15 _sq._, 55, 64; her children, 72.

SERVITES, General of the, complicity of, in the attempts on Sarpi's life, ii. 214.

SETTLEMENT of Italy effected by Charles V. and Clement VII., net results of, i. 45 _sqq._

'SEVEN Liberal Arts, On the,' a lost treatise by Giordano Bruno, ii. 156, 182.

SFORZA, Francesco Maria, his relations with Charles V., i. 28.

---Lodovico (Il Moro, ruler of Milan), invites Charles VIII. into Italy, i. 8.

SICILY, separated from Naples, i. 4.

SIENA, republic of, subdued by Florence, i. 47.

'SIGNS of the Times, The,' a lost work by Giordano Bruno, ii. 136.

SIGONIUS: his History of Bologna blocked by the Index, i. 207.

SIMONETA, Cardinal, legate at Trent, i. 118, 121.

SIXTUS V., Pope: short-sighted hoarding of treasure by, i. 153; his enactments against brigandage, 152; accumulation of Papal revenues, _ib._; public works, 153; animosity against pagan art, _ib._; works on and about S. Peter's, 154; methods of increasing revenue, 155; nepotism, 157; development of the Papacy in his reign, 158; his death predicted by Bellarmino, 298; his behavior after the murder of his nephew (Felice Peretti), 362.

SODERINI, Alessandro, assassinated together with his nephew Lorenzino de'Medici, i. 398.

SOLIMAN, Paul IV.'s negotiations with, i. 103.

SOMASCAN Fathers, Congregation of the, i. 79.

S. ONOFRIO, Tasso's death at, ii. 78; the mask of his face at, 116.

SORANZO, on the character of Pius IV., i. 111 _n._; on Carlo Borromeo, 116 _n._; on the changes in Roman society in 1565, 143.

'SPACCIO della Bestia Trionfante, Lo,' Giordano Bruno's, ii. 132 _n._, 140, 165, 183 _sq._

SPADA, Lionello, Bolognese painter, ii. 364.

SPAIN: its position in Italy after the battle of Pavia, i. 14.

SPANIARDS of the sixteenth century, character of, i. 59.

SPERONI, Sperone: his criticism of Tasso's Gerusalemme, ii. 44; a friend of Chiabrera, 287.

SPHERE, the, Giordano Bruno's doctrine of, ii. 135, 144 _sq._

STENDHAL, De (Henri Beyle): his Chroniques et Nouvelles cited: on the Cenci, i. 351 _sq._; the Duchess of Palliano, 373.

STERILITY of Protestantism, ii. 401.

STROZZI, Filippo, i. 46.

---Piero, i. 47.

T

TASSO, Bernardo (father of Torquato), i. 38; his birth and parentage, ii. 5; the Amadigi, 7, 11, 18, 35; his youth and marriage, 7; misfortunes, _ib._; exile and poverty, 8; death of his wife, 9; his death, 10, 35; his character, _ib._; his Floridante, 35.

---Christoforo (cousin of Torquato), ii. 14.

---Torquato: his relation to his epoch, ii. 2; to the influences of Italian decadence, 4; his father's position, 6; Torquato's birth, 7; the death of his mother, 9, 15; what Tasso inherited from his father, 11; Bernardo's treatment of his son, _ib._; Tasso's precocity as a child, 12; his early teachers, _ib._; pious ecstasy in his ninth year, 13; with his father in Rome, 14; his first extant letter, 15; his education, 16; with his father at the Court of Urbino, 17; mode of life here, 18; acquires familiarity with Virgil, 19; studies and annotates the Divina Commedia, _ib._; metaphysical studies and religious doubts, 20; reaction, _ib._; the appearance of the Rinaldo, 21; leaves Padua for Bologna, _ib._; Dialogues on the Art of Poetry, 22, 24, 26; flight to Modena, 22; speculations upon Poetry, 23; Tasso's theory of the Epic, 24; he joins the Academy 'Gli Eterei' at Padua, as 'Il Pentito,' 26; enters the service of Luigi d'Este, 27; life at the Court of Ferrara, 28; Tasso's love-affairs, 31; the problem of his relations with Leonora and Lucrezia d'Este, 32 _sqq._, 48, 51; quarrel with Pigna, 34; his want of tact, _ib._; edits his Floridante, 35; visit to Paris, _ib._; the Gottifredo (_Gerusalemme Liberata_), 35, 38, 42, 48, 50; his instructions to Rondinelli, _ib._; life at the Court of Charles IX., 36; rupture with Luigi d'Este, 38; enters the service of Alfonso, Duke of Ferrara, _ib._; renewed relations with Leonora, _ib._; production and success of Aminta, 39; relations with Lucrezia d'Este (Duchess of Urbino), _ib._; his letters to Leonora, 41; his triumphant career, _ib._; submits the Gerusalemme to seven censors, 43; their criticisms, _ib._; literary annoyances, 44; discontent with Ferrara, 45; Tasso's sense of his importance, _ib._; the beginning of his ruin, 46; he courts the Medici, 47; action of his enemies at Ferrara, 48; doubts as to his sanity, 49; his dread of the Inquisition, _ib._; persecution by the courtiers, 50; revelation of his love affairs by Maddalò de'Frecci, 51; Tasso's fear of being poisoned, _ib._; outbreak of mental malady, 52; temporary imprisonment, _ib._; estimate of the hypothesis that Tasso feigned madness, 53; his escape from the Convent of S. Francis, 54; with his sister at Sorrento, 55; hankering after Ferrara, 56; his attachment to the House of Este, 57; terms on which he is received back, 58; second flight from Ferrara, 61; at Venice, Urbino, Turin, 63; 'Omero Fuggiguerra,' 64; recall to Ferrara, 65; imprisoned at S. Anna, 66; reasons for his arrest, 67; nature of his malady, 69; life in the hospital, 71; release and wanderings, 73; the Torrismondo, _ib._; work on the Gerusalemme Conquistata and the Sette Giornate, 75; last years at Naples and Rome, 76; at S. Onofrio, 76; death, 78; imaginary Tassos, 79; condition of romantic and heroic poetry in Tasso's youth, 80; his first essay in poetry, 81; the preface to Rinaldo, 82; subject-matter of the poem, 84; its religious motive, 86; Latinity of diction, _ib._; weak points of style, 88; lyrism and idyll, 89; subject of the Gerusalemme Liberata, 92; its romance, 94; imitation of Virgil, 97; of Dante, 97, 99; rhetorical artificiality, 100; sonorous verses, 101; oratorical dexterity, 102; similes and metaphors, _ib._; majestic simplicity, 104; the heroine, 106; Tasso, the poet of Sentiment, 108; the Non so che, 109 _sq._; Sofronia, Erminia, Clorinda, 109 _sqq._; the Dialogues and the tragedy Torrismondo, 113; the Gerusalemme Conquistata and Le Sette Giornate, 115, 124; personal appearance of Tasso, 115; general survey of his character, 116 _sqq._; his relation to his age, 120; his mental attitude, 122; his native genius, 124.

TASSONI, Alessandro: his birth, ii. 297; treatment by Carlo Emmanuele, 298; his independent spirit, _ib._; aim at originality of thought, 299; his criticism of Dante and Petrarch, 300; the _Secchia Rapita_: its origin and motive, 301; its circulation in manuscript copies, 302; Tassoni the inventor of heroico-comic poetry, 303; humor and sarcasm in Italian municipal wars, 304; the episode of the Bolognese bucket, _ib._; irony of the Secchia Rapita, 306; method of Tassoni's art, _ib._; ridicule of contemporary poets, 307; satire and parody, 308; French imitators of Tasso, 310; episodes of pure poetry, 311; sustained antithesis between poetry and melodiously-worded slang, 312; Tassoni's rank as a literary artist, _ib._

TAXATION, the methods of, adopted by Spanish Viceroys in Italy, i. 49.

TENEBROSI, the (school of painters), ii. 365.

TESTI, Fulvio, Modenese poet, ii. 314.

TEUTONIC tribes, relations of with the Italians, ii. 393; unreconciled antagonisms, 394; divergence, 395; the Church, the battle-field of Renaissance and Reformation, 395.

THEATINES, foundation of the Order of, i. 79.

THEORY, Italian love of, in Tasso's time, ii. 25; critique of Tasso's theory of poetry, 26, 42.

THIENE, Gaetano di, founder of the Theatines, i. 76.

THIRTY Divine Attributes, Bruno's doctrine of, ii. 139.

TINTORETTO'S picture of S. Agnes, ii. 361.

TITIAN, portrait of Charles V. by, i. 42.

TOLEDO, Don Pietro di, Viceroy of Naples, i. 38; ii. 7.

---Francesco da, confessor of Gregory XIII., i. 150.

TORQUEMADA, the Spanish Inquisitor, i. 173, 179, 181.

TORRE, Delia, the family of, ancestors, of the Tassi, ii. 5.

'TORRISMONDO,' Tasso's tragedy of, ii. 73, 113 _sq._

TORTURE, cases of witnesses put to, i. 333 _sqq._

TOUCH, the sense of, Marino's praises of, ii. 270.

TOULOUSE, power of the Inquisition in, ii. 137.

TRAGIC narratives circulated in manuscript in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, i. 372.

'TREATISE on the Inquisition,' Sarpi's, ii. 220.

---'on the Interdict,' Sarpi's, ii. 201.

TREMAZZI, Ambrogio: his own report of how he wrought the murder of Troilo Orsini, i. 405 _sqq._; his notions about his due reward, 406.

TRENT, Council of: Indiction of, by Paul III., i. 97; numbers of its members, 97 _n._, 119 _n._; diverse objects of the Spanish, French, and German representatives, 98, 122; the articles which it confirmed, 98; method of procedure, 99, 120; the Council transferred to Bologna, 100; Paul IV.'s measures of ecclesiastical reform, 107; the Council's decrees actually settled in the four Courts, 112, 119; its organization by Pius IV., 118 _sqq._; inauspicious commencement, 119; the privileges of the Papal legates, 120; daily post of couriers to the Vatican, 121; arts of the Roman Curia, 122; Spanish, French, Imperial Opposition, 123; clerical celibacy and Communion under both forms, _ib._; packing the Council with Italian bishops, 125; the interests of the Gallican Church, 126; interference of the Emperor Ferdinand, _ib._; confusion in the Council, 126 _n._; envoys to France and the Emperor, 127; cajoleries and menaces, 129; action of the Court of Spain, 130; firmness of the Spanish bishops, 130 _n._; Papal Supremacy decreed, 131; reservation in the Papal Bull of ratification, 131 _and note_; Tridentine Profession of Faith (Creed of Pius V.), 148.

TUSCANY, creation of the Grand Duchy of, i. 47.

TWO SICILIES, the kingdom of the, i. 45.

'TYRANNY of the kiss,' the, exemplified in the Rinaldo, ii. 90; in the Pastor Fido, 255; in the Adone, 272.

U

UNIVERSAL Monarchy, end of the belief in, i. 34.

UNIVERSE, Bruno's conception of the, ii. 173 _sqq._

UNIVERSITIES, Italian, i. 51.

'UNTORI, La Peste degli,' i. 421; trial of the Untoti, 421.

URBAN VIII., fantastic attempt made against the life of, i. 425 _sq._

URBINO, the Court of, life at, ii. 17 _sq._

V

VALDES, Juan: his work _On the Benefits of Christ's Death_, i. 76.

VALORI, Baccio, i. 33.

VASTO, Marquis of, i. 25.

VENETIAN ambassadors' despatches cited: on the manners of the Roman Court in 1565, i. 142, 147; the expulsion of prostitutes from Rome, 146.

VENICE, the Republic of, its possessions in the fifteenth century, i. 9; relations with Spain in 1530, 45; rise of a contempt for commerce in, 49; the constitution of its Holy Office, 190; Concordat with Clement VIII., 193; Tasso at, ii. 19 _sq._; its condition in Sarpi's youth, 185; political indifference of its aristocracy, 186; put under interdict by Paul V., 198.

VENIERO, Maffeo, on Tasso's mental malady, ii. 52, 63.

VERONA, Peter of (Peter Martyr), Italian Dominican Saint of the Inquisition, i. 161.

VERVINS, the Treaty of, i. 48, 56.

VETTORI, Francesco, i. 33.

VIRGIL, Tasso's admiration of, ii. 25; translations and adaptations from, 98.

VISCONTI, the dynasty of, i. 8.

---Valentina, grandmother of Louis XII. of France, i. 8.

VITELLI, Alessandro, i. 46.

VITELLOZZI, Vitellozzo, influence of, in the reform of Church music, ii. 325.

VITI, Michele, one of the assassins of Sarpi, ii. 212.

'VOCERO,' the, i. 332.

VOLTERRA, Bebo da, associate of Bibboni in the murder of Lorenzino de'Medici, i. 390 _sqq._

VULGATE, the: results of its being declared inviolable, i. 210.

W

WALDENSIANS in Calabria, the, i. 188.

WITCHCRAFT, chiefly confined to the mountain regions of Italy, i. 425; mainly used as a weapon of malice, _ib._; details of the sorcery practised by Giacomo Centini, 425 _sqq._

WIFE-MURDERS in Italy in the sixteenth century, i. 380 _sq._, 385.

X

XAVIER, Francis, associate of Ignatius Loyola, i. 239; his work as a Jesuit in Portugal, 256; his mission to the Indies, 260.

XIMENES, Cardinal, as Inquisitor General, i. 182.

Z

ZANETTI, Guido, delivered over to the Roman Inquisition, i. 145.


End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Renaissance in Italy, Volumes 1 and 2 by John Addington Symonds

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RENAISSANCE IN ITALY ***

***** This file should be named 16504-8.txt or 16504-8.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/5/0/16504/

Produced by Ted Garvin, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed.

Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.


*** START: FULL LICENSE ***

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at http://gutenberg.net/license).

Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works

1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.

1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.

1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United States.

1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, copied or distributed:

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.

1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.

1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project Gutenberg-tm License.

1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.net), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided that

- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."

- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm works.

- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of receipt of the work.

- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.

1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.

1.F.

1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.

1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.

1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further opportunities to fix the problem.

1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.

1.F.6. INDEMNITY

- You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.

Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm

Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from people in all walks of life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.

Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit 501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.

The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official page at http://pglaf.org

For additional contact information: Dr. Gregory B. Newby Chief Executive and Director gbnewby@pglaf.org

Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state visit http://pglaf.org

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who approach us with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways including including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate

Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works.

Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.

Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.

Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:

http://www.gutenberg.net

This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.

*** END: FULL LICENSE ***


Renaissance in Italy, Volumes 1 and 2

from http://manybooks.net/