. Pomponius Laetus, who
lived at the close of the fifteenth century, not only celebrated by an
annual festival the foundation of Rome, and raised altars to Romulus,
but openly expressed his contempt for the Christian religion, which this
visionary declared was only fit for barbarians; but this extravagance
and irreligion, observes Niceron, were common with many of the learned
of those times, and this very Pomponius was at length formally accused
of the crime of changing the baptismal names of the young persons whom
he taught for pagan ones! "This was the taste of the times," says the
author we have just quoted; but it was imagined that there was a mystery
concealed in these changes of names.

At this period these literary societies first appear: one at Rome had
the title of "Academy," and for its chief this very Pomponius; for he is
distinguished as "Romanae Princeps Academiae," by his friend Politian, in
the "Miscellanea" of that elegant scholar. This was under the
pontificate of Paul the Second. The regular meetings of "the Academy"
soon excited the jealousy and suspicions of Paul, and gave rise to one
of the most horrid persecutions and scenes of torture, even to death, in
which these academicians were involved. This closed with a decree of
Paul's, that for the future no one should pronounce, either seriously or
in jest, the very name of _academy_, under the penalty of heresy! The
story is told by Platina, one of the sufferers, in his Life of Paul the
Second; and although this history may be said to bear the bruises of the
wounded and dislocated body of the unhappy historian, the facts are
unquestionable, and connected with our subject. Platina, Pomponius, and
many of their friends, were suddenly dragged to prison; on the first and
second day torture was applied, and many expired under the hands of
their executioners. "You would have imagined," says Platina, "that the
castle of St. Angelo was turned into the bull of Phalaris, so loud the
hollow vault resounded with the cries of those miserable young men, who
were an honour to their age for genius and learning. The torturers, not
satisfied, though weary, having racked twenty men in these two days, of
whom some died, at length sent for me to take my turn. The instruments
of torture were ready; I was stripped, and the executioners put
themselves to their work. Vianesius sat like another Minos on a seat of
tapestry-work, gay as at a wedding; and while I hung on the rack i