of the poet
and preacher who loved her so passionately though she proved a cruel
and ungrateful mother. The Italian state has ceased to assert its
independence, and the brawling of party-strife no longer draws the
mediator to make peace and, if possible, secure to himself some of the
rich treasures of the Florentines whose work was {229} coveted afar.
Pictures of wondrous beauty have been defaced and stolen, statuary has
crumbled into the dust that lies thick upon the tombs of great men who
have fallen. But the words of the _Divine Comedy_ will never be
forgotten, and the glory of an epic rests always with Italian
literature. All the cold and passionless intellect of the Renaissance
can be personified in Lorenzo the Magnificent, who encouraged the pagan
creeds that the Prior of San Marco yearned to overthrow. Enemies in
life, they serve as opposing types of the fifteenth century Italian,
one earnest, ardent, filled with zeal for self-sacrifice, the other an
epicure, gratifying each whim, yet deserving praise because in every
form he encouraged beauty. There is something fine in the magnanimity
of the Medicean tyrant when he tried to conciliate the honest monk;
there is something infinitely noble in the very weakness of the martyr,
whose death disappointed so many of his followers because it proved
that he had not miraculous powers.

The charm of Southern cities makes the background for the drama between
man and the devil seem dingy in comparison, but even Central Europe has
romantic figures in the Reformation times. No sensuous Italian mind
could have defied Pope and Emperor so stoutly and changed the religion
of many European nations without the world being drenched in blood.
Luther is a less gallant champion than William of Orange who fought for
toleration and lost life and wealth in the cause, but his words were
powerful as weapons to reform the ancient abuses of the Church. He is
singularly steadfast among the ranks of men struggling for freedom of
the soul, but hardly daring to war against the cramping dogmas of the
past.

{230}

The soldiers of the Catholic Church have all the glamour of tradition
to render them immortal--they are the saints now whose lot was humblest
upon earth. The Crusader has clashed through the ages with the noise
of sword and armour, attracting the lover of romance, though he
performed less doughty deeds than the monk of stern asceticism, whose
rule forbade him to break peace. H