ents anticipate the wars which threatened the
state, with equanimity.

Savonarola himself felt that the supreme hour was come. One more
resource was left; to that he would now betake himself: he could
afterwards but die. This last step was the convening of a general
council.[1] Accordingly he addressed letters to all the European
potentates. One of these, inscribed to Charles VIII., was dispatched,
intercepted, and conveyed to Alexander. He wrote also to the Pope and
warned him of his purpose. The termination of that epistle is
noteworthy: 'I can thus have no longer any hope in your Holiness, but
must turn to Christ alone, who chooses the weak of this world to
confound the strong lions among the perverse generations. He will assist
me to prove and sustain, in the face of the world, the holiness of the
work for the sake of which I so greatly suffer: and He will inflict a
just punishment on those who persecute me and would impede its progress.
As for myself, I seek no earthly glory, but long eagerly for death. May
your Holiness no longer delay but look to your salvation.'

[1] This scheme was by no means utterly unpractical. The Borgia
had only just escaped deposition in 1495 by the gift of a
Cardinal's hat to the Bishop of S. Malo. He was hated no less
than feared through the length and breadth of Italy. But
Savonarola had allowed the favorable moment to pass by.

But while girding on his armor for this singlehanded combat with the
Primate of Christendom and the Princes of Italy, the martyrdom to which
Savonarola now looked forward fell upon him. Growing yearly more
confident in his visions and more willing to admit his supernatural
powers, he had imperceptibly prepared the pit which finally ingulfed
him. Often had he professed his readiness to prove his vocation by fire.
Now came the moment when this defiance to an ordeal was answered.[1] A
Franciscan of Apulia offered to meet him in the flames and see whether
he were of God or not. Fra Domenico, Savonarola's devoted friend, took
up the gauntlet and proposed himself as champion. The furnace was
prepared: both monks stood ready to enter it: all Florence was assembled
in the Piazza to witness what should happen. Various obstacles, however,
arose; and after waiting a whole day for the friar's triumph, the people
had to retire to their homes under a pelting shower of rain,
unsatisfied, and with a dreary sense that after all their prophet was
but a mer