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Savonarola was getting himself beautifully misunderstood. Such words as fanatic, pretender, agitator, heretic, renegade and “dangerous” were freely hurled at him. They said he was pulling down the pillars of Society. He seriously considered retiring entirely from the pulpit; and as a personal vindication and that his thoughts might live, he wrote a book, “The Triumph of the Cross.” This volume contains all his philosophy and depicts truth as he saw it.

Let a reader, ignorant of the author, peruse this book today, and he will find in it only the oft-repeated appeal of a believer in “Primitive Christianity.” Purity of life, sincerity, simplicity, earnestness, loyalty to God and love to man–these are very old themes, yet they can never die. Zeal can always fan them into flame.

Savonarola was an unconscious part of the great “humanist” movement.

Savonarola, John Knox, the Wesleys, Calvin, Luther, the Puritans, Huguenots, Quakers, Shakers, Mennonites and Dunkards–all are one. The scientist sees species under all the manifold manifestations of climate, environment and local condition.

Florence was a republic, but it is only eternal vigilance that can keep a republic a republic. The strong man who assumes the reins is continually coming to the fore, and the people diplomatically handled are quite willing to make him king, provided he continues to call himself “Citizen.”

Lorenzo de Medici ruled Florence, yet occupied no office, and assumed no title. He dictated the policy of the government, filled all the offices, and ministered the finances. Incidentally he was a punctilious Churchman–obeying the formula–and the Church at Florence was within his grasp no less than the police. The secret of this power lay in the fact that he handled the “sinews of war”–no man ever yet succeeded largely in a public way who was not a financier, or else one who owned a man who was. Public power is a matter of money, wisely used.

To divert, amuse and please the people is a necessity to the ruler, for power at the last is derived from the people, and no government endures that is not founded on the consent of the governed. If you would rule either a woman or a nation, you had better gain consent. To secure this consent you must say “please.”

The gladiatorial shows of Greece, the games, contests, displays, all the barbaric splendor of processions, music, fetes, festivals, chants, robes and fantastic folderol of Rome–ancient and modern–the boom of guns in sham battles, coronations, thrones and crowns are all manifestations of this great game of power.

The people are children, and must be pleased.

But eventually the people reach adolescence: knowledge comes to them (to a few at least) and they perceive that they themselves foot all bills, and pay in sweat and tears and blood for all this pomp of power.

They rise in their might, like a giant aroused from sleep, and the threads that bound them are burst asunder. They themselves assume the reins of government, and we have a republic.

And this republic endures until some republican, coming in the name of the people, waxes powerful and evolves into a plutocrat who assumes the reins, and the cycle goes its round and winds itself up on the reel of time.

Savonarola thundered against the extravagance, moral riot and pomp of the rich–and this meant the Medici, and all those who fed at the public trough, and prided themselves on their patriotism.

Lorenzo grew uneasy, and sent requests that the preacher moderate his tone in the interests of public weal. Savonarola sent back words that were unbecoming in one addressing a ruler.

Then it was that Lorenzo the Magnificent, also the wise and wily, resolved on a great diplomatic move.

He had the fanatical and troublesome monk, Fra Girolamo Savonarola, made Prior of the Monastery of Saint Mark’s–success was the weapon that would undo him.

Of course, Lorenzo did not act directly in the matter–personally he did not appear at all.

Now the Prior of Saint Mark’s had the handling of large sums of money, the place could really be the home of a prince if the Prior wished to be one, and all he had to do was to follow the wishes of the Magnificent Lorenzo.