At Venice and Padua

There had been a time when the human spirit, braced by the discovery of ancient letters and of a new world, enjoyed no small measure of freedom under Popes who were themselves distinguished sons of the Renaissance; but such liberty was never formally authorised and established, and theshock which Protestant aggression gave to the Catholic conscience and the dwindling power and purse of the Roman theocracy had by this time caused a complete reversal of Papal policy. Bruno, in spite of the persecution he had endured at the hands of minor officials, believed in the sweet reasonableness of a Church which tacked and temporised so often in the past, and which was even now governed by so many wise statesmen, had the adherence of so many scholars and numbered so many sincere priests. Filled with his own sincerity and a belief in the triumph of truth, the lessons of his life in Naples, Geneva, Paris and Germany were lost on him. Candid and of generous and open mind, he judged the rulers of the Church by his own high liberal standard and that of a few like-minded friends. He had not the least doubt as to the genuine Catholicity of his own belief, and that he only needed access to high authority to be restored to the bosom of his Church. Mocenigo sent him more than one pressing invitation ¹ and probably promised him ample protection. ² At length, it may be after some misgiving and swaying to and fro, desire to revisit Italy and dwell once more among Italians prevailed, and one fatal day in the autumn of 1591, he set forth for Venice.