life’s true aim.  He communicated to her his own enthusiasm for humanity, and she retained this faith even after her loss of confidence in him had loosened her hold on his religious teachings.  She went beyond her teacher and inspirer, learned his lessons better than he did himself, and came to see that a true religion is not of a sect or party, but humanitarian.  When she warned him against his fanatical devotion to his party, he attempted to justify his narrow policy by identifying true Christianity with his own work, Romola replied,—­

“Do you then know so well what will further the coming of God’s kingdom, father, that you will dare to despise the plea of mercy—­of justice—­of faithfulness to your own teaching?  Take care, father, lest your enemies have some reason when they say that, in your visions of what will further God’s kingdom, you see only what will strengthen your own party.”

    “And that is true!” said Savonarola, with flashing eyes.  Romola’s voice
    had seemed to him in that moment the voice of his enemies.  “The cause
    of my party is the cause of God’s kingdom.”

    “I do not believe it!” said Romola, her whole frame shaken with
    passionate repugnance.  “God’s kingdom is something wider—­else let
    me stand outside it with the beings that I love.”

    The two faces were lit up, each with an opposite emotion, each with an
    opposite certitude.  Further words were impossible.  Romola hastily
    covered her head and went out in silence. [Footnote:  Chapter LIX.]

Savonarola forgot the better spirit of his own teachings, he sought to become a political leader.  It was his ruin, for his purpose was vitiated, and his influence waned.  George Eliot well says that “no man ever struggled to retain power over a mixed multitude without suffering vitiation; his standard must be their lower needs, and not his own best insight.”  This was the sad fate of the great Florentine preacher and reformer.  He lost his faith, and he spoke without the moment’s conviction.  When this result came about, all hope for Savonarola as a reformer was gone.  He was then only the leader of a party.  George Eliot has well painted the effect upon Romola of this fall, and given deep insight into the results of losing our trust in those great souls who have been our guides.  All the ties of life had snapped for Romola; her marriage had proved a failure, her friend had become unworthy of her confidence; and she fled.

Romola went away, found herself in the midst of a plague-stricken people, gave her life to an assuagement of suffering and sorrow.  Then she could come back to her home purified, calm and noble.  In the “Epilogue,” we find her speaking the word which gives meaning to the whole book.  Tessa’s child, whom she had rescued, says to her that he would like to lead a life which would give him a good deal of pleasure.  Romola says to him,—­