I

CHAPTER XIV.

Pontifical Palaces: the Lateran-the Quirinal-the Vatican.

We now proceed to the three pontifical palaces. The Lateran stands close to the patriarchal church of that name, and was ap→ pointed for the residence of the Bishops of Rome, at the same time as the adjoining Basilica was converted into a church by Constantine. It had fallen into ruin, and was rebuilt by Sixtus Quintus. A part only is now reserved for the accommodation of the Pontiff, when he comes to perform service at St. John's. The main body of the building was turned into an hospital for the reception of two hundred and fifty orphans, by Innocent XI. It presents three fronts, of great extent and simplicity, and strikes the eye by its -magnitude and elevation.

The Quirinal palace (Monte Cavallo) is become, from the loftiness and salubrity of its situation, the ordinary, or at least, the summer residence of the Roman pontiff. Its exterior presents two long fronts, plain and unadorned; the court within is about three hundred and fifty feet long, and near two hundred wide. A broad and lofty portico runs along it on every side, and terminates in a grand staircase, conducting to the papal apartments, to the gallery, and the chapel, all on a grand scale, and adorned with fine paintings. In the furniture and other decorations, the style is simple and uniform, and such as seems to become the grave unostentatious character of a christian prelate. The adjoining gardens are spacious, refreshed by several fountains, and shaded by groves of laurel, pine, ilex, and poplar. In the recesses, arbors, and alleys, are statues, urns, and other antique ornaments, placed with much judgment, and producing a very picturesque effect. In other respects, the gardens are in the same style as the edifice, and exhibit magnificence only in their extent.

The square before this palace is remarkable for an Egyptian obelisk erected in it by the late Pope. Two statues, representing each a horse held by a young man, stand, one on each side of the obelisk, and give the hill the appellation of Monte Cavallo. They are of colossal size and exquisite beauty; are supposed to represent Castor and Pollux, although the inscription says, Alexander

• Juvenal mentions egregias Lateranorum ædes (the magnificent temples of the Lateran), as surrounded by the bloody cohorts of Nero, who put the proprietor to death, confiscated his estates, and seized his palace. It continued at the disposal of the Emperors till the reign of Constantine.

and Bucephalus, and are acknowledged to be the works of some great Grecian master. They were transported by Constantine from Alexandria, and erected in his baths which stood in the neighborhood; and from thence they were conveyed, by order of Sixtus Quintus, to their present situation. The erection of the obelisk between these groups has been censured by some, as taking from their effect, and oppressing them by its mass: but, as it is admitted that they were made not to stand insulated, but probably to adorn the side or angle of some edifice, perhaps a mausoleum, and even, as appears from the roughness of their back parts, to touch the wall, and seem as if springing from it, their connexion with the obelisk must be considered as an improvement and an approximation to their original attitudes and accompaniments.

The Vatican hill retains its ancient appellation, and gives it to the palace and church which adorn its summit and declivity. Whether this appellation took its origin from the influence of some local divinity, which was supposed to manifest itself in omens and predictions, more frequently on this spot than elsewhere, as Aulus Gellius imagines; or whether, as Varro asserts, the god himself takes his title from the first efforts of the infant voice at articulation, over which it seems he presided, is a matter of little importance; from which we pass to the recollection of the pleasing imagery of Horace, so well known to our early years:

But I know not whether these sportive ideas have not, in the minds of most of my readers, given way to impressions less pleasing; and whether the accents of the echo have not been drowned in the thunders of the Vatican, that have rolled through so many ages, and resounded so long and so tremendously in every English ear. But be that as it may, the Vatican has long ceased to be the forge of spiritual lightnings, the grand arsenal of ecclesiastical weapons,

"Armamentaria cœli," a

and ages have now elapsed since the roar of its thunders has disturbed the repose of the universe, or with fear of change perplexed monarchs.

The Vatican is now the peaceful theatre of some of the most majestic ceremonies of the pontifical court; it is the repository of the

When in applausive shouts thy name

Spread from the theatre around,

Floating on thy own Tyber's stream,

And Echo, playful nymph, return'd the sound.-Francis.

All the magazine of wrath above. -Dryden,

records of ancient science, and the temple of the arts of Greece, and Rome. Under these three heads it commands the attention of every traveller of curiosity, taste, and information. The exterior, as I have already hinted when speaking of palaces in general, does not present any grand display of architectural magnificence, nor even of uniformity and symmetrical arrangement; a circumstance easily accounted for, when we consider that the Vatican was erected by different architects at different æras, and for very different purposes; and that it is rather an assemblage of palaces than one regular palace. It was begun about the end of the fifth, or the beginning of the sixth century, and rebuilt, increased, repaired, and altered by various pontiffs, from that period down to the latter years of the reign of the late Pope, when the French invasion put an end, for some time at least, to all improvements.

All the great architects whom Rome has produced were in their days employed, in some part or other of this edifice, and Bramante, Raffaello, Fontana, Maderno, and Bernini, successively displayed their talents in its augmentation or improvement. Its extent is immense, and covers a space of twelve hundred feet in length and thousand in breadth. Its elevation is proportionate, and the number of apartments it contains almost incredible. Galleries and porticos sweep around and through it in all directions, and open an easy access to every quarter. Its halls and saloons are all on a great scale, and by their multitude and loftiness alone give an idea of magnificence truly Roman. The walls are neither wainscotted nor hung with tapestry; they are adorned or rather animated by the genius of Raffaello and Michael Angelo. The furniture is plain and ought to be so finery would be misplaced in the Vatican, and would sink into insignificance in the midst of the great, the vast, the sublime, which are the predominating features or rather the very genii of the place. The grand entrance is from the portico of St. Peter's by the Scala Regia (the royal staircase), the most superb staircase perhaps in the world, consisting of four flights of marble steps adorned with a double row of marble Ionic pillars. This staircase springs from the equestrian statue of Constantine which terminates the portico on one side; and whether seen thence, or viewed from the gallery leading on the same side to the colonnade, forms a perspective of singular beauty and grandeur.

The Scala Regia conducts to the Sala Regia or regal Hall, a room of great length and elevation which communicates by six large folding doors with as many other apartments. The space over and the intervals between the doors are occupied by pictures in fresco representing various events, considered as honorable or advantageous to the Roman See. Though all these pieces are the works of great masters, yet one only is peculiarly beautiful; and that is the triumphal entrance of Gregory XI. into Rome, after the long absence of the pontiffs from the capital during their residence at Avignon.

This composition is by Vasari, and is perhaps his masterpiece. The battle of Lepanto, in which the united fleet of the Italian powers under the command of Don John of Austria and under the auspices of Pius V. defeated the Turks, and utterly broke their nayal power till then so terrible to Europe, is justly ranked amongst the most glorious achievements of the Roman pontiffs, and forms a most appropriate ornament to the Sala Regia. Unfortunately the skill of the artist was not equal to the subject, and the grandeur and life of the action is lost in undistinguishable confusion below, and above in wild allegorical representations. The massacre of St. Bartholomew, if the memory of such an atrocious and horrible event must be preserved, would be better placed at Paris, where it was perpetrated, than at Rome; and in the palace of the Louvre where it was planned, than in the Vatican.

Occidat illa dies ævo, nec postera credant

Sæcula: nos certe taceamus, et obruta multâ

Nocte tegi nostræ patiamur crimina gentis.—Statius. 1

This was the patriotic and benevolent wish of a worthy French magistrate (the chancellor L'Hopital) and in this wish every humane heart will readily join. The humiliation of the Emperors Henry IV. and Frederic Barbarosa, ought not to be ranked among the trophies of the Holy See. It reflects more disgrace on the insolent and domineering pontiffs, who exacted such marks of submission, than on the degraded sovereigns who found themselves obliged to give them. At all events, it does not become the common father of christians to rejoice in the humiliation of his sons, or to blazon the walls of his palace with the monuments of their weakness or condescension.

At one end of the Sala Regia is the Cappella Paolina (the Pauline Chapel), so called because rebuilt by Paul III. The altar is supported by porphyry pillars and bears a tabernacle of rock crystal : the walls are adorned with various paintings filling the spaces between the Corinthian pilasters. The whole however, though rich and magnificent, looks dark and cumbersome.

Towards the other end of the hall, on the left, a door opens into the Cappella Sistina built by Sixtus IV. and celebrated for its paintings in fresco by Michael Angelo and his scholars. These paintings, which cover the walls and vaulted ceilings, are its only ornaments. The famous "Last Judgment" of Michael Angelo occupies one end entirely. Its beauties and defects are well known and may be comprised in one short observation; that its merit consists

more in the separate figures than in the arrangement or effect of the whole. The upper part glows with brightness, angels, and glory on the right ascend the elect; on the left, the wicked blasted with lightning tumble in confused groups into the flaming abyss. The Judge stands in the upper part, supported on the clouds and arrayed in the splendor of heaven: he is in the act of uttering the dreadful sentence, Go, ye cursed, into everlasting fire; his arms are uplifted, his countenance burns with indignation, and his eyes flash lightning. Such is the Messiah in Milton, when he puts forth his terrors and hurls his bolts against the rebel angels; and so is he described by an eloquent French orator, when he exercises his judgments on sinners at the last tremendous day.

Similar representations either in prose or verse, in language or in painting, are sublime and affecting; but I know not whether they be suitable to the calm, the tranquil, the majestic character of the awful person who is to judge the world in truth and in justice. Nothing indeed is so difficult as to portray the features, the attitudes, and the gestures of the Word incarnate. He was not without feeling, but he was above passion. Joy and sorrow, pain and pleasure, could reach his soul, for he was a man; but they could not cloud its serenity, for he was God. Benevolence brought him from heaven; it was therefore his prevailing sentiment, and may be supposed to influence his countenance, and to shed over his features a perpetual expression of benignity. To obey or to suspend the laws of nature was to him equally easy; a miracle cost him no effort and excited in him no surprise. To submit or to command, to suffer or to triumph, to live or to die, were alike welcome in their turns as the result of reason and obedience. To do the will of his Father was the object of his mission, and every step that led to its accomplishment, whether easy or arduous, was to him the same. What poet shall dare to describe such a character? What painter presume to trace its divine semblance? No wonder then that the greatest masters should have failed in the bold attempt; and that even Michael Angelo by transferring, like Homer, the passions of the man to the divinity, should have degraded the awful object, and presented to the spectator the form, not of a God, but of an irritated and vindictive monarch! If Michael Angelo has failed we can scarcely hope that other painters can succeed; and we find few, very few representations of the Saviour, on which the eye or the imagination can rest with satisfaction. The divine infants of Carlo Dolce are, it must be acknowledged, beings of a superior nature that seem to breathe the airs and to enjoy at once the innocence and the bloom of paradise; and his Saviour of the World in the act of consecrating the bread and wine is a most divine figure, every feature of whose seraphic face speaks compassion and mercy : Love without end, and without measure, grace. Milton. iii, 142,