The arches from pillar to pillar introduced by the bad taste of the age of Diocletian, might be covered as in Santa Maria Maggiore by a regular entablature, and as in all the other Basilicæ, the floor flagged and the walls lined with marble. The paintings might then be restored with perfect security, and the work of reparation finished by removing the present Gothic obelisk that encumbers the tomb of the Apostle, and employing the beautiful columns that now seem to groan under its weight, in supporting a light and well-proportioned canopy. I have already said that S. Paolo might be made one of the most beautiful churches in the universe, and the changes here pointed out would, I think, accomplish that object, and give it all the splendor of which it is susceptible. In fact, it already exhibits the noblest collection of pillars now known, and if these were set off to advantage by an appropriate cornice and corresponding decorations around, its colonnades would form a scene inferior in extent indeed, but I conceive equal if not superior in regular architectural beauty even to the magnificent arcades of the Vatican.

CHAP. XV.

THE BASILICA VATICANA, OR ST. PETER'S

To the Vatican we shall now turn and close, our account of Roman churches, by a faint and imperfect description of some of the glories of this unrivalled fabric, the boast, of modern skill and trophy of the united arts of painting, sculpture and architecture. The Basilica of St. Peter was the first and noblest religious edifice erected by Constantine. It stood on part of the circus of Nero, and was supposed to occupy a spot consecrated by the blood of numberless martyrs exposed or slaughtered in that place of public amusement by order of the tyrant. But its principal and exclusive advantage was the possession of the body of St. Peter, a circumstance which raised it in credit and consideration above the Basilica Lateranensis, dignified its threshold with the honorable appellation of the Limina Apostolorum, and secured to it the first place in the affection and reverence of the Christian world. Not only monks and bishops but princes and emperors visited its sanctuary with devotion, and even kissed as they approached, the marble steps that led to its portal. Nor was this reverence confined to the orthodox

monarchs who sat on the throne of the founder; it extended to barbarians and more than once converted a cruel invader into a suppliant votary. The Vandal Genseric whose heart seldom felt emotions of mercy, while he plundered every house and temple with unrelenting fury, spared the treasures deposited under the roof of the Vatican Basilica, and even allowed the plate of the churches to be carried in solemn pomp to its inviolable altars. Totila, who in a moment of vengeance had sworn that he would bury the glory and memory of Rome in its ashes, listened to the admonitions of the pontiff, and resigned his fury at the tomb of the Apostles.

Every age as it passed over the Vatican seemed to add to its holiness and its dignity; and the coronation of an Emperor or the installation of a Pope, the deposition of the remains of a prince or the enshrinement of the reliques of a saint, appeared as so many tributes paid to its supereminence, and gave it so many new claims to the veneration of the Christian world. At length however, after eleven centuries of glory, the walls of the ancient Basilica began to give way, and symptoms of approaching ruin were become so visible about the year 1450, that Nicolas V. conceived the project of taking down the old church and erecting in its stead a new and more extensive structure. However, though the work was begun, yet it was carried on with feebleness and uncertainty during more than half a century, till Julius II. ascended the papal throne and resumed the great undertaking with that spirit and decision which distinguished all the measures of his active pontificate. Great princes generally find or create the talents requisite for their purposes, and Julius discovered in Bramante an architect

capable of comprehending and executing his grandest conceptions. A plan was presented and approved. The walls of the ancient Basilica were taken down, and on the eighteenth of April 1508, the foundation stone of one of the vast pillars that support the dome was laid by Julius with all the pomp and ceremony that became such an interesting occurrence. From that period the work, though carried on with ardor and perseverance yet continued during the space of one hundred years to occupy the attention and absorb the income of eighteen pontiffs. I might have augmented this number by the addition of the names of Urban VIII. Alexander VII. and their successors down to Benedict XIII. who all contributed to the erection, embellishment and completion of the superb colonnade that opens before the church, and adds so much to its majesty. The popes who have since followed have not been entirely inactive, but have endeavoured each according to his ability to acquire a share in the glory and duration of this edifice by some decoration or improvement. In fine, the late Pius VI. built the sacristy, and by this necessary appendage, which had till then been wanting, may be considered as having accomplished the grand undertaking, and given the Basilica Vaticana its full perfection.

On the whole it would not be exaggeration to assert, that nearly three hundred years elapsed and five and thirty pontiffs reigned from the period of the commencement, to that of the termination of this stupendous fabric. The most celebrated architects of modern times had an opportunity of displaying their talents and immortalizing their names in the prosecution of the work, and Bramante, Raffaello, San Gallo, Michael Angelo, Vignola,

Carlo Maderno and Bernini, not to speak of others of less reputation, labored successively in its promotion or consummation. To calculate the expense with any great precision would be difficult, but from the best information that has been collected on the subject we may venture to state, that however enormous the sum may appear, the expenditure must have amounted to at least twelve millions sterling; and when we consider that the marbles, bronze, and other valuable materials employed in its decoration are not only not plentiful, but scarcely known out of Rome, we may add that it would require three times as much to raise a similar edifice in any other capital. From the latter observation we may infer that if a convulsion of nature, or what is still more to be dreaded, an explosion of human malignity should shatter or destroy this admirable fabric, many ages must elapse and numberless generations pass away before means could be collected or talents found to restore it, or to erect another of equal magnificence. What then will be the astonishment or rather the horror of my reader, when I inform him that this unrivalled temple, the triumph and master-piece of modern skill, the noblest specimen of the genius and the powers of man, was during the late French invasion made an object of rapacious speculation, and doomed to eventual but certain ruin. Yet such is the fact. When the exhausted income of the state and the plunder of all the public establishments were found unequal to the avarice of the generals, and the increasing wants of the soldiers, the French committee turned its attention to St. Peter's, and employed a company of Jews to estimate and purchase the gold, silver and bronze that adorn the inside of the edifice, as well as the copper that covers the vaults and dome on the outside. The interior orna