attest his skill. We are not to examine them with the eye of an architect flourishing even half a century later, though under that category they do him honour, but with the eye of an artist of his own day, and we shall then find our veneration for his memory cannot be too strongly expressed. In Florence he finished the Ruccellai palace, and built the choir of the Annunziata. At Mantua he built a church of singular beauty, consisting of a simple nave, crowned with a vault decorated with caissons, which rivals the works of the ancients. The additions he made to the church of St. Francesco at Rimini, a pointed church, though not in the same style, because it then came into disrepute, show an extraordinary aptitude for overcoming the most difficult and repulsive subjects with which an architect has to deal, and that work alone would stamp him as a man of genius. On his other acquirements it is not within our province to dwell; we shall merely sum them up by saying that he was poet, painter, sculptor, philosopher, mathematician, and antiquary. Such was Alberti, in whom was concentrated more refinement and learning than have hardly since appeared in a single individual of our species. The time of his death is not accurately known; some place it at the end of the fifteenth, and others at the beginning of the sixteenth century.

326. About the time that Alberti was engaged on the practice and literature of the art, a very extraordinary volume, written by a member of the Colonna family, was published by Aldus, at Venice, in 1499, folio. Its title is as follows:- Polyphili Hypnerotomachia, opus italicâ linguâ conscriptum; ubi humana omnia non nisi somnium esse docet. This work deserves to be better known than we fear its rarity will ever permit. With the singularity of the plan, it unites the advantage of placing before the reader many elevated and elegant ideas, and, under the veil of a fable, of inculcating precepts of the greatest utility to artists and those that love the art. The testimony of Felibien in favour of this work runs so favourably, that we must transcribe it :-" Sans préjudice,” says that author, “ du grand profit qu'on peut tirer de la lecture de Vitruve, et de l'étude qu'on doit faire de ses principes et de ses règles, il ne faut pas moins examiner les tableaux curieux de plusieurs superbes édifices, monumens ou jardins, que l'imagination riante et féconde de l'auteur du Songe a mis sous les yeux de ses lecteurs." When it is recollected that the manuscripts of Vitruvius were extremely rare, and that when Colonna wrote (1467) that author had not been translated, when we reflect that in his descriptions he rears edifices as magnificent and regular as those which Vitruvius presents to us, we cannot withhold our surprise at the genius and penetration of the author. With him architecture appears in all her majesty. Pyramids, obelisks, mausolea, colossal statues, circi, hippodromi, amphitheatres, temples, aqueducts, baths, fountains, noble palaces, delicious gardens, all in the purest taste and of the most perfect proportion, attend in her train, and administer to the pomp with which the author attires her. With him all these ideal productions of the art were not merely the result of an ardent imagination, but were the fruit of an intimate acquaintance with its rules, which he explains to his reader, and inspires him at the same time with a taste for the subject of his pages. Ile often breaks out against the gross ignorance of the architects of his day, and endeavours to inculcate in them the sound principles of the art. He demonstrates that it is not enough that an edifice possesses stability and solidity, but that it must be impressed with a character suitable to the purpose for which it is destined; that it is not enough that it be well decorated, but that the ornaments used arise from necessity, or at the least from utility. Architecture thus treated in fiction was much more pleasantly studied than it would have been by mere application to the dry rules of Vitruvius. The impression made by the work was increased by the poetic glow with which the precepts were delivered; the allegories it contained warmed the imaginations of a people easily excited, and Italy soon saw realised what Polyphilus had seen in a dream. This work is decorated with wood engravings of singular beauty, in which the details and accessories are strictly classical; it is written with great spirit and elegance, and we are not amazed at the magical effect which, with the accompaniment of Alberti's book above mentioned, it every where produced.

327. The Italian school, which ultimately appropriated and adapted the ancient Roman orders and their details to comparatively modern habits, was for a long while engrafted on or amalgamated with what is called Gothic. We here (fig. 165.) place before the reader an instance of this, in the celebrated Loggia at Florence, designed by Orgagna. The same feeling appears, indeed, in what Brunelleschi did in his Duomo, and in many other buildings in Florence, in Pisa, Sienna, and other cities. Brunelleschi doubtless made a strong effort to emancipate himself altogether from the mixture of two discordant styles, and in some measure succeeded. Still there continued, as is evident in the Ricardi, Strozzi, and other palaces in Florence, a lingering love for the mixture, which the architects had great apparent difficulty in shaking off. It is, however, extraordinary that with all this lingering love for the ancient style, in which there was much littleness, when the architects of this period came to the crowning members of their edifices, they placed on them such massive and finely composed cornices that the other parts are quite lost; and in this member it is evident they were influenced by those feelings of unity and breadth that gave so much value to the best works of the ancients.

328. The revival of the arts in Italy was vastly assisted by the commerce and riches of the country; and with the decay of that commerce, nearly 300 years afterwards, their palmy days were no more: from that time they have never thriven in the country that gave them birth. It is our intention, in this view of Italian architecture, to consider it under the three schools which reigned in Italy 1. The Florentine; 2. The Roman; 3. The Venetian.

329. 1. Florentine School. Climate and the habits of a people are the principal agents in creating real style in architecture; but these are in a great measure controlled, or it is perhaps more correct to say modified, by the materials which a country supplies. Often, indeed, these latter restrict the architect, and influence the lightness or massiveness of the style he adopts. The quarries of Tuscany furnish very large blocks of stone, lying so close to the surface that they are without other difficulty than that of carriage obtained, and removed to the spots where they are wanted. This is probably a circumstance which will account for the solidity, monotony, and solemnity which are such commanding features in the Florentine school; and which, if we may judge from the colossal ruins still existing, similarly prevailed in the buildings of ancient Etruria. In later times another cause contributed to the continuation of the practice, and that was the necessity of affording places of defence for the upper ranks of society in a state where insurrection continually occurred. Thus the palaces of the Medici, of the l'itti, of the Strozzi, and of other families, served almost equally for fortresses as for palaces. The style seems to have interdicted the use of columns in the façades, and on this account the stupendous cornices that were used seem actually necessary for the purpose of imparting grandeur to the composition. In the best and most celebrated examples of their palaces, such as the Strozzi, Pandolfini, and others in Florence, and the Picolomini palace at Sienna, the cornices are proportioned to the whole height of the building considered as an order, notwithstanding the horizontal subdivisions and small interposed cornices that are practised between the base and the crowning member. The

courts of these palaces are usually surrounded by columns or arcades, and their interior is scarcely ever indicated by the external distribution. From among the extraordinary palaces with which Florence abounds, we place before the reader the exquisite façade of the Pandolfin: palace, the design whereof (fig. 166.) is attributed to the divine Raffaelle d'Urbino.

In it almost all the requisites of street architecture are displayed. It is an example wherein the principles of that style are so admirably developed, as to induce us to recommend it, in conjunction with the façade of the Farnese palace hereafter given, to the elaborate study of the young architect.

330. Without further allusion to the double cupola of the Duomo, already noticed, the first of its species, and the prototype of that of St. Peter's at Rome afterwards reared by Michael Angelo, the principles and character of the Florentine school are not so manifest in its churches as in its palaces. These nevertheless possess great interest; for they were the bases on which those of the Roman school were formed, as well as of those examples which, with different degrees of purity, were afterwards erected in many of the capitals of Europe. Besides the plan of the Duomo, those of St. Michele, Sta. Maddelina, St. Pancrazio, St. Lorenzo, and St. Spirito, are the key to all excellence in modern art, as respects real church architecture. It is unfortunate that of this school few of the churches have been finished, so that their façades are generally imperfect. The interior was properly, with them, a matter to be first considered and brought to perfection.

331. Amongst the many extraordinary architects of the Florentine school, whereof a list will hereafter be given, was Bartolomeo Ammanati, whose bridge, "della Santissima Trinità," sufficiently proves that the greatness of the Florentine school does not alone depend on its palaces and churches. This, one of the most beautiful examples, as well for design as constructive science, in which was obtained for the waters of the Arno a maximum of waterway, combined with a beauty of form inappreciable through graphic means, still strides the river of Florence, to attest the consummate skill of Ammanati. The bridge in question consists of three arches: the middle one is 96 ft. span, and each of the others 86 ft.; the width of the piers is 26 ft. 9 in., and the breadth of the bridge between the parapets is 33 ft. The arches are very slightly pointed, the cusp being hidden by the rams' heads sculptured on the keystones; their rise above the springing is very little, hence they have been mistaken by some writers for cycloidal arches. Alfonso and Giulio Parigi, who assisted in constructing the work, left an account of the mode in which it was carried on, and the manuscript is still preserved in the Florentine Library. More recently, a description of this bridge has been published by Ferroni, under the title of "Della vera Curva degli Archi del Ponte della Santissima Trinità di Firenze." The Pitti palace had been begun in the time of Brunelleschi, in 1435, for Luca Pitti, a wealthy citizen of Florence. Remaining long unfinished, it was at last sold to Eleonora, wife of Cosmo I., who purchased the adjoining ground, and planted the Boboli Gardens. About the middle of the 16th century, Nicolo Bracciani, surnamed Tribolo, made designs for finishing the building; and was succeeded by Bernardo Buontalenti. After him came our Ammanati, who left other designs for finishing, which was accomplished by Alfonso and Giulio Parigi. It is now the residence of the grand duke, and has served as a model for imitation to many modern architects, though there is in it much to condemn. The details, however, and proportions of the orders used in it by Ammanati, are very beautiful. This architect died in 1586, at the age of seventy-five. He was a pupil of Baccio Bandinelli, and during his life composed a large work, entitled La Città, which contained designs for all the fabrics belonging to a regular and well-arranged city, beginning with the gates, then proceeding to the palaces of the prince and magistrates, the churches, the fountains, the squares, the loggia for the

merchants, the bridges, theatres, &c. This work appears to have been lost, the last possesor of it known having been the prince Ferdinand of Tuscany. Though in the higher refinement of finished details the Florentine school did not reach the extreme elegance of the Roman and Venetian schools, yet for bold imposing masses of architecture we think no city presents such a collection of highly picturesque architectural examples as Florence. The Pitti palace indeed, just mentioned, is more imposing by its broad parts than almost any other building with which we are acquainted, though it becomes poor when translated into French, as at the Luxembourg.

332. So late as 1454, we find in the Strozzi and other palaces semicircular-headed windows, wherein are half columns at the sides, and a column in the middle, resembling those in the Byzantine or Romanesque edifices. The two apertures thus formed are crowned by semicircular heads, which are circumscribed by the outer semicircle, and the spandrel formed by the three curves is occupied by a patera.

333. The period of the Florentine school, which must be taken as commencing with Brunelleschi, includes the names of Michelozzo, Leo Battista Alberti, Pollaiuolo (who obtained the soubriquet of Chronaca, from his constant recital of his travels), the architect of the Strozzi palace, Raffaelle Sanzio, Benedetto da Majano, Baccio d'Agnolo, Baccio Bandinelli, Buontalenti, Ammanati, and others: it extends from a. D. 1400 to a. n. 1600. The works of Michael Angelo, though a Florentine, do not belong to this school; neither do those of San Gallo and some others, who have been improperly classed as Florentine architects.

334. 2. Roman School. —Though the city of Rome, during the period of the rise and progress of the Roman school of architecture, was not altogether free from insurrectionary troubles, its palatial style is far less massive than that of Florence. None of its buildings present the fortress-like appearance of those in the last-named city. Indeed, the Roman palaces, from their grace and lightness, indicate, on the part of the people, habits of a much more pacific nature, and an advancing state of the art, arising from a more intimate acquaintance with the models of antiquity which were on every side. The introduction of columns becomes a favourite and pleasing feature, and great care and study appear to have been constantly bestowed on the façades of their buildings; so much so, indeed, in many, that they are but masks to indifferent interiors. In them the entrance becomes a principal object; and though in a great number of cases the abuses which enter into its composition are manifold, yet the general effect is usually successful. The courts in these palaces are most frequently surrounded with arcades, whence a staircase of considerable dimensions leads to the sala or principal room of the palace. The general character is that of grandeur, but devoid altogether of the severity which so strongly marks the Florentine school. The noblest example of a palace in the world is that of the Farnese family at Rome, to which we shall afterwards have occasion to return.

335. Bramante, born in 1444 at some place, but which is still in doubt, in the duchy of Urbino, must be considered the founder of the Roman school. Though educated as a painter under Fra Bartolomeo, and likely to have ranked in that occupation as a master of no ordinary powers, his great love of architecture induced him at an early period to quit painting as a profession. In Lombardy he wandered from city to city for the purpose of obtaining employment as an architect, but there is no evidence that his exertions in that part of Italy were rewarded with great success. The dry style which afterwards characterised his works has been said to have had its origin in his protracted stay at Milan, while the works of the Duomo were carrying on there under Bernardino di Trevi, a builder of such skill as to have gained the esteem of Leonardo da Vinci. Be this as it may, it was in this city his determination to follow our art became irrevocable. From Milan he went straightway to Rome; where, however, he was obliged to make himself known by some works in his first profession of a painter in the church of St. Giovanni Laterano. Naturally of hospitable and social disposition, and a lover of expense and luxury, so intense was his ardour to become great in the art he adopted that he refrained from all society, holding commerce only with the monuments of antiquity by which he was surrounded, studying with the utmost diligence, and drawing them for his future application of the principles upon which they were founded. He even extended his researches to Naples, losing no opportunity of noting all the ruins from which instruction in his art could be drawn. Oraffa (Cardinal of Naples), who had remarked his zeal, gave him his first commission in Rome, which was the construction of the cloister of the Convent della Pace; and this, from the intelligence and speed with which he executed the task, brought him at once into repute. At this period Rome could boast but of few architects, and those that were established there were of small account. The Florentine school seems to have sprung in the most decided manner from the habits of the people and the massiveness of their materials, modified by some knowledge of the buildings of the ancients: that of Rome seems to have been founded upon the principle of making the ancient architecture of Rome suit the more modern habits of a very different people, though living on the same spot. To explain more immediately our meaning, we cite the small circular chapel

of St. Pietro in Montorio, wherein we find a jump at once in the adaptation of the circular peripteral temple of the Romans to the purpose of Christian ceremonies. And again, it is impossible to look at the Palazzo della Cancelleria without being struck by the basement and two orders, which would be suggested by a contemplation of the Colisseum, though afterwards the Roman architects had the good sense to see that the orders of architecture placed against the walls of a building where the use was not required by the interior distribution was a tasteless and useless application of them. The architect of the Palazzo Farnese only uses them for the decorations of his windows. In this respect we hope good sense is once more returning to this country; and that the absurd practice in almost every case of calling in the orders to aid the effect of a façade, will be abandoned for the better plan of obtaining an imposing effect from the simplicity and arrangement of the necessary parts. We must, however, return to Bramante, whose other employment we pass over to come to his great work, -one which, after the continued labour upon it of his successor Michael Angelo, seems to have exhibited the great canons of art; one which has regulated all the modern cathedrals of Europe, for they are, in fact, but repetitions of it; and one, therefore, which requires a lengthened notice in this place, as intimately connected with the rapid progress of the Roman school. The ancient Basilica of St. Peter had become so ruinous that Pope Nicholas V., a man who delighted in magnificent undertakings, a lover of architecture, and of more than ordinary genius, had conceived the project of rebuilding it, and under the designs of Bernardo Rosellini had actually seen a portion of the design rise from the ground before his death. The project seemed then to be forgotten and abandoned, until Michael Angelo Buonarroti, seeking a place for the erection of the mausoleum of Julius II., upon which he was engaged, thought that the tribune of Rosellini's projected new basilica would be well suited for its reception, and accordingly proposed it to the pontiff. Julius, pleased with the suggestion, immediately sent for San Gallo and Bramante to examine into it. In these cases, one project generally suggests another, and the rearing a new St. Peter's became a fixed object in the mind of Julius II. The tribune of Nicholas V. was no longer thought of, except as a space to be included within the new works. He consulted several architects upon the subject; but the fact is, that the only real competition lay between Giuliano di San Gallo and Bramante. The last was the successful artist; and from a great number of projects the pope at last chose that upon which St. Peter's was afterwards commenced. The real design of Bramante can scarcely be traced in the basilica of the Vatican as executed. The changes it was doomed to undergo before completion, more than perhaps any other building was ever subjected to, have been drawn into a history by the Jesuit Bonanni. When Bramante died, his designs, if indeed he made any, were dispersed; and for what we do know of them we are indebted to Raffaelle, who took much pains in collecting the ideas of our architect, as they afterwards appeared in Serlio's Treatise on Architecture. The original plan of Bramante was simple, grand, and in its parts harmonious, and would doubtless have been effective, far beyond the edifice as executed. It has been well observed by Q. de Quiney, in his Life of Bramante, "Le Saint Pierre d'aujourd'hui parait moins grand qu'il ne l'est en effet. Le Saint Pierre de Bramante aurait certainement été plus grand encore en apparence qu'en réalité." There would moreover have been an accordance between the interior and exterior. The peristyle was to have three ranks of columns in depth, which would have necessarily had unequal intercolumniations. The cupola was rather that of the Pantheon, ornamented exteriorly with an order of columns. Bramante carried his imitation even to the steps round the springing of that monument. From the medals of the design struck about the period, it seems that the façade was to have been decorated at its extremities with two campanili; but the authority of a medal may be doubtful. The idea, therefore, which is said to have originated with Michael Angelo, of placing the dome of the Pantheon upon the vaulting of the Temple of Peace emanated from Bramante, though the honour of actually carrying such a project into execution belongs to Michael Angelo da Buonarroti. It is not, however, probable that if Bramante had lived he could have strictly executed the design he produced; for it has been well proved that the piers which carry the dome would not have been sufficiently substantial for the weight to be placed upon them, inasmuch as Bramante's cupola would have been much heavier than that executed by Michael Angelo, and that architect considered it necessary to make his piers three times as thick as the former had proposed for his cupola. Bramante's general design having been adopted by Julius II., was immediately commenced with a boldness and promptitude of which few but such men as Julius and Bramante were capable. One half of the ancient basilica was taken down; and on the 18th of April, 1506, the first stone of the new fabric was laid by the pope in the pier of the dome, commonly called that of Sta. Veronica. The four piers soon rose; the centres were prepared for connecting them by vaults, which were actually turned. The weight and thrust of the vaults, however, bent the piers, and cracks and fissures made their ap pearance in every direction. Thus, without more than their own weight, much less that of the cupola, the works threatened ruin. The great haste used in carrying on the