| CRISTO RAUL.ORG | 
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 POPE LEO X
 CHAPTER XV.
             LEO X AS THE PATRON OF THE ARTS. —THE STANZE,
             
             AMONG the artistic creations which owed their
            existence to the Medici Pope, works of painting hold the first rank in point of
            number, as well as on account of their intrinsic value and of the subjects they
            portray. Among these the wonderful achievements of Raphael are preeminent.
             With the reign of Leo X a new epoch in the
            artistic career of this master begins. Heavy and varied as the tasks might be
            with which the Pope plied him, the lovable and gifted painter of Urbino knew
            how to adapt his great talents to demands which multiplied almost in excess of
            human capacity. Wondrous was the devotion with which, up to the hour of his
            early death, he gave himself to the work he had to do ; astonishing was his
            zeal for study, his inexhaustible productiveness, the unflagging advance of his
            artistic power. Besides the obvious task of finishing the monumental frescoes
            in the Stanze, Lao X, in the first year of his pontificate, laid upon him
            simultaneously a second task not less difficult and extensive than the first,
            namely, the cartoons for the tapestries of the Sixtine Chapel.
             Along with these undertakings, each of
            which by itself was of a nature to exhaust all the artist's resources, there
            were yet many other commissions of greater or less importance to execute at the
            instance of the Pope and his artistic circle. Raphael, whose creative genius
            delighted in exerting all its powers to meet these increasing demands, found
            himself, in a proportionate degree, forced to call in his pupils to his aid.
            Vasari and the historians of art who have followed him have greatly exaggerated
            their number. There were at first only two painters who stood on a level with
            their master, Giovanni Francesco Penni and Giulio Romano. On those two
            favourites, who alone are entitled to be called his disciples in the fullest
            sense of the word, Raphael bestowed a lifelong affection and trust.
             Traces of other hands
            are already discernible in the fresco of the Meeting of Attila and Leo the
            Great. in the Stanza d'Eliodoro, the completion of which was interrupted by the
            illness and death of Julius II. The composition and drawing, as well as the
            colouring of this picture, disclose defects incompatible with the master-touch
            of Raphael. The landscape with ruins of Rome bears all the characteristics of
            Giovanni Francesco Penni ; Giovanni da Udine, to whom it was formerly
            attributed, is out of the question. In this fresco a marked alteration was made
            in the figure of Leo I; in Raphael's original sketch, this great Pope appears
            with the features of Julius II; the warlike Rovere, recognizable by his long
            beard, is here carried in his litter, wearing an expression of perfect tranquillity, to meet the savage and boisterous Hunnish
              king and his troop of horsemen, while the princes of the Apostles, Peter and
              Paul, sweep down from heaven with threatening gestures. The fresco as we now
              see it shows, in place of Julius II., his beardless successor Leo X, clothed in
              full pontifical vestments and mounted on the white charger which carried him in
              the battle of Ravenna, and, a year later, in the magnificent procession on his
              way to take possession of the Lateran. There is no doubt that the artist
              effected this metamorphosis at the special wish of the new Pope, who sought
              thus to hand down to posterity an enduring portrait of himself and a memorial,
              as well, of his deliverance from French captivity. Two inscriptions on the
              window beneath the Deliverance of St. Peter attest that the works in the Stanza
              d'Eliodoro were finished in the summer of I514.
               The order to decorate the third Stanza
            followed without delay, for on the 1st of July, 1514, Raphael informed his
            uncle, Simone Ciarla, that he had begun to paint another hall for His Holiness,
            for which he was to receive one thousand two hundred gold ducats. In the
            following year he sent to Dürer at Nuremburg, in order “to show his hand” to
            the German master, the red crayon sketch, now preserved at Vienna, of two
            figures in the sea-fight at Ostia. Not until June, 1517, was the painting of
            this hall completed ; so states the Ferrarese Envoy, and the inscription on the
            window is in agreement with this. The extraordinary delay in the completion of
            the third Stanza is explained by Raphael's nomination as architect of St.
            Peter's as early as 1514. This additional burden was made all the heavier by
            the ardour with which Raphael applied himself to it. His absorption in
            architectural matters led him to a thorough study of the antique, the influence
            of which is to be seen clearly in the frescoes of the third Stanza. But, on the
            other hand, the imperative claims of the new undertaking —the building of St.
            Peter's— forced him to allow his pupils, to a much larger extent, a free hand
            with his pictures, and to enlarge continually the scope of their co-operation.
            A merely superficial inspection of the frescoes in the third Stanza shows that
            not one of them is the work of Raphael's hand alone; more recent investigation
            has proved that even in their composition Raphael's influence has become, to
            some extent, sub ordinate.
             The idea of the fresco decoration in the
            third Stanza is closely connected with that in the Stanza d'Eliodoro : here
            also the greatness and power of the Papacy, as the central point of the Church,
            is to be celebrated with reference to the actual sovereignty of the exalted
            patron of the work. The purely personal references to the reigning Pontiff,
            which, only lightly touched on in the first Stanza, are brought out much more
            clearly in the second, receive in the third so strong an emphasis that the
            continuity of subject runs a risk of being broken ; and the intention thus intrusively
            forced on the notice of the beholder has a disturbing effect. The idea of
            restoring a combination with the subjects on the ceiling, where the Christ in
            Glory, painted by Perugino for Julius II, retained its place, was abandoned :
            the great frescoes on the walls tell their own story, but the only link which
            holds them together is the name of Leo. The fitting designation for the chamber
            would thus be “the Leonine Hall”. From the respective histories of Leo III and
            Leo IV, whom the Church has raised to her altars, two important incidents have
            been chosen which, besides suggesting the identity of the Papal names, were at
            the same time capable of application to events in the glorious present. And, as
            if something still were wanting, Leo III and Leo IV are invariably portrayed
            with the uncomely features of the Medici Pope. In thus displaying pictures
            which were mere offerings of homage to Leo X, the fact was over looked that
            paintings of this sort produce only a dis agreeable and chilling impression.
            One can well conceive that Raphael took little pleasure in a task so
            uncongenial to the natural bent of his genius, and delegated, as much as
            possible, its fulfilment to his pupils. At the utmost, by means of sketches and
            studies, he supplied the ground work of the “Fire in the Borgo”, which, as the
            master piece of the series, has given to the apartment the name of the “Stanza
            del Incendio”.
             The Liber Pontificalis relates how
            Leo IV, by making the sign of the Cross, quenched with marvellous quickness a
            fire which was ravaging the Borgo di San Pietro, the suburb which he had
            founded and fortified. The difficulty of treating such an
              occurrence pictorially need not be insisted upon, since the wonderful power of
              the pontifical blessing does not admit of perceptible expression. The person of
              the Pope in the act of blessing—the feature of the picture which to Leo X was
              of capital importance— has been thrown boldly into the background by the artist
              ; here he appears on a loggia of the Vatican, near to which the facade of the
              then existing Church of St. Peter’s is visible, while in the foreground the
              threatened victims of the raging flames are depicted with broad and powerful
              strokes, running, amid cries of distress, to the rescue or in flight. The
              frightful power of fire, when “it breaks through its fetters”, is here
              represented in a “genre picture of masterful style” with such extraordinary
              actuality that one understands why this particular fresco was such an object of
              admiration and imitation in the academic epoch. On both sides of the picture
              ancient palatial buildings, in which the fire is raging, are purposely dis
              played. On the one on the right hand men are busy trying to quench the flames ;
              two female figures, the modelling of which has hardly a counterpart in painting,
              and has made the group famous, hold out vessels full of water to the
              stout-hearted rescuers. On the left hand the flames have got the mastery, and
              have driven the inmates to head long flight. Only one, a mother, is forgetful
              of her own safety, and holds out her infant in swaddling clothes to the father
              who has roused himself in terror. Close by a stalwart youth, who has jumped
              naked from his bed, slides down the wall. On the extreme left a son, in the
              strength of youth, carries his father, scantily clothed, into the open, like Aeneas
              bearing Anchises ; behind him runs a spirited boy, likewise clad with only a
              few scraps of clothing. Amid these incidents, which recall
            Virgil's description of burning Troy, the group of women in the centre must not
            be overlooked, since it not only connects the foreground with the two sides of
            the picture, but also carries the eye back again to the figure of the Pope, in
            the background, as he makes the sign of blessing. One of the terror-stricken
            women who have congregated here has thrown herself on the ground and, with
            outstretched arms, cries to the Pontiff for help ; on him also is turned the
            gaze of a mother whose child has sunk upon its knees in prayer —a touching
            idyll in the midst of this world of distraction and fear! To the Head of the
            Church, as to a place of refuge, fly also the groups of people on the steps of
            the Papal palace—figures of extraordinary beauty, and portrayed with a thorough
            grasp of what is true in nature. All these beautiful details are certainly to
            be attributed to Raphael’s invention ; but he is not responsible for their
            combination, which is in parts defective, nor for the discrepancies in
            proportion. It is certain that the execution of the fresco was left entirely to
            his pupils ; the foreground is the work of Giulio Romano and the back ground
            that of Penni.
             The same considerations hold good in the
            case of the second fresco, which represents the victory of Leo IV in the
            sea-fight of Ostia ; only with this difference, that here Giulio Romano has, to
            a very considerable extent, influenced the composition as a whole. Leo IV, who
            faces the spectator in the person of Leo X, appears on the left, not far from
            the shore, enthroned on a fallen pedestal from the ruins of Ostia ; behind him
            are seen two of his chief advisers, Cardinals Medici and Bibbiena; the Pope,
            with uplifted eyes, gives thanks to heaven for his victory on the sea. The
            naval action itself fills the background. In front of him captive Saracens are
            already landing, who are represented as gagged and roughly handled ; among them
            is conspicuous the splendid form of a warrior ; the design of this figure was
            included in the sketch sent by Raphael to Dürer. Many of the subjects in this fresco show as
            clearly as those in the Conflagration in the Borgo how intent at this time
            Raphael and his school were on the study of ancient models.
             The two other frescoes in the Stanza del
            Incendio represent scenes from the life of Leo III : one is the Oath of
            Purgation against False Accusations, which this Pope “voluntarily and at no man’s
            instigation” took on the 23rd of December, 800, in the Church of St. Peter ;
            the other is the Coronation of Charlemagne, previously held in the same place,
            in which he assumes the bodily presence of Francis I. No sketches by Raphael,
            for these ceremonial pictures, which display all the pomp of the Leonine era,
            are extant. Everything indicates that not only their execution, but also their
            composition, was the work of Raphael’s pupils. The hard outlines and
            feeble colouring point to the conclusion that these frescoes come from the hand
            of Giovanni Francesco Penni.
             The
            choice of the events in the reigns of Leo III and Leo IV, which are represented
            in the Stanza del Incendio, was, we may be pretty sure, determined by an
            appropriateness to the historical career of Leo X which was more easily
            perceived by his contemporaries than it is by us at the present day. In order
            to discover in each fresco the circumstance to which it corresponds, we must
            carefully examine the administration of the Medici Pope previous to the year
            1517, instead of losing ourselves among farfetched surmises and generalities.
            An indication of the clearest kind is afforded by the fresco of the victory
            over the Saracens in the naval battle of Ostia. In the previous course of this
            history we have shown how preoccupied Leo X had been, from the beginning of his
            Pontificate, with the plan of a Crusade. At the time when the scheme of the
            frescoes was decided upon, the Pope’s crusading enthusiasm was at its height.
            The success of the Christian arms, which the Portuguese envoys had vouched for,
            and the continuous danger to which the seaboard of the Papal States was exposed
            from the piratical attacks of the Moslem, from whose hand Leo X had on one
            occasion escaped at Ostia, as if by a miracle, must have raised the interest of
            his contemporaries in this fresco to the highest pitch. Moreover, the arrival
            of unbelievers as captives, which is seen in the very forefront of the picture,
            was, for the Romans of Leo’s days, a by no means unusual spectacle. What
            far-reaching hopes were based on Leo X’s action in this question of a Crusade
            by an earnest man, Egidio Canisio, the General of the Augustinian Order, may be
            seen from a passage in his History, in which he represents the overthrow of Islam
            as already assured, since it is written   in
            the Apocalypse of St. John that victory belongs to the Lion (Leo) of the tribe
            of Juda. At a later day, when Leo X was engaged in his great attempt to unite
            the Princes of Christendom in an armed league against the unbelievers, the
            fresco in his chamber in the Vatican may have arisen before his eyes with even
            greater force of appeal than this sentence of holy writ.
             The Coronation of Charlemagne, who appears
            with the features of Francis I, contains, according to the commonly accepted
            explanation, a reference to the Papal approval of the French monarch’s efforts
            to secure the Imperial crown during the electoral conflict of 1519. But this
            interpretation is in the highest degree doubtful. The fresco was finished in
            1517, when the vaguest rumours concerning the projects of Francis were current—rumours which sprang up on the occasion of the Conference at Bologna, but had
            no substantial basis of fact. Still less apposite is the view of a more recent
            investigator, who sees in the picture the expression of the “absolute supremacy
            of the Church over the secular power”. Of course, it is correct to say that the
            ecclesiastical character of the Mediaeval Empire is forcibly brought out. But
            the really essential significance of the picture must be found in the strong
            accentuation of the duty of supporting the Holy See, which was bound up with
            the Imperial dignity. To this points the inscription beneath the fresco : “Charles
            the Great, support and shield of the Roman Church”. Now, if Charlemagne bears
            the likeness of Francis I, we learn from this what meaning was attached by
            members of the Roman Curia to the treaty made in October, 1515, with the King
            of France. By that treaty Francis had pledged himself expressly to protect the
            States of the Church in their entirety. It is he who now appears as the
            champion of the Church, and not the weak and vacillating prince who then bore
            the Imperial title.
               If these two frescoes in the Stanza del
            Incendio thus contain clear allusions to the political activity of Leo X, the
            two others may likewise bear a reference to his distinctively ecclesiastical
            government. Two events occupied the first place in point of interest at the
            time when the arrangements for the fresco decoration of the third Stanza were
            settled : the close of the Schism and the Council of the Lateran. With the
            latter the Oath of Purgation of Leo III is, without doubt, closely connected.
            The explanation of this fresco also has for long been a matter of hazardous and
            forced conjecture. Once again, a simple and yet sound interpretation is
            afforded by the inscription under the picture: “God, and not Man, is the Judge
            of Bishops”. This principle was laid down in the eleventh session of the
            Council, on the 19th of December, 1516, and in the Bull Unam sanctam, which had again been promulgated simultaneously with the repeal of the
            Pragmatic Sanction. The highest spiritual authority, it is here declared, must
            be judged by God alone, and not by men.
             The
            connection between the fresco of the quelling of the conflagration in the Borgo
            and the history of Leo X. presents an enigma of great difficulty. The allusion
            is, probably, to the close of the Schism, whereby the Pope was able, with
            unexpected promptitude, to extinguish a perilous intestine fire within the
            Church. But along with this motive there is another which cannot be mistaken.
            The representation of the facade of the old St Peter’s, which was doomed to
            destruction, the architectural details in the foreground so obviously intended
            for display and which have nothing to do with the Borgo, might be intended to
            suggest the zeal with which, from the first, Leo had applied himself to the
            construction of the new basilica of the Prince of the Apostles. Thus the
            transference of the real subject of the picture to the background explains
            itself. Raphael, as the architect of St. Peter's, wished, by means of this
            fresco, to convey to his patron, who had nominated him the successor of
            Bramante, a delicate compliment of homage and thanks.
             After the works in the Stanza del Incendio
            were finished, there yet remained, for the completion of the adornment of the
            Pope's state apartments, the mural painting of the great hall next the Stanza
            d'Eliodoro, which immediately adjoins the Loggie. The choice of subjects for
            treatment presented difficulties, for a continuation of the line adopted in the
            Leonine chamber was open to question. Even Leo X did not refuse to recognize
            that, by confining Raphael's work to pictures of a merely ceremonial and
            official character, he was turning his talent into a narrowing groove ; that
            his tasks must again have a wider scope and higher aim, if there was not to be
            too great an incongruity between the first and the last paintings in the
            Stanze. Under these circumstances it was a very happy conception of the Pope’s
            when he fixed, as his choice of subject, on the events in the life of the
            Emperor Constantine—events belonging to the history of the world, and of a
            prince under whom Christianity made its victorious entry into Rome, and to whom
            tradition had ascribed the donation of the States of the Church. To Raphael
            also was entrusted the task of settling the beautiful general arrangement of
            this hall. Of the frescoes, that of Constantino's victory at the Milvian Bridge
            is, in all certainty, drawn from a detailed sketch by the master himself. The
            grandeur of style which runs through this whole fresco, executed by Giulio
            Romano, shows the touch of a master of the first rank. If we turn our eyes from
            the cold grey colouring of the fresco, and, with the aid of an engraving,
            scrutinize the drawing alone, we receive the impression that this, the noblest
            battle-piece in the world, can have come from the hand of Raphael alone.
               While Raphael’s pupils were painting the
            Leonine hall, their master was engaged on the designs for the tapestries, which
            on Church festivals were to adorn the lower walls of the Sixtine Chapel in
            place of the older hangings now worn out and shabby. This work must have come
            to an end about Christmas, 1516, after several years’ application. It consisted
            of ten lightly-tinted cartoons, of the exact size and shape which were to be
            reproduced in the looms, on which the chief events in the lives of St. Peter
            and St. Paul were painted in distemper. For each cartoon the Pope paid one hundred
            gold ducats.
             At that time the execution of the
            tapestries could only be carried out in Flanders. The former headquarters for
            the fabrication of such articles in that country, Arras, whence from an early
            period the Italians had given the name “Arazzi” to the productions of the
            weaver’s skill, had, ever since its capture by Louis XI in 1477, been unable to
            maintain so important a manufacture. Brussels had for a long time become the
            centre for this industry, and thither accordingly Leo X. also turned. The
            despatch of the cartoons to Brussels must have followed without delay, since
            already, at the end of July, 1517, Cardinal Luigi d'Aragona was able, during
            his stay in that city, to admire the first of the designs, the Committal of the
            Keys to Peter. The Cardinal, who was a man of artistic tastes, visited the
            workshops in person ; in his opinion the whole series of tapestries would be
            reckoned among the most wonderful achievements of Christian Art. The execution
            in wool, silk, and gold thread was, under the supervision of Raphael's pupil
            Bernhard van Orley. in the hands of Peter van Aelst, who, besides the title of
            Court Purveyor to His Holiness, received for each piece of tapestry 1500
            ducats, making a total of 15,000.
             By the beginning of July, 1519, three of
            the hangings had reached Rome : the Venetian Ambassador writes in admiration of
            their fine workmanship and of their value.* Four more must have come to hand in
            the autumn ; for it is on record that the Pope ordered seven of these new
            tapestries, as beautiful as they were costly, to be hung in the Sixtine Chapel
            oil St. Stephen's day, below the frescoes on the walls. Although here and there
            the voice of envy found expression in unfavourable criticism, yet the general
            impression was one of unmixed admiration. “All present in the Chapel”, relates
            the Papal Master of Ceremonies, Paris de Grassis, “were struck at the sight of
            these noble tapestries, which, with universal consent, were adjudged to be
            among the things of beauty which cannot be surpassed in all the world”.  The Venetian Marcantonio Michiel bears
            witness that in the general opinion these tapestries are the most beautiful
            productions of their kind that have ever yet been wrought ; they excel those in
            the antechamber of Julius II. as much as the latter surpass those of the
            Marquis of Mantua, or those in the palace of the King of Naples. The latest
            criticism is more matter-of-fact, and discovers technical faults due to
            defective execution. Not only Raphael’s own contemporaries but later
            generations have overlooked these defects. “A marvellous and astonishing work”,
            writes Vasari, “for it passes human wit to understand how it is possible for
            the interweaving of threads so to represent in the woof the hairs of the head
            and beard or so to reproduce the consistency of human flesh, and the impression
            made by the whole is rather that of a miracle than of a work of human skill.
            Water, animals, and buildings are represented in such perfection that they
            appear not to have been woven on the loom, but to have been painted with the
            brush”.
             The best evidence both of the extent and
            the continuity of this great admiration of the tapestries is afforded by the
            numerous plates which were struck, and by the copies, in the form of
            hand-worked carpets, which were already forthcoming, in a certain quantity,
            before the close of the 1 6th century. Of the latter, some of the finest
            specimens adorn, at the present day, the art collections of Berlin, Dresden,
            Madrid, and Vienna, and also the Cathedral of Loreto.
             The Vatican originals have undergone many
            vicissitudes which reflect in a remarkable way the changing fortunes of the
            Papal power. After the death of Leo X they were pawned, on account of the then
            existing financial distress, but were afterwards redeemed and again restored to
            the Sixtine Chapel. They were still conspicuous there when, in May, 1527, the
            corpse of the Constable de Bourbon found a shelter in that sanctuary. Soon,
            however, the gold threads in their tissue aroused the love of plunder in the
            mercenaries. Since an attempt to extract them by melting, which was tried on
            the lower part of the hanging representing the Blinding of Elymas, led to
            little result, at any rate several of the pieces, if not all, were put up for
            sale. Already in 1530 negotiations were pending for the repurchase of a piece
            of tapestry stolen during the sack of the city. In an inventory of 1544, seven
            hangings are enumerated among the contents of the Papal palace. Under Julius
            III two more pieces were restored which had been carried away from Venice to
            Constantinople. Henceforward they were used not only in the decoration of the
            Sixtine Chapel, but also of the Piazza of St. Peter's on Corpus Christ! Day. Goethe,
            who saw them, with admiration, on the latter occasion, in 1787, thought that they
            were the only works of Raphael which did not appear insignificant after looking
            at the frescoes of Michael Angelo in the Sixtine Chapel. During the storm of
            the French Revolution the tapestries were once more removed from Rome. In the
            beginning of 1798 they were, along with the furniture of the Pope, put up to
            auction and bought by French dealers in old furniture. The latter conveyed them
            to Genoa and then to Paris, where for a considerable time they were exposed to
            view in the courts of the Louvre. Their purchase by the French Government fell
            through on financial ground. At length Pius VII, just before his journey into
            France, secured the restoration of these treasures to his palace. In 1814 they
            were placed, by order of the Pope, in the so-called chamber of Pius V ; hence
            they were transferred by Gregory XVI. to the corridor adjoining the Galleria
            dei Candelabri, which since then has been called the Galleria degli Arazzi.
             It is owing to these mischances that the
            tapestries today show only a faint reflection of their former splendour. The
            bright and delicate colours, especially in the flesh tints, have become faded ;
            many places have been coarsely restored ; from one tapestry the under half has
            been taken away, to others the wrong borders have been attached. In spite of
            this it is impossible not to recognize, still under lying all, one of the
            ripest creations of the great master. The full impression of Raphael’s genius
            can indeed only be given back to us by the cartoons which were left behind at
            Brussels and were not reclaimed by the successors of Leo X. Seven of these
            original drawings, which Rubens discovered simultaneously in 1630, belong to
            the art collection of the English Crown, and form today one of the most
            noteworthy objects in the South Kensington Museum, London.
               According to Vasari, Penni gave his master
            great assistance in painting the cartoons for the tapestries in the Papal
            Chapel. On the strength of this information and from personal observation the
            older biographers of Raphael assume that only in the Miraculous Draught of
            Fishes is the principal work to be attributed to his own hand, and that in all
            the remaining London cartoons only the drawing and certain single portions,
            especially the heads, belong to him. More recently even this latter claim has
            been gainsaid. An experienced art student has maintained, with great acuteness
            and learning, but without having seen the originals in London, the hypothesis
            that the composition as it stands is the work of Penni, and that Raphael had
            only thrown off the first and often very hasty sketches. This view is, however,
            an untenable one. Art critics of eminence, before and since, hold fast, with
            perfect justice, to the opinion that Raphael’s participation in the cartoons
            taken from scenes from the history of the Apostles, cannot be narrowed down to
            this extent. Certainly an authentic drawing of the master’s exists only for the
            one cartoon of the Call of St. Peter, but, for the others also, sketches,
            corresponding more or less, from Raphael’s own hand, must have been
            forthcoming. “The perfection of the individual figures in form, dress, gesture,
            and expression is so thoroughly impressed with the stamp of the master’s own
            hand, that it seems impossible to substitute for it the hand of a disciple”. If not in all the seven, yet certainly in four of the London
              cartoons, all the essential traits can be assigned to Raphael and to him only.
              The figures, in their organic structure and in the convincing force of their
              expression, reveal the great and immediate influence of the presiding genius
              which not only threw out the general design of the composition, but, almost
              down to the least detail, controlled its arrangement. This does not exclude the
              certainty that Penni had a more or less extensive share in
            the colouring of the cartoons, but against the assumption that the pupil had
            worked in almost entire independence of his master, strong grounds can be
            adduced in addition to those already brought forward on internal evidence. Even
            if too much weight is not attached to the circumstance that, in the accounts,
            as well as in the estimation of all his contemporaries, the cartoons were
            adjudged to be the work of Raphael, there is yet another consideration which
            has a most important bearing on the balance of evidence, namely, that Penni, at
            the time of their execution, had only just entered on his twentieth year. This
            fact gives substantial support to the supposition that his workmanship in its
            entirety was under the direction and guidance of a superior hand. It is, at any
            rate, in the highest degree unlikely that so young a man should have produced,
            almost unaided, so great a work. On the other hand, Penni's contribution to the
            colouring of the cartoons was certainly an important one. It is very difficult
            to assign with certainty the extent of Raphael’s co-operation in details. But
            that his influence here is also unmistakable must be admitted by anyone who has
            had an opportunity of studying the originals in London ; the effect of the
            colours is so remarkable, especially in forming a judgment on the whole, that
            not even the best photograph can give a true reproduction of the pictures.
             How great Raphael's influence must have
            been on the seven London cartoons is best shown by comparing them, as regards
            composition and execution, with the three remaining tapestries of the first
            series, of which the drawings have been lost. The want of spontaneity, the
            pettiness, the exaggeration, which in the latter strike the beholder, show
            that, in these pictures (the Stoning of St. Stephen, the Conversion of St. Paul
            and the imprisonment of the latter) the pupils were left to themselves.
             Still less successful is the second series
            of tapestries, representing scenes in the life of Christ, set on foot by Leo X,
            but only finished under Clement VII. The drawings for a third series of wrought
            tapestries, which Leo X, in his love of sumptuous adornment, had ordered Peter
            van Aelst to prepare in Brussels, contained a sketch by Tommaso Vincidor, that
            of the Children at Play (Giuochi di Putti). This last-named pupil of Raphael,
            who had been sent by the Pope to Brussels for the special purpose of
            superintending the work, informs his master, in a letter of the 20th of July,
            1521, that he had completed the cartoon of the Giuochi di Putti, the most beautiful
            and the most costly hanging that had ever yet been seen.
             The tapestries of the first series are of
            such high importance that they are entitled to something more than a cursory
            notice in this work. They depict with incomparable skill and great dramatic
            effect the infancy of the Church ; one half represents events from the history
            of St. Peter, the other, those from that of St. Paul. Their arrangement in the
            Sixtine Chapel was probably determined with regard to the circumstance
              that to the right and left of the entrance, galleries had been erected from
              which ladies could witness the ceremonies on greater festivals, a permission
              which had never been granted in the case of the Sixtine Chapel previous to Leo
              X. Where the galleries ended the tapestries began, two on each side of the
              space allotted to the laity and three on each side of the sanctuary. On the
              left, or Gospel side of the wall the Call of St. Peter hung below the
              Destruction of Core and his Company ; under the Giving of the Law on Sinai, the
              Healing of the Lame Man ; under the Passage of the Red Sea, the Death of
              Ananias ; under the Infancy of Moses, the Stoning of St. Stephen ; under the
              Circumcision of Moses, the Miraculous Draught of Fishes. On the right, or
              Epistle side, under the Baptism of Christ was hung the Conversion of the
              Apostle St. Paul ; under the Purification Offerings of the Lepers, the Blinding
              of Elymas; under the Call of the first Disciples, the Sacrifice at Lystra;
              under the Sermon on the Mount, the Deliverance of St. Paul from Prison ; under
              the Committal of the Keys, the Preaching of St. Paul at Athens. This
              arrangement clearly shows the skill and care with which the choice of subjects
              for the tapestries had been made. They cover the walls of the Chapel as far as
              the galleries, and narrate in close chronological order the deeds of the
              Apostles, simply continuing the series set forth in the wall paintings. The
              only deviation from the chronological sequence is in the introduction of St.
              Peter's Miraculous
                Draught of Fishes between the Papal throne and the altar wall —an arrangement
                which is accounted for by the Pope's wish to decorate the beginning and end of
                the wall, against which his throne was placed, with subjects illustrative of
                the Papal primacy.
                 The large compositions in the central
            panels of the tapestries were surrounded by broad, ornamental borders, all of
            which have certainly not been preserved. The perpendicular borders,
            corresponding to the pillars of the Chapel, display grotesque patterns in
            colour on a white or gold ground ; allegorical figures of great beauty are
            grouped together at intervals, between vases and branch work. This treatment of
            the borders was also partly intended to form a contrast to the main subjects
            portrayed, and thus to throw the latter into strong relief. Thus it is not a
            mere accident that the Fates and the Hours form the framework for the
            appointment of St. Peter to the office of Chief Shepherd, for here the contrast
            implied is that between the power of time and fate over the bodies of men, and
            the power of the keys of Christ’s Vicar over their souls. The transverse strips
            contain small pictures in a gold-bronze colour arranged in a sort of frieze.
            Under the subjects taken from the life of St. Paul, these miniature designs
            have reference to the leading picture above them, and develop the narrative
            which it illustrates ; but under those taken from the life of St. Peter,
            certainly at the special wish of the Pope, incidents from the career of the latter,
              previous to his election, appear, among them being some even of the less
              glorious, such as his flight from Florence in disguise and his capture at the
              battle of Ravenna. “To this child of fortune, everything that befell him in the
              course of his experience appeared not only worthy of note, but fit subject for
              memorial.” By the side of this prentice work the chief pictures stand out all
              the more impressively; and yet it is only the cartoons which can impart their
              full impression, for not even the most perfect textile skill was capable of
              reproducing the original purity of the designs.
                 The series of cartoons in preservation, on which time has certainly left traces of its passage, begins with the Miraculous Draught of Fishes. The artist has closely followed the narrative in the fifth chapter of St. Luke’s gospel. In the early morning Jesus had preached to the multitudes from the ship on the lake of Genesareth, and had then put out with Peter : the latter, at his Lord's bidding, had once more let down his nets. Peter had obeyed the Master's word, although he had toiled all the night and had caught nothing. And lo ! his obedience is wondrously rewarded ; the nets cannot contain the fishes, they begin to break ; a second boat, in which are John and James, is signalled to bring help ; but so great is the load of fishes that both the boats are in danger of sinking. All are overpowered with amazement at the mighty wonder ; but Peter flings himself at Jesus’ feet under a deep sense of unworthiness. “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man”. The Lord answers gently, “Fear not, from henceforth thou shalt catch men” It is this incident which the artist has
            portrayed. In front are two boats sunk deep in the water through the
            overdraught of fishes, and purposely depicted of so small a size that the
            figures of those they carry stand out in commanding proportions. In one of the
            two little vessels are John and James, rough, downright fishermen, busily
            engaged in securing the overabundant haul, while beside them the steersman does
            all he can to keep the balance of the too heavily freighted craft. At the prow
            of the other boat, in majestic calm, sits our Lord, wearing a bright blue
            garment with a white mantle, and seemingly alight with a sheen of glory ; His
            hand is uplifted, and He has just spoken the momentous words to Peter. On the
            face of the chief Apostle, who entreats his Master with folded hands, is
            displayed, with inimitable art, the humblest faith, the utmost devotion, and
            the deepest happiness. Behind Peter, who is clad in blue, stands a second
            disciple in green, probably Andrew, with bent breast and out stretched arms.
            This picture of unbounded devotion to Christ emphasizes in the most skilful way
            the impression made by the figure of Peter. A still more striking instance of
            Raphael's artistic mastery is disclosed in the way in which he brings the group
            of figures in the boats into one line, which, starting from that of the
            steersman, culminates in Andrew, sinks again to a lower level in Peter, and
            once more finds its point of elevation in Christ. “To Him all leads ; the
            action of the picture finds its centre in Him, and although small in size and
            placed at the utmost edge of the composition, the figure of Jesus dominates all”.
             The mysterious charm which rests over the
            whole scene is heightened by the highly poetical character of the landscape :
            it is the fresh early morning, a light breeze stirs the garments and hair of
            the fishermen, the waters of the lake sparkle bright and clear, reflecting the
            figures. In the near distance appears the city of Capharnaum, with the crowds
            still excited by the teaching of the Lord ; while in the foreground on the
            shore are shells, crab-fish, and a group of herons, with gaping bills, eager to
            be fed.
             The next picture has the closest connection
            with the miraculous draught of fishes, the symbol of Peter's apostolic mission.
            Before the Lord appoints him as His vicar on earth, He again blesses his
            draught of fishes ; but this time the nets do not break. After the threefold
            avowal of his love, the Saviour, with the thrice repeated words, “Feed my lambs, feed my sheep”, ordained him to the chief Pastorate over all
              the redeemed on earth, nor excluding the Apostles themselves. The scene of this
              event, as described by St. John (xxi. 11-17) was also the lake of Genesareth,
              which the artist has introduced in the back ground. The principal personage,
              next to the supreme figure of the Saviour, is the kneeling chief of the
              Apostles.
                 In the foreground appears the glorified
            form of the risen Jesus, with the marks of the wounds in His hands and feet. He
            is covered with a white garment sown with golden stars, which leaves the breast
            and one arm free. As though He were passing them by He is half turned towards
            His disciples with an expression of unspeakable love and sublimity; for the
            words, “Feed my lambs, feed my sheep”, have been spoken already. Pointing with
            one hand to Peter and with the other to the lambs, He gives by this double
            gesture the most emphatic expression to His command. In sharpest contrast to
            the supernatural calm on the countenance of the risen Lord is the excited
            demeanour of the disciples. Peter, who is clothed in orange-coloured vesture,
            overpowered by the task com mitted to him, has sunk upon his knees in ardent
            supplication, and gazes upwards on his Master with a look of overflowing gratitude.
            No power on earth shall wrest from him the keys committed to him, and he
            presses the symbols of his new authority eagerly against his beating heart. The
            rest of the disciples have drawn close together in deep agitation. Some, like
            John, may wear a look of joyous entreaty, but on the faces of the others is
            stamped amazement at the sudden appearance of their Master among them. The
            whole composition is again set amidst harmonious landscape scenery.
             The subject illustrated in these first two pictures
            is the most momentous event in the Church’s history, the institution of the
            Primacy. While Raphael here follows the Gospels, in the succeeding cartoons he
            takes the Acts of the Apostles as his guide and adheres to them with great
            fidelity. It was with deliberate intention that the painter or his theological
            adviser discarded any attempt to portray the numerous instances in which the
            history of St. Peter came in touch with that of the Eternal City and which had
            been so often depicted already. The “Book of Books” was the only source from
            which he drew his inspiration ; herein with deep insight he made his choice of
            incidents, at once dramatic and symbolical, whereby to convey unique and
            striking illustrations of the Church's power to heal and bless, to judge and
            punish, and to be the apostolic teacher of mankind.
             How the Church blesses and heals is set
            forth in the miracle wrought by Peter on the beggar who was lame from his
            birth. In accordance with the book of the Acts (chap, iii), the scene of the miracle
            is the “Beautiful Gate of the Temple” at Jerusalem. Three twisted columns,
            entwined with clusters of grapes, like those which stood in the old Church of
            St. Peter and were said to have come from Solomon’s Temple, divide the picture
            into three clearly-marked groups. In the centre the miracle takes place ;
            Peter, with an expression of great dignity and penetrated by faith in the power
            of the Divine Word, raises the lame man, who is represented with wonderful
            fidelity to nature, “in the name of Jesus of Nazareth”, and bids him walk,
            while John, full of love and compassion, points to the victim of misfortune ;
            on both sides are men and women whose countenances reflect the most varied
            expressions of sympathy, joy, curiosity, and fear. Another misshapen creature,
            leaning on a crutch, is already dragging himself forward, filled with hope.
            Children run to and fro heed less of all that is going on, lovely figures which
            efface the revolting impression made by the cripple's deformity.
             It is the task of the Church, however, not
            only to heal and bless, but to judge and punish. This truth is the subject of
            the fourth cartoon ; on a platform, in the centre, stands the assembly of the
            Apostles, earnest and solemn figures; on one side the faithful are bringing
            their gifts, which, on the other, are being distributed to the needy. In the
            foreground, Ananias, to the consternation of those around him, has sunk dying
            on the ground, for at that very moment Peter, stepping forth from the ranks of
            his colleagues, has pronounced with power, as the organ of the Holy Spirit, the
            doom on the deceiver, which has straightway been carried out. “Ananias, why
            hath Satan tempted thy heart, that thou shouldst lie to the Holy Ghost, and by
            fraud keep part of the price of the land? Thou hast not lied to men, but to God”.
            At Peter’s side stands another majestic Apostle with his hand lifted up to
            heaven, from whence the judgment proceeds ; he glances towards Sapphira, as she
            draws near on the right hand. Her look is cunning, and while she holds the
            money in one hand, she withdraws some of the coins with the other, unconscious
            of the vengeance which has swiftly overtaken her husband and is now to overtake
            her.
             Only three cartoons are preserved from the
            series celebrating the life of St. Paul. The first, the Blinding of the
            sorcerer Elymas, is a worthy counterpart to the Punishment of Ananias. The
            Apostle of the Gentiles and the impostor who was bent on thwarting the
            Proconsul Sergius Paulus in his search for the true faith, are con fronted face
            to face. Paul, full of lofty calm, in which the power of faith reveals itself,
            only stretches out one hand to punish. Filled with the Holy Ghost, he speaks
            the words, “Thou shalt be blind”, and, at the same moment, Elymas is stricken. “There
            fell a mist and darkness upon him” as the Scripture says, “and going about, he
            sought someone to lead him by the hand” (Acts XIII, 1 1). Raphael has brought
            this out admirably. The wretched Elymas is the picture of misery. He is
            distorted with terror at the sudden loss of sight, and with half-opened mouth,
            and his head with its sightless eyes bent forward, as if in quest of something,
            with uncertain steps he gropes forward, stretching out the finger-tips of both
            hands. Raphael has here produced “an insurpassable picture of the state of
            blindness”. The terrified Proconsul, who is enthroned in the centre, and his
            companions, dumbfounded with astonishment, are less successful. The opinion is
            justified that Raphael had withdrawn his attention from this portion of the
            picture.
             To him, however, the two next cartoons must
            certainly be attributed. The sixth depicts the excitement of the people of
            Lystra at the miracle worked by St. Paul, their readiness to offer sacrifice to
            him and Barnabas as gods, and the strenuous efforts of the latter to prevent
            them ; Paul rends his garments in grief at the infatuation of these heathen
            people (Acts XIV). The painter, with wise dis crimination, has transferred the
            figures of the Apostles to an elevated standpoint apart from the other figures.
            The incident of the sacrifice, freely adapted from an ancient bas-relief, is
            treated in an extremely noble manner. Magnificent also are the bold
            architectural details in the background, where the figure of the ancient deity
            by the side of Paul is suggestively conspicuous. The figure of the Apostle,
            under the influence of the most varying emotions, the priests busily intent on
            the rites of sacrifice, and the uncouth features of the healed cripple, beaming
            with thankfulness, are all represented with incomparable skill.
             In the seventh cartoon, St. Paul Preaching
            at Athens, the genius of Raphael reveals itself in a quite inimitable manner.
            Hardly ever has a grander or nobler representation been given of the
            fiery-hearted man who, at the call of God, devoted the whole force of his
            mighty intellect and soul to the world-embracing task of Christianizing the
            Graeco-Roman civilization. Raphael has applied all the resources of his art to
            depict the “chosen vessel” as the spiritual centre of his picture. High above
            all stands the great teacher in his green robe and red mantle, almost in the
            very forefront of the picture, like a pillar of the faith, on the Hill of Mars,
            which is indicated by the temple building and the statue of Ares. Fully
            possessed by his apostolic calling, he proclaims “Jesus and the Resurrection”
            (Acts XVII. 18 seqq.). The Apostle, whose attitude and garb show clear traces
            of the Paul of Masaccio in the Brancacci Chapel, holds both arms up to heaven
            and has advanced to the very edge of the steps above which he stands. This
            powerful figure, full of a splendid apostolic majesty, when once seen can never
            again be forgotten ; the deep earnestness and weighty eloquence of this
            incomparable preacher radiate from him through the circle of his hearers. Paul
            dominates all the rest, not merely because he stands on a higher level, but
            also because his hearers are, without exception, drawn on a smaller scale.
            Finally, the most thorough examination only increases still further the
            impression produced by this lofty figure. Like some unearthly apparition he
            holds fast his auditory, who cannot shake off the spell of his inspiring words.
            On the faces of his hearers are reflected manifold emotions : reluctant
            attention, quick interchange of opinion, critical reflection, silent doubt. Two
            persons only are fully convinced of the truth of the new doctrines, a man and a
            woman, who come quickly forward on the left hand of the steps ; especially in
            the burning glance and outstretched hands of the former do we see the signs of
            ecstatic self-surrender to the God who, from henceforth, shall be no more “unknown”,
            and a blessed rejoicing in the promise of immortal life. Here Raphael follows
            with exactitude the narrative of the Scripture, which states that only a few
            persons adhered to the Apostle and believed, among whom were Dionysius and a
            woman named Damaris. In the Preaching of St. Paul the whole history of the
            Church is summed up, as if in a few words—the apostolic message of the truth,
            its rejection by a great portion of mankind, and its faithful acceptance by the
            elect.
             The cartoons of Raphael are, it has been
            said, the counterpart in modern art of the classic sculptures of the Parthenon.
            Higher praise can hardly be given, and in presence of the Draught of Fishes and
            of the St. Paul at Athens, such an encomium is intelligible. But even if less
            than this is conceded, it must be admitted that these compositions are worthy
            of a place beneath the ceiling of Michael Angelo; they are penetrated by a
            spirit of genuine faith, and are a noble offspring of the Renaissance,
            unsurpassed in the startling fidelity with which they portray the grand and
            simple narratives of Holy Scripture. f They mark, in the evolution of Raphael's
            powers, the beginning of the period in which his creative processes reached
            their highest point, when, out of the depths of his ripened experience and
            under the influence of antiquity and of Michael Angelo, he achieved “works of
            unapproachable grandeur, in which all the elements of a grand style, space,
            proportion, light, and expression form an imposing whole in harmonious
            combination”.  In many respects the
            tapestries show Raphael at his best; taken as a whole, the boldness, freedom,
            and grandeur of their traits show how closely the master had assimilated the
            spirit of Eternal Rome.
             The influence of the tapestries on later art cannot be estimated ; it has been still greater than that of the Stanze. “They were the treasure chambers from which were taken the types of expression of human emotion, and Raphael’s reputation as a draughtsman rests mainly on these works. Western art has had no other pattern for the expressions of wonder and fear, of anguish and dignity, on the human countenance”. The sublimity of the subjects, than which none more befitting the private chapel of the Pope could have been chosen, corresponded to that of their artistic treatment. Michael Angelo had painted on the ceiling the creation and primaeval history of mankind up to the Flood, along with Prophets and Sibyls as heralds of the New Covenant. The masters of the “Quattrocento” had displayed on the intermediate walls the period of the Law as represented in the life of Moses, and the kingdom of grace as represented in that of Christ. This kingdom was to endure to the end of the ages. Raphael, therefore, determined to continue in his tapestries the history of our salvation, which began with the creation of the world, by portraying the institution of the Primacy and the life of the early church as illustrated by the Acts of the Apostles. The spectator is thus expressly reminded that he is standing in the central spot in Christendom, in the private sanctuary of the Church's head. The wondrous deeds of the Princes of the Apostles, who hallowed Rome by their martyrdoms, the call of the one to be chief ruler, of the other to worldwide apostolic labours—this is the theme of his immortal work. Under Leo X, in the Papal Chapel, the Roman Church, as the way of salvation, in the persons of her two most prominent representatives, St. Peter the Prince of the Apostle and the first Pope, and St. Paul the Apostle of the Gentiles, has been glorified in the golden letters of consummate art. Along with the frescoes in the Stanze and
            the tapestries, ranks yet a third not less remarkable work, which Leo undertook
            for the adornment of the Vatican, namely, the Loggie. Each of the three stories
            of the Vatican opens on to a row of arcades. The middle one of these in the
            eastern wing has gained world-wide renown under the name of Raphael's Loggie.
            It rightly forms, along with the Sixtine Chapel and the Stanze, one of the
            greatest attractions for all travellers in Rome. The building of this beautiful apartment was begun by
              Bramante, and continued, after his death, by Raphael. The date, 1513, in the
              twelfth arcade of the Loggie, indicates the beginning of a work which, at the
              latest, was ended in 1518. More precise information about the history of the
              building is lacking. The Papal accounts for August and September, 1518, afford
              a certain amount of data as regards the laying of the floor. This consisted of
              costly slabs of majolica from the Florentine workshops of the Della Robbia,
              whose emblem was displayed upon them on a carpet pattern. The execution of the
              richly carved doors, ornamented with the arms of the Medici, was entrusted to
              Giovanni Barile of Siena.
               We
            are sadly in want of detailed information about the origin of the decorations
            with which the walls, pillars, and ceilings of the Loggie are filled. When
            these works were begun is still a matter of uncertainty. One thing only is certain,
            that the completion of this noble piece of decoration was brought about all
            too soon. This, according to authentic sources, was in the summer of 1519. The
            account books mention, on the 11th of June of that year, a sum of twenty-five
            ducats paid to Raphael’s assistants who had painted in the Loggie. A few days
            later, on the 16th of June, 1519, Baldassare Castiglione wrote to the
            Marchioness Isabella d’Este: “The Pope takes more pleasure than ever in music
            and architectural works. He continues to erect new buildings in the Vatican; a
            Loggia has just been finished there, and painted and ornamented with stucco
            after antique designs ; it is a work of Raphael, and is as beautiful as
            anything can well be, and is perhaps a more perfect piece of work than anything
            that we can show at the present time.” In agreement with this account
            are various letters of the Venetian Marcantonio Michiel. On the 4th of May, 1519, he reports that Raphael has completed
            the painting of a very long Loggia, and is making preparations for the work on
            two others. On the 27th of December, Michiel returns to the subject again : “The
            undermost Loggia of the Vatican”, he says in a despatch which is as interesting
            as it is important, "has just been finished. It is adorned with stucco
            work, grotesques, and similar designs ; the work has not been carried out with
            great finish, for not much money has been spent upon it ; yet it is pleasing to
            the eye. The reason why this arcade has been sparingly treated is that it is
            open to all the inmates of the Palace ; even persons on horseback use it,
            although this Loggia is on the first story. The one above is very differently
            treated ; it is closed, and can only be opened by the Pope's permission. It
            contains pictures of high value and great charm, which have only just been
            finished, and for which Raphael drew the sketches. The Pope besides has brought
            hither a number of antique statues which were before kept in the private
            apartments, and were bought partly by himself and partly by Julius II. They are
            set up in niches between the windows, which face the columns of the gallery,
            immediately alongside of the Papal apartments and the Hall of the Consistory”.
             As an approach to the Stanze, or state
            apartments of the Pope, the Loggia of the second story, with its thirteen bays,
            was adorned with all that the then existing art could supply. Not only on the
            small, dome-shaped ceilings, but on all other surfaces of the arcade, which originally
            were open and were permeated by the clearest light, was lavished a decoration
            in which sculpture and painting were combined in a way never since repeated.
            The spirit of the Leonine age is here conspicuously illustrated by the
            brightness and splendour of the whole, and by the free intermixture of
            Christian and pagan subjects. The Biblical pictures on the ceilings have a
            character well befitting the palace of the chief ruler of the Church ; the
            decorations on the walls recall the Pope who was hardly surpassed by any of his
            predecessors in his love for the study of antiquity.
             The scheme of decoration comprised in the
            thirteen shallow domes of the roof is carried out on a strong and simple plan.
            The ceiling of the seventh dome, as the central point of the whole, is rendered
            conspicuous by rich adornments of stucco, in the centre of which is the large
            armorial blazon of Leo X. In the rest of the ceilings the key-stone is formed
            by the devices of the Medici placed alternately and in pairs—the diamond ring with
            the three coloured ostrich feathers, and the yoke, which are upheld by figures
            of winged genii.
             Each dome is adorned with four small
            frescoes, those in the central arcade having frames of stucco, while the others
            have painted borders. Forty-eight of these are of subjects drawn from the Old
            Testament, while four are from the New ; they are well known under the name of
            Raphael’s Bible. There has been keen controversy as to his share in the entire
            work. Vasari states that “Raphael made the drawings for the stucco
            ornamentation, and for the pictures, which were to be painted in the Loggie;
            Giovanni da Udine he set over the stucco work and the grotesques, and Giulio
            Romano over the figures, although the latter did little thereto. Besides them,
            Giovanni Francesco Penni, Tommaso Vincidor of Bologna, Perino del Vaga,
            Pellegrino da Modena, Vicenzio da San Gimignano, Polidoro da Caravaggio, and
            many others painted these figures, pictures, and other objects”. Although the
            execution is here ascribed entirely to his pupils, Raphael's designs are
            pronounced by Vasari to be the basis of their compositions, and with this the
            testimony of Michiel, as well as that of the connoisseur Castiglione, is in
            agreement.
             A critical examination of the sketches
            relating to the pictures in the Loggie certainly gives the result that of the
            great number of these drawings none are by Raphael, and, with the exception of
            the original sketch preserved in the Uffizi, of Penni’s “Joseph cast into the
            Well by his Brethren”, none belong to his pupils. They are evidently all copies
            made at a later date from the frescoes which had already become famous. The
            attempt to establish from the frescoes themselves the hand of the original
            artist meets with the greatest difficulties, many having been restored and
            others being in such bad preservation that only a close examination of the
            forms could lead to further results. The outcome of these investigations is
            that the paintings of the first nine domes are, with the exception of the
            landscapes and animal studies of Giovanni da Udine, to be attributed to Penni,
            those of the last four to other artists, especially Perino del Vaga. Raphael,
            according to this view, only contributed “the most general ideas for the
            compositions”, and his share in the entire decoration of the Loggie only
            amounted to this, that he laid before Giovanni da Udine the general plan, and
            gave his approval to the details as they were brought before him. Against such
            an hypothesis weighty objections have been urged. Among other questions it has
            been asked: “How, if Giovanni da Udine worked from his own plan and in entire
            independence, are we to explain Raphael's relation to the Pope, who had
            committed the undertaking to him? In a work begun in his own name, and for
            which he had received payment, he must at least have had some personal concern”.
            Nor are there wanting investigators at the present day who still uphold the old
            view that Raphael's participation, at least in the designs for the Loggie
            decorations, was very thorough. As regards the pictures on the ceilings in
            particular, they are convinced that certainly those in the first eight arcades
            are the genuine work of the master, but also that his share in the pictures of
            the remaining arcades, up to the tenth, was predominant even in matters of
            detail. That the execution of the frescoes was carried out by his pupils,
            admits of no doubt ; we must forget the harsh colouring, the brick-red flesh
            tints, the crude combination of colours, in order to enjoy the beauty of the
            original drawing.
             The bright little
            pictures in the cupolas of the Loggie are in an essentially different style
            from the colossal and solemn illustrations of holy writ with which Michael
            Angelo has adorned the roof of the Sixtine Chapel. At the same time many of the
            former show Michael Angelo's influence. No one could escape the spell of this
            Titan of the Renaissance. The picture of the Creation in the first, and that of
            the Flood in the third arcade are borrowed directly from Michael Angelo. The
            Banishment from Paradise in the second arcade is simply a replica of Masaccio's
            unequalled rendering of that subject. The lovely landscape in the Jacob and
            Rachel at the Well is a copy from a copper-plate of Dürer, and the Adam of the
            Fall of an antique figure. At the same time the Loggie display very many
            representations of the highest originality. The lives of the Patriarchs,
            Abraham prostrate before the Three Angels, Jacob and Rachel at the Well, the
            Finding of Moses, Joseph interpreting his Dreams are compositions
              which stand alone in their attractive beauty and deep poetry. They are
              thoroughly human and yet highly idealized. It is matter for ever-renewed wonder
              that, by means of a few figures, the narrative should be here portrayed with
              such entire simplicity and at the same time with such fidelity to life. Raphael
              must certainly have greatly influenced these remarkable com positions. On the
              other hand, the touch of Giovanni da Udine is perceptible throughout the
              landscape backgrounds with their sunlight charm ; they enhance to no small
              degree the idyllic tone of these pictures ; this is in harmony both with the
              character of the biblical stories and with the aim of the compositions which
              are intended to form only one part of the scheme of decoration.
                 The first eight arcades
            have a distinctly different character from the others. In the ninth, certainly,
            we still find the magnificent Delivery of the Tables of the Law by Moses. But,
            on the whole, the importance of the pictures begins, at this point, to
            diminish. The hitherto idyllic character gives place to one that is more
            dramatic and in keeping with the subjects ; the colouring is also brighter and
            more vivid. The least successful pictures are in the last or thirteenth arcade,
            on which the pupils were left to work by themselves. Here the New Testament
            subjects begin, which were interrupted on the death of Leo X.
             In the decorative treatment of the Loggie
            Raphael took no great part. Even if glimpses of his genius often
              break out in this costly series of decorations, yet the inspiring mind, on the
              whole, must have been that of Giovanni da Udine, who had a band of assistants.
              Gifted with a rare sense of beauty and inexhaustible fancy, this artist has
              achieved, in the decoration of the Loggie, a work which is unsurpassed of its kind.
              Walls, pillars, and archways, and every inch of surface contain, with a
              classical economy of space, a decoration of gold relieved by colour or a fine
              white stucco composed by Giovanni da Udine of a mixture of marble and ground
              chalk. Perhaps the chief charm of these decorations, their magical play of
              iridescent colours, varied but harmonious, is now gone beyond recall, since the
              whole has suffered grievous damage from weather and from the rough hands of
              many a visitor. The groundwork of the scheme was
            undoubtedly the antique. In this respect the often-quoted statement of Vasari
            is incorrect, that the first Roman wall-decorations to be discovered were those
            in the so-called Baths of Titus, and that Giovanni da Udine was the first to
            copy them. Already, since the last quarter of the 15th century, the artists of
            the Renaissance knew and made use of the graceful designs in painting and
            stucco to be seen on the ceilings of the underground ancient buildings in Rome,
            which at the present day are pointed out as “grottoes”, from whence the term
            grotesque has been derived. It is to the credit of Giovanni da Udine that he
            gave a thoroughly original turn to this kind of decoration and brought it to a
            pitch of classical perfection. Taken as a whole, he has achieved his task in an
            entirely new and independent style. “The essential feature, the ascending
            series of decorations on the pillars, is wanting in the earlier antique
            examples.” A detailed description of this splendid outcome of the taste and
            sense of beauty of the Leonine age would be beyond the power of even the most
            skilful pen. The whole is like a book of fairy tales in colours and pictures, a
            dreamland of inimitable poesy—on all sides the most graceful figures and
            ornaments are lavished on the walls and pillars, yet without superfluity.
            Painting and stucco work follow each other in unending variety. Everywhere the
            eye falls on attractive and graceful pictures which are deftly and without
            effort adapted to the architectural or decorative scheme of the building.
             Although
            the artist had an absolutely free hand in the construction of the Loggie, he
            yet avoided everything trifling or capricious. The appearance of chance and irregularity
            in his work is illusory; as a matter of fact, everything is in harmony and
            proportion. The decoration of each beam has been carried out with the closest
            regard to symmetrical correspondence with its architectural surroundings. Even
            if the ground-plan is constructed on a consistent principle, yet in the
            selection of details there is ample freedom. The way in which Giovanni da Udine
            has here drawn upon nature, as well as antique art, is marvellous ; one feature
            surpasses another in beauty ; the beholder is puzzled where first to turn his
            eyes. No sooner does he seem to have exhausted his survey than some new detail
            comes to view which once more rivets his attention on this magical fairyland.
            The tender execution, the naturalistic feeling, the graceful facility, the
            inexhaustible wealth of artistic imagination and the extraordinary variety of
            subjects —a variety which is not satisfied with a few illustrations, but
            borrows from the whole compass of life's prolific resources—all this forms a
            wondrous combination. Plants in the greatest variety, fruits and animals
            alternate with imitations of antique sculpture, small landscapes with pleasing
            fancy figures, allegories with representations of actual life, such as the
            famous stucco medallions in the window-frame of the first arcade, in which the
            master is figured sitting and drawing while his pupils carry out his sketches. On
            the window arch of the third arcade the head of Leo X is also to be seen,
            while his name appears in many places in the same arcade and on all the windows
            of the back wall in a way that almost amounts to ostentation. The effect of the
            exceedingly beautiful garlands of flowers and fruits, which are repeated on the
            windows between the pillars of the back wall on a sky-blue ground with
            realistic accuracy, is brilliant.
             The decorations contain many allusions to
            the favourite pursuits of Leo X. Music is symbolized by many representations of
            instruments ; fishes, birds, and other animals recall the Pope’s passion for
            the chase; even the elephant is twice depicted. In between these are everywhere
            lovely designs in spirals, scrolls, and garlands. Humorous pieces, such as
            winged infants in swaddling bands, cupids teaching a bear to dance, are to be
            found, no less than reminiscences of contemporary works of art, such as Raphael’s
            Jonas. Nor are Christian emblems wanting in this motley scene, although they
            almost disappear amid the copious array of imagery drawn directly from ancient
            sources or conceived in their spirit. The greater portion of classical
            antiquity here awakes again to life : we see the Victory of Trajan's Column,
            the Apollo Belvedere, the Venus Victrix, Jupiter, Bacchus and Ariadne, Apollo
            and Marsyas, Diana of Ephesus, Medaea on her Dragon Car, Aegistheus and
            Orestes, sphinxes, centaurs, satyrs, the Three Graces, dancing girls, minstrel
            maidens beating tambourines, nymphs, heroes, harpies, cupids at play, Tritons
            joining battle with seamonsters, sacrificial rites, augurs taking auspices,
            ruins and temples half gone to decay, the Appian Way, the Tomb of Cecilia
            Metella, the Walls of Rome.
             The partiality of Leo X for ancient art has
            been made matter of heavy censure ; even the paintings of “Raphael's Bible”
            have been described as an insincere performance, the subjects represented
            having long lost their religious significance. Such a verdict is unjust both to
            the character of the Renaissance and to the personal views of Leo X. If we
            consider the purpose which the Loggie were intended to serve, there is nothing
            incongruous in the introduction of subjects drawn from the ancient world. The
            robust Julius II. found his recreation in the gardens of the Belvedere, adorned
            with the masterpieces of antiquity; Leo X, infirm and ailing, sought enjoyment
            in the contemplation of his collections in the sheltered enclosure of the
            Loggie. That Christian and heathen art should meet on peaceable terms, such as
            the Loggie bear witness to, caused not the slightest affront to anyone in that
            flowering time of humanism. Such an alliance had for long been a matter of
            daily occurrence in painting and sculpture as well as in poetry. If the opinion
            of a later age was less lenient, it must still be recalled to mind that the
            early Christians themselves, in the decorations of the Catacombs, took pleasure
            in works handed down to them from a yet older world. As a matter of fact, any
            unseemly representations in the decorations of the Loggie are quite isolated
            and unobtrusive. Even an uncompromising critic has justly remarked, in this
            connection, that the more closely the churches were shut against the lighter
            efforts of pagan imagination, the more widely might the doors of palaces be
            thrown open to receive them.
             Although the pagan type preponderates in the decorations of the Loggie, religious subjects are yet to be found there. On the pillars between the second and third arcade the expulsion from Paradise is represented on one relief, and on another the Pope bestowing his benediction. Along with the biblical pictures on the ceilings, the decorations, which in each arcade are carried out in duplicates of the same designs and patterns, several religious subjects are treated in harmony with the frescoes. Thus angels praying surround the pictures of the Creation and the Incarnation in the first and last arcade. Sometimes even the mythological designs contain thoughtful suggestions of the biblical pictures to which they are thus made subordinate. The bronze-tinted pictures on the brackets, executed by Perino del Vaga, are all taken from biblical subjects relating to the pictures on the cupolas. It is impossible therefore to assert that the decorations of the Loggie have not the slightest connection, -in spirit, with the scriptural paintings in the cupolas. On the contrary, we must suppose that, in accordance with the spirit of the age and with that of Raphael himself, there was a definite correspondence between the two. In the frescoes in the Stanze, the apartments of the head of Christendom, the painter has emphasized in an incomparable way the supremacy of the Church over the heathen world In the adjoining Loggie, destined to exhibit the noteworthy relics of antiquity, the same idea has been expressed with a lighter and more delicate touch ; above the beauties of ancient statuary with which the walls and pillars harmonize in their adornment, hover the scenes of higher import described in the sacred Scriptures. A similar work of decoration to that in the
            Loggie was carried out by Raphael's pupils, Perino del Vaga and Giovanni da
            Udine, on the ceiling of the great Papal Hall in the Borgia apartments. At the
            present day the visitor can still see in their radiant brightness the paintings
            and stucco work of both these artists. The former has here portrayed the starry
            firmament with allegorical features, while Giovanni da Udine executed the
            charming frame work consisting of white and gold stucco ornaments on a sky-blue
            background. The name and the armorial bearings of Leo X. appear everywhere ; in
            between, one reads with interest a series of inscriptions relating to the
            history of the Popes from Urban II to Martin V ; they are apparently all that
            remain to remind one of paintings that had a place here at some earlier date.
             The paintings of Raphael for the Hall of
            the Palefrenieri and the corridor leading to the Belvedere have perished. The
            former was entirely painted over by Taddeo Zucchero ; the corridor was
            destroyed under Clement VII.
             How Raphael was able, concurrently with all
            these tasks, to find time for the commissions of Cardinal Bibbiena, of Agostino
            Chigi, and for a long series of panel pictures, portraits, and religious
            subjects, remains a wonder ; it is certain that he made large demands on the
            assistance of his pupils. In the famous picture of Leo X itself, the head and
            hands only can be set down to the master. It is undeniable that his pupils took
            a large share not only in the execution but in the sketch of the two great
            pictures, the Holy Family and the Archangel St. Michael, which Lorenzo de'
            Medici presented in 1518 to the French royal family. On the other hand, he
            produced single-handed the great altar-piece of the Sixtine Madonna, and the
            sketch of the Transfiguration, in which he has celebrated, with wondrous art,
            mysteries of the Christian faith. Both these immortal works, which rank among
            the most beautiful pictures on earth, reveal the touch of a visionary. Already
            in the Madonna di Foligno, in the Ezekiel, and the St. Cecilia this note had
            been struck, but here it reaches the highest pitch.
             The Sixtine Madonna, intended for the
            Benedictine Church of San Sisto in Piacenza, was probably con temporaneous with
            the tapestry cartoons. Wonder is there glorified, and, like a marvellous
            apparition, the Queen of Heaven soars above the clouds, unapproachable in her
            majesty, holding her Divine Child in her arms, amid the splendour of an aureole
            formed of thousands of angel heads ; on either side kneel St. Barbara and the
            aged Pope Sixtus, while below, rounding off the composition, is the famous
            group of angels. Few indeed are the works of art from the hand of man in which
            there dwells such sublimity and unearthly consecration ; among all the pictures
            of Mary, none is so widely known, be it in palace or in cottage. Painters of
            the first rank have attempted to reproduce the beauties of this incomparable
            creation. This one picture has given rise to a copious literature, so
            inexhaustible are the points of view which it presents. It is one of the few
            sacred pictures which bring home to the beholder at once, as if by some
            miraculous power, the conviction of supernatural truths surpassing human
            understanding. As he looks he is drawn towards another and a higher world, and
            he is forced to acknowledge, with humility, the reality of eternal things. The
            attitude of Pope Sixtus and of St. Barbara expresses this in the most forcible
            way. The Pope has laid aside his triple crown, and bends the knee in worship to
            the Queen of Heaven, while he commends to her the company of the faithful on
            earth. St. Barbara in her lowliness durst not raise her eyes. In her
            blessedness she reverences the Mother of God, who, despite her exceeding glory,
            appears only as the guardian of the Eternal Child, who came in poverty and
            nakedness into the world.
             On this canvas Raphael has surpassed himself; the mother of our Lord, encompassed by light and descending from the heights of heaven, seems indeed to manifest to mankind the great mystery of the Eternal Word made flesh. The supernatural impression which permeates the whole picture is produced above all by the movement of the principal figure, who seems to be descending from heaven to earth, and by the expression which beams from her radiant eyes, and from those of her Son, and cannot be adequately conveyed by any verbal description. The gaze of Mary passes far beyond the spectator into a world of deep contemplation and wonder ; before her, one by one, the secrets of the coming ages seem to be unrolled. “Pondering all these things in her heart”, she broods over the prediction of the aged Simeon, that her Son would be the “light of the Gentiles, the glory of his own people, set for the fall and resurrection of many ; a sign that should be contradicted” (Luke II. 19, 32-35). Simeon’s prophecy that the heart of the Mother of God should be burdened with heavy sorrows —"and a sword shall pierce thine heart also”—has been indicated by Raphael in the unmistakable expression of sorrow imprinted on the countenance of Mary. The countenance of the Child also is one of deep thought, but not of wonder. In all the consciousness of His Godhead, the divine Babe, whose form and features, especially the eyes, surpass mortal proportions, gazes fixedly and peacefully into infinite depths. He does not sit, He is enthroned in His mother’s arms, who displays to the world, with reverence and awe, the great gift committed to her charge; and yet the vision is not for long, for at any moment this picture “from the heights of heaven” may vanish thither again. The representation of an actual vision was Raphael's last creation. This was the picture of Christ's Trans figuration on Mount Tabor, ordered by Cardinal Medici for his cathedral church at Narbonne. On the mountain top the Saviour hovers in a blaze of divine glory, sur rounded by a white and dazzling brightness like an apparition of light : “his face did shine like the sun, and his garments became white as snow” (Matt. XVII. 2). Seldom has the difficulty of depicting the spontaneous upward flight of a human body been solved so beautifully and naturally as here. On this figure of Christ Raphael has concentrated the whole force of his manifold powers ; every chord of his artist's soul vibrates in one full harmony. Unspeakable gentleness and majesty, such as the glorified Mediator between God and man alone could possess, are written on the countenance, which is slightly turned to one side. The eyes and arms are uplifted to heaven as if expressing the unappeasable longing for that return to the Father's house which He can only earn as the reward of His Passion. On a somewhat lower level but beside Him hover, in attitudes of deepest awe, Moses the Lawgiver, clasping the two Tables to his breast, and Elias, the most glorious of the Prophets, holding the book of his prophecies ; drawn to the Saviour as by a magnet, circling like planets round their sun, they yet approach only to the edge of the radiance which encompasses the transfigured One. The Lord is the source of light as of power. He alone, as the light-giver, is clad in raiment of snowy whiteness ; the garments of the Lawgiver and the Prophet are suffused with hues of yellow and violet. The glory of Moses and Elias is borrowed from the divine light. The chosen disciples, Peter, James, and John, have, on the other hand, sunk down dazed and terror-stricken on the level of the mountain summit ; on the left kneel two martyr deacons, figures of smaller stature than the disciples ; these again are less than Moses and Elias. While exalted above space and time, the Redeemer, as He rises towards heaven looms in yet vaster proportions. At the foot of the mountain
            is enacted the episode of the lunatic boy whom the disciples were unable to
            heal, a scene which St. Matthew (XVII. 14 seq.) connects with the
            Transfiguration. The contrast is the strongest conceivable, and is all the
            more sharply felt as this part of the picture was executed by Giulio Romano,
            not to the advantage of the whole. Round the wretched boy in his convulsions
            have gathered his relations and the disciples; many of these figures directly
            recall Leonardo da Vinci. Their expressions and gestures reflect compassion,
            astonishment, distraction, helplessness, doubt; but amid the general confusion
            some of the disciples are pointing up to the mountain whither He has betaken
            Himself who alone can bring help. In accordance with the painter’s intention,
            these see the transfigured Jesus just as little as the rest of the crowd below.
            He is only visible to the beholder of the picture, and thus the spiritual unity
            is restored. Below are the miseries and sorrows of the helpless children of
            earth ; above, the undisturbed blessedness of the transfigured Lord, the
            Almighty Power which alone can heal and succour.
                 Such a reference to Christ as the deliverer from every, even the greatest necessity, was, at the time when this mystic creation of Raphael was finished, eminently appropriate to existing circumstances. The reports of the encroachments of the infidels had not for long been so alarming, so that in the autumn of 1517 the Turkish question stood in the forefront of public interest at Rome. “The Pope”, wrote Cardinal Medici, who had commissioned the Transfiguration, at the end of October to the Nuncio in Venice, “is occupied with Eastern affairs at the present moment more than with any other matters”. Soon after this Leo addressed a detailed memorial to the chief princes of Christendom, who were to communicate to him their views on the war with the Turks. The deliberations which ensued were followed in the spring of 1518 by the proclamation of a general armistice throughout Christendom, and the decision to despatch Legates to arrange for a Crusade. At the same time a great procession with prayers took place in Rome, the Pope in person taking part in it. Raphael was a witness of this great religious demonstration, during which his friend Sadoleto delivered an oration which was greatly admired. The picture of the Transfiguration had a
            close connection with these efforts of the Roman See to promote the Crusade.
            Calixtus III, on the occasion of the great victory over the Turks at Belgrade,
            in 1456, had expressly commanded that the festival of the Transfiguration
            should henceforward be kept annually on the 6th of August throughout
            Christendom, in thanksgiving for this signal success. “The liturgical Feast of
            the Transfiguration was thus turned into the anniversary of the victory of
            Western Christendom over the Crescent, and the glory of Christ on Mount Tabor
            became a triumphal mystery as well as a token of the downfall of the Church’s
            hereditary foe”. This accounts for the intro duction of the two martyr deacons,
            by whom Felicissimus and Agapitus only can be meant—saints whose commemoration
            at the altar stands in close relationship to the Feast of the Transfiguration.
            This connection was in Raphael's days a matter of present recollection, so that
            no one at the Court of Leo X. could feel any doubt as to the real meaning of
            the painter ; it would inspire confidence and give believers the assurance that
            even amid the existing dangers the all-powerful aid of Christ would not fail
            them against the enemies of the Christian name. It was given to Raphael to
            finish only the upper half of the picture ; in the last week of March, 1520, he
            fell ill of one of the dangerous Roman fevers, and this rapidly consumed the
            forces which had been already weakened by labours beyond the common strength of
            man. On Good Friday (April 6) his soul passed to that other world of which he
            had por trayed transcendant glimpses in his pictures. At the head of his bier was
            placed his unfinished masterpiece, the Transfiguration.
             The impression caused by the almost sudden
            demise of one who had only reached his thirty-seventh year, and stood in the
            midway of his famous career, was intense ; he had just bought a site, in the Via
            Giulia, near the Church of S. Giovanni dei Fiorentini, for the construction of
            a new palace. The irreparable loss was associated in men's minds with the
            coincidence of an earthquake and the giving way of a part of the Loggie. “The
            grief at the Papal Court”, wrote Pandolfo Pico della Mirandola, “is all the
            deeper, since still greater works had been expected from the master ; nothing
            else is spoken about throughout Rome than the death of this remarkable man ;
            what is mortal of him has passed away, but his renown can never perish ; in his
            works, and in the admiration of those who survey them, he will live for ever.
            As a matter of fact, the most distinguished poets, Bembo, Ariosto, Tebaldeo,
            and above all the faithful Castiglione, soon became rivals in the celebration
            of his fame. The opinion was widespread that, had his life been spared longer,
            he would have reached the greatness of Michael Angelo. For his resting-place
            Raphael had chosen the Pantheon, and had entrusted his friend Lorenzetto with
            the execution of a statue of Our Lady, which to this day adorns the chapel, to
            surmount his tomb. The painter who, in his most remarkable creations, had done
            more than any other to adjust the difficult relations of antique and Christian
            art, and had in the Sixtine Madonna depicted the most lovely representation of
            Mary, could have chosen no more fitting grave than the ancient rotunda which
            Pope Boniface IV had transformed into the Church of S. Maria ad Martyres. The
            burial took place with every circumstance of honour. That the Pope took part in
            person is a later fable ; ceremonially such a mark of distinction was
            impossible. How greatly Leo sorrowed over the loss of his incomparable friend
            is clear from the testimony of Marcantonio Michiel, who relates how the Pope sent
            daily to inquire after Raphael, bestowed upon him many marks of his esteem, and
            defrayed all the expenses of the funeral.
             The extraordinary partiality evinced by Leo
            X. for Raphael and his school had the effect of retarding all other artistic
            tendencies. Many as were the painters, marked out for distinction, who came to
            Rome during this Pontificate, not one could secure a footing by the side of
            Raphael. The most regrettable instance in this respect is that of the painter
            who, in his Last Supper, had initiated in its most ideal form the age of the
            high Renaissance. As a young man of six-and-twenty, Leonardo da Vinci, with
            some of his pupils, had come to Rome in the train of Giuliano de' Medici in the
            autumn of 1513. The Pope had conferred on him the marked distinction of placing
            at his disposal an apartment in the Belvedere ; but with the exception of two
            pictures ordered by Baldassare Turini, Leonardo has left no trace of his art in
            Rome. Until 1515 he remained in the service of Giuliano de' Medici, who allowed
            him the handsome salary of thirty-three gold ducats a month ; but at the end of
            1 5 1 5 he passed into the service of Francis I. What prevented his being
            attached permanently to Leo X, for whom he wrote a treatise on coinage, has not
            yet been explained. Vasari's account is nothing more than an anecdote of the
            studios. According to this narrative, Leonardo had once received an order to
            execute for the Pope, but instead of beginning the work, he had spent his time
            on technical experiments which led to nothing. Thereupon the Pope had remarked
            that Leonardo would never complete anything, as he busied himself with the end
            before he took thought for the beginning. It is much more probable that
            Leonardo, who had also found no employment under Julius II, left Rome on
            account of unwillingness to be in the same city with Michael Angelo.
             In the year 1514 Fra Bartolommeo came to
            Rome, attracted by the fame of the works of Raphael and Michael Angelo. Fra
            Mariano received him hospitably. At the request of the latter he began the
            pictures of St. Peter and St. Paul, but after a few months returned to
            Florence. In the same year also Soddoma appeared in Rome, where he executed for
            Agostino Chigi, on the first story of the Farnesina, the Wedding of Alexander
            and Roxana and the Family of Darius before Alexander. Chigi recommended the
            painter to the Pope ; to the latter he presented the Death of Lucretia, a
            picture which some modern investigators have claimed to have rediscovered in
            the Museum in Turin, and others in that of Hanover. Leo X bestowed on him in
            return the honour of knight hood, but Soddoma found as little occupation in the
            Papal service as Signorelli, who was then in Rome seeking his fortune without
            success. J Andrea del Sarto, Franciabigio, and Pontormo were engaged, according
            to the accounts of Giovio, in decorating the principal hall in the Villa Poggio
            at Cajano, near Florence, with historical allegorical subjects from Roman
            history, which still exist.
             Even Sebastiano del Piombo, the enthusiastic admirer of Michael Angelo, did not succeed in securing the patronage of Leo X. Although, in his consuming envy, he left no effort untried to belittle Raphael, his sphere of work never extended beyond private circles ; the Pope, to whom the petty dissensions between the partisans of Michael Angelo and those of Raphael were in the highest degree displeasing, remained loyal to the latter. The first-rate paintings which Sebastiano executed in S. Pietro in Montorio were certainly the reason why no less a personage than Cardinal Giulio de' Medici entrusted him with an honourable task. Raphael was invited to paint the Transfiguration at the same time that Piombino was set to work on the Raising of Lazarus. It is easy to imagine with what eagerness the latter seized the opportunity of measuring himself against his hated rival. “My work”, he wrote to Michael Angelo on the 2nd of July, 1518, “has been delayed in order that Raphael may not see it until his own is ready”. At the end of 1519 Sebastiano sent his painting, which once adorned Cardinal Giulio’s archiepiscopal cathedral at Narbonne, and is now one of the ornaments of the National Gallery in London, to the Vatican. “It has at once given satisfaction instead of dissatisfaction to everyone, with the exception of the wiseacres who do not as yet know what they ought to say”, wrote Sebastiano at that time to Michael Angelo. “I am satisfied, since Cardinal Medici has told me that he has been delighted beyond expectation, and I believe that my picture is better drawn than this tapestry stuff which has come from Flanders”. Leonardo Sallajo believed himself justified in writing to Michael Angelo : “Sebastiano has had such a success with his work that those who know anything about the matter here place him far above Raphael. The ceiling in Agostino Chigi's house is now uncovered ; it is a dis grace to a great master, and much worse than the last Stanze in the Vatican. Sebastiano is now relieved from further fear.” Since Raphael’s death took
            place while the Transfiguration was yet unfinished, Sebastiano’s hopes rose
            still higher. Now, he believed, the opportunity had come to secure the position
            of first painter at the Papal Court. His chief ambition was to be entrusted
            with the decoration of the Hall of Constantine, on which Giulio Romano and
            Penni had by that time already begun their work; Michael Angelo used all his
            influence, to this end, with Cardinal Bibbiena. In his letter of introduction,
            written in June, 1520, he says: “I beg your highness, not as a friend or
            servant, since neither my friendship nor my service are worthy of you, but as a
            good-for-nothing crazy wretch, that you will exert yourself to procure for the
            Venetian painter Sebastiano, now that Raphael is dead, some share in the works
            at the Vatican. And even if your highness feels ashamed at conferring an
            obligation on a man of my stamp, yet I think that a kindness done even to a
            good-for-nothing can give a certain amount of pleasure, just as the palate
            which has been accustomed to capons can yet relish the taste of onions.”  The result of this singular recommendation
            was that Sebastiano was given the work of painting the “ lower hall ” in the
            Appartamento Borgia, where Perino del Vaga and Giovanni da Udine were at work.
            Such, however, was the infatuation of his artistic conceit, that he declined to
            paint a “cellar” while Raphael’s pupils were permitted to adorn the “treasure
            chambers.” Nevertheless he persisted in his endeavours, and at last Leo X granted
            him an audience. Of this he
              has given a description in a letter written on the 15th of October, 1520, to
              Michael Angelo, which from more than one point of view is exceedingly
              interesting. It gives us a better idea than any other document could do, of the
              way in which Leo used to treat his artists.
               “His Holiness”, he says here, “was very
            much pleased that I should be ready, along with you, to undertake any kind of
            service which he wished ; I asked him about the subjects and the measurements
            and all the rest. His Holiness answered me as follows: Bastiano, Juan del
            Aquila has told me that in the lower hall no good work can be done except on
            the ceiling, which you have finished, since where the cornice juts out there
            are certain lunettes which reach almost to the middle of the surface wall on
            which the pictures are intended to go. And then there are also the doors giving
            access to the rooms of Monsignor de' Medici. So that it is impossible to have a
            picture on each wall as there ought to be. There might, however, be a picture
            in each lunette, since the latter are 18 or 20 palms wide, and they could have
            the required height given to them. For all that, in such a huge chamber these
            pictures would look too small.' And further, His Holiness said to me that this
            hall was too open to the public. Afterwards he remarked : Bastiano, on my conscience,
            I am not pleased with the work these men are now engaged on, and no one who has
            seen it has expressed approval. In four or five days I will make a personal
            inspection, and if I find that they have not gone on better than they have
            begun, I will see to it that their work is discontinued. I will find something
            else for them to do, remove what they have already done, and then hand over the
            whole place to you, as it is my intention to make a fine work of it, or I will
            leave it to them to paint it over with damask patterns.' I replied that, with
            your assistance, I was confident we could work wonders there. Whereupon he
            rejoined : I have no doubt about that ; for all of you have learned everything
            from him. And, upon my word of honour and between ourselves, His Holiness went
            on to say: Look at Raphael’s paintings. As soon as he saw Michael Angelo’s work
            he suddenly dropped the style of Perugino, and followed Michael Angelo as
            closely as he could ; but the latter is an alarming man, as you yourself see, and
            there is no getting on with him.' Upon which I told His Holiness that your
            alarming ways did no man any harm, and that it was only your devotion to the
            great work to which you had given yourself that made you seem terrible to
            others”.
             Whether this conversation was really as
            flattering to Sebastiano as he makes out, must remain undecided. As a matter of
            fact the whole plan fell through, an issue to which a refusal to collaborate on
            the part of the ill-conditioned Michael Angelo contributed in no small degree.
            The Hall of Constantine remained in the hands of Raphael’s pupils. By this
            arrangement the Vatican was perhaps deprived of a fine work of art, yet the
            Pope’s loyal attachment to the pupils of the departed master leaves a very
            agreeable impression.
             
             
 
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