the first time in the history of architecture, the spiritual element predominates over the material.

Here, again, we have an instance of the value of architectural remains in illustrating the tendencies of the people from whom they emanate. The religion of Egypt was a gloomy mysticism; the nations of the East, with their luxury, the Greeks, with their refined beauty, the Romans, with their vigorous and comprehensive sense of utility, were all essentially material. In the Gothic architecture, with its pointed arch, its heavy shadows and tapering spire, we discern the spiritual tendency of the northern nations. Instead of delineating the finite, the Gothic temple suggests the infinite. It makes no pretension to the perfection of Grecian art-it is full of faults, contradictions, and difficulties, which the utmost skill of the architeet has been unable to surmount; but in its very imperfections it seems to express the constant striving after the unattainable, which renders it the fitting architectural type of the faith which has adopted it as its exponent

The Gothic, as a distinct style of architecture, terminated in 1387 with the cathedral at Milan. From that period, gradually blending with the old Roman forms, it developed into the Italian, of which the principal type is found in the great church of St. Peter's. The cruciform ground-plan and the rich tracery of the Gothic style are retained, but the column and circular arch of the Basilica has in general superseded the springing or pointed arch, and successive stories of windows, with string courses and mouldings, replace the long unbroken lines of the earlier cathedrals. But the distinguishing characteristic of this style of architecture is the cupolathe realization of a problem which for a long time perplexed the architect who had tried in vain to unite the four sections of a cathedral of unusual size (Santa Maria del Fiore, at Florence), under the usual coverings of an Etruscan dome or a pointed Gothic roof. It was Brunalleschi, a Florentine architect, who solved the problem,* by combining the circular base of the dome

* Gwilt, p. 132.

with the arch formed by the intersection of concentric circles, which was the underlying principle of Gothic architecture. The result was the cupola; a covering which rendered possible the construction of those immense cathedrals which had till then been considered impossible.

The Renaissance, which produced the architectural discoveries whose results are seen in the monster cupolas by which modern Rome is recognized afar off, was also the parent of a system of domestic and palatial architecture which has gradually extended itself over Europe. The palaces of Rome have well been characterized as among the finest architectural works extant. From this style are derived the successive tiers of windows connected by string courses or balconies, and surmounted by a projecting cornice, which has been found so useful and so adaptable in modern building. Yet this school of architecture, with all its grace and beauty, is but a combination of various antique styles, which the classic architects would undoubtedly have rejected as incongruous. In the Farnese Palace the windows of the second story are flanked by columns whose entablatures are crowned alternately with triangular pediments and Etruscan arches; in the third story are circular-headed windows, crowned with triangular pediments; the loggia is an Etruscan arch, flanked by Grecian columns.* Yet this commingling of styles in the façade of an extensive building is productive of a singularly graceful effect, and has furnished models for much of the street architecture of the present day. To what may be strictly called street architecture-the blending of a succession of independent buildings into one harmonious whole-this style is peculiarly adapted; and street architecture being pre-eminently the architecture of the present day, the favor which the Italian style has acquired is not surprising.

The Farnese Palace, the Church of St. Peter, and the class of buildings commonly known as Renaissance, belong to what is called the Roman branch of this department of

Gwilt, p. 143.

architecture. In the Florentine we recognize still more distinctly the influence of the Etruscan model. Here were found used in the construction of buildings the same large blocks of stone, the same heavy circular arches, and the same absence of ornamentation in the façade; a want which in the Florentine palaces is supplied by the stupendous cornices which impart grandeur to the structure. The general effect produced is that of solidity, monotony, and solemnity.* The absence of ornamentation and the great solidity of construction in the lower stories may perhaps be attributed also to the political condition of Florence in the middle ages, when insurrections were of constant occurrence and the aristocratic families were constantly liable to be besieged in their palaces, which were therefore required to be miniature fortresses. These are the characteristics of the Sforza, Pandolfini, and Pitti palaces at Florence, and of the Piccolomini palace at Sienna.†

While the school of Florence is characterized by solidity and monotony, that of Venice is distinguished for lightness and elegance. The prominent feature of this style, the basement, usually of massive construction, and with little ornament save what is called rustic work, supporting a façade proper of highly ornamental character, but commencing at what in Florentine and Roman buildings would have been called the second story, appears the natural result of the plan of the city; rising from the waters, its streets canals, the lower stories of its palaces would be of little use except for water-fronts and offices, and would hardly be conspicuous except from the gondolas, while the upper stories would naturally constitute the living parts of the edifices, and be principally relied upon for architectural effect. A colonnade raised over the basement is the usual substitute for a balcony, and for this reason, or perhaps from the early intercourse of Venice with Greece, the Grecian element is far more conspicuous than in the other Italian schools.

The republican, or rather aristocratic element, in the institu

tions of the Italian government is evidenced in the large number of palaces with which the cities are adorned. Where numerous individuals, wealthy and powerful, but with more individual or family pride than public spirit or patriotism, desired to perpetuate their names by means of their habitations, palaces and luxurious dwellings would arise on every hand; while the grand or monumental works (except such as were prompted by religion or superstition) would be comparatively few. This is the case in Florence and in Venice; while Rome, where the quasi-monarchial government of the Papacy is blended with the aristocratic element, is as eminent for her vast public buildings as for her private structures.

It is to Italy, and to a long period of indirect Italian government, that France is principally indebted for her architectural triumphs. Prior to the sixteenth century, although France could boast numerous Gothic cathedrals of almost unexampled magnificence, the palatial architecture, of which we have remains, was, as a rule, heavy and barbarous, suggestive of the desolating wars of France and Burgundy and the feudal ages, when the principal object of every structure was defence. The wars in Italy, under Charles VIII., Louis XII., and Francis I., familiarized the French with the architecture of Italy, and the last-named introduced a number of Italian artists into France, whose influence was speedily perceptible in the architecture of Paris. But it was under the succeeding reigns that the influence of Italy was most powerfully exerted ; the sixteenth and the first part of the seventeenth centuries saw France under an almost unbroken succession of rulers of Italian blood. Catherine de Medicis, despite the perfidy and cruelty which have associated her name with tyranny and crime, was in her feeling for art a true daughter of the distinguished house to which she belonged. It must be remembered that Catherine's influence in France was not limited to the period of her actual regency. During the reigns of her sons Francis II., Charles IX., and Henri III., she was to the day of her death the

*Gwilt, p. 152.

actual sovereign of France. To her patronage is Paris indebted for the designs of the Tuileries and the Halle au Bleds, and the architectural production of Philibert Delorme, who may be justly styled the father of French architecture, and of whom Chambrai remarked: "Qu'il avait vu les plus belles choses de Rome avec des yeux encore préoccupés du style Gothique." This probably unconscious modification of Italian styles by Gothic instincts is the key to the principles of French architecture. The second wife of Henri IV., in whose time the principal edifices of that reign were constructed, was likewise a daughter of the house of Medicis; and at her instance Jacques de Brosse designed the Luxembourg, on the model of the palaces of her native city.† During her regency and the reign of her son, Louis XIII., a similar Italian taste controlled the French Architects. With the regency of Anne of Austria, a Spanish princess, a change in the national taste might have been expected; but her prime minister and favorite, the Cardinal Mazarin, was likewise an Italian; and although the wars of the Fronde and the general disturbances of the regency, as well as the avarice of the prime minister, in some degree arrested the embellishment of the city, the taste of the people was not materially altered.

Louis XIV. lost no opportunity of adorning Paris with costly structures, but his taste led him to patronize the corrupt schools of Boromini and Bernini, and he actually induced the latter to visit France for the purpose of designing the palace of the Louvre. Bernini, however, abandoned Paris in disgust, and the Louvre was really designed by Perrault,‡ who substituted for the heavy style then in vogue the light and graceful forms of the Venetian school. The combination of the Grecian and Roman forms which the Venetian style admits, is in this instance rendered peculiarly beautiful by the erection of a sculptured pediment over the centre of the Colonnade; and the Louvre, with all its defects, presents one of the most splendid façades which Europe can boast.