The history of the popes, from the close of the middle ages

VOLUME II. BOOK II.

NICHOLAS V AS PATRON OF THE RENAISSANCE IN ART AND LITERATURE.—RESTORATIONS AND NEW BUILDINGS IN ROME AND THE STATES OF THE CHURCH. —ALBERTI.—FRA ANGELICO DA FIESOLE.— ROME, THE COURT OF THE MUSES.—FOUNDING OF THE VATICAN LIBRARY.

 

CHAPTER I.

PATRONAGE OF THE RENAISSANCE IN ART.

 

For the history of the world, the true significance of the reign of Pope Nicholas V is not to be found in the political and ecclesiastical events that we have hitherto been recording. Full of confidence in the vitality and force of the Christian idea, this highly cultured Pontiff ventured to place himself at the head of the Renaissance both in art and in literature; and it is in this that the real importance of his Pontificate consists. In thus lending the resources and authority of the Holy See for the promotion of learning and art, he inaugurated a new era both in the history of the Papacy and in that of culture.

In the learned and literary world the elevation of the poor professor of Sarzana was greeted with exultation. All who had ever come in contact with the new Pope were aware of his ardent love for learning and for the ideal in all its forms. “He would wish”, he once said, “to spend all he possessed on books and buildings”. Francesco Barbaro, like Nicholas, a votary of the Christian Renaissance, in his graceful congratulatory letter, quoting Plato, counts the world happy, since now the wise are becoming its rulers, or its rulers are becoming wise. All eyes turned hopefully towards Nicholas, expecting the dawn of a new era, and these hopes were not disappointed. Hitherto he had had nothing but his health and his time to offer to the cause of learning; now it soon became evident that the Pope was resolved to devote all his means and his influence to its service.

Nicholas’s plan was to make Rome, the centre of the Church, a focus of literature and art, a city of splendid monuments, possessing the finest library in the world, and in so doing to secure in the Eternal City an abiding home for the Papacy.

It is of essential importance that the Pope’s motives in this undertaking should be rightly appreciated. He has himself declared them in the Latin speech which, on his death-bed, he addressed to the assembled Cardinals. This speech, preserved by his biographer Manetti, is the expression of his last wishes, and explains the guiding principle of all his actions and the end at which he aimed.

“Only the learned”, says the Pope, “who have studied the origin and development of the authority of the Roman Church, can really understand its greatness. Thus, to create solid and stable convictions in the minds of the uncultured masses, there must be something that appeals to the eye; a popular faith, sustained only on doctrines, will never be anything but feeble and vacillating. But if the authority of the Holy See were visibly displayed in majestic buildings, imperishable memorials and wit­nesses seemingly planted by the hand of God Himself, belief would grow and strengthen like a tradition from one generation to another, and all the world would accept and revere it. Noble edifices combining taste and beauty with imposing proportions would immensely conduce to the exaltation of the chair of St. Peter”. The learned Pope fully realized what an important influence the visible presence and past memories of the Capitol had exercised on the history of the Roman people.

The fortifications erected in Rome and in the Papal States were intended, the Pope explains, to serve as defenses against both external and internal enemies. If his predecessors had protected themselves in a similar manner, against the Romans more especially, they would have been spared much tribulation. “If”, said Nicholas, “We had been able to accomplish all that We wished, our successors would find themselves more respected by all Christian nations, and would be able to dwell in Rome with greater security both from external and internal foes. Thus it is not out of ostentation, or ambition, or a vain-glorious desire of immortalizing Our name, that We have conceived and commenced all these great works, but for the exaltation of the power of the Holy See throughout Christendom, and in order that future Popes should no longer be in danger of being driven away, taken prisoners, besieged, and otherwise oppressed”.

It has been asserted that love of fame was the ruling motive which guided Nicholas in all his actions, and that this is the true explanation of the splendor of his court, his buildings, his libraries, his liberality towards learned men and artists. It is evident from these words, spoken on the brink of eternity, that this assertion is false. A man, to whose detestation of all untruthfulness and hypocrisy both friends and foes alike bear witness, would not have lied thus upon his death-bed. No doubt Nicholas may not have been wholly insensible at all times to the seductions of fame, but a selfish desire for his own glory was never with him the first motive. This has been admitted even by some who heartily detest the Papacy. “All that Nicholas undertook”, writes one, “was directed towards the exaltation of the Holy See; the one object of his ambition was to increase its dignity and authority by the visible splendor of its monuments, and the intellectual influence it would exert, by making it the centre of the learning of the world”.'

The great architectural undertakings which the Pope thus justified partly on practical and partly on ideal grounds consisted of new buildings and of restorations. In the latter he only continued the works begun by his two immediate predecessors, to repair the neglect which had wrought such havoc in the city during the absence of the Popes at Avignon, and the disastrous period of the schism. But in the former he struck out wholly new paths.

Manetti, enumerating all the Pope’s undertakings with the minuteness of a loving biographer, zealous for the honor of his hero, classes them under three heads, according as they were intended for defense, for sanitation or embellishment, and finally for piety. “The Pope had five things at heart, all great and important works, to rebuild the city walls and restore the aqueducts and bridges; to repair the forty churches of the stations; to rebuild the Vatican Borgo, the Papal Palace, and the Church of St. Peter’s”. It has been justly remarked that the three last named projects are closely connected together and differ essentially from the two first. They are, in fact, the off­spring of the new era, conceived in the genuine spirit of the Renaissance, while the others do not depart from the traditional lines of the medieval Popes.

The restorations of Nicholas are very extensive and embraced an enormous number of buildings, both religious and secular. His first care was for the forty churches in which, during Lent, the stations were held. The little church of San. Teodoro, at the foot of the Palatine hill, was twice in the hands of his workmen. The interesting church of San. Stefano Rotondo, which had been seen by Flavio Biondo, in 1446, roofless, with its mosaics in ruins, and its marble slabs cracked and peeling from the walls, underwent a thorough renovation. By order of the Pope restorations of various kinds were executed in the churches of the Holy Apostles, San. Celso, Sta. Prassede, Sta. Maria in Trastevere, Sant. Eusebio, Sta. Maria Rotonda (the Pantheon). At the same time those already com­menced in the great Basilicas were continued, and new works begun. The restoration in the Churches of Sta. Maria Maggiore, San. Paolo, and San. Lorenzo fuori le mura were especially extensive and important. On the Capitol Nicholas rebuilt the palace of the Senators, and erected a new and beautiful edifice for the conservators. The papal palaces, adjoining the churches of Sta. Maria Maggiore and the Holy Apostles, were also restored.

One of this Pope’s greatest merits was the attention he bestowed on the water supply of the city. Nothing perhaps shows more plainly the state of decay in which Nicholas found it, than the fact that the majority of its inhabitants were dependent for water on the Tiber and the various wells and cisterns; the only aqueduct which, though out of repair, still remained serviceable was that of the Acqua Vergine. Nicholas restored this, and thus made habitable that part of the city which was more distant from the river. An ornamental fountain, to which the name of Trevi was given, was erected at the mouth of this aqueduct in 1453; it was probably designed by the famous Alberti.

Rome also owed to Nicholas much clearing away of ruins and masses of rubbish, which in many places had made the streets impassable, and he began to pave them and make them more regular. But his plans for improving and embellishing the city went much further than this. By his command Alberti had prepared designs for pavilions and colonnades, which were to be erected for protection from the sun on the bridge of St. Angelo and other exposed places in Rome. The reopening of the abandoned parts of the city also occupied his attention. Very soon after his election, on May 23rd, 1447, in order to check the growing desertion of the extensive district called de' Monti, he issued an edict granting special privileges to all who should build houses in that region. This enactment, which was confirmed a year later, was, however, not more successful in producing the desired effect than the earlier efforts of the magistrates, or those of Sixtus V, in later times. The district de' Monti is to this day, in proportion to its size, the most thinly peopled part of Rome.

With a just appreciation of the needs of the times, the indefatigable Pope also turned his attention to the improvement and protection of the approaches to the city. The wooden central arch of the Milvian Bridge (Ponte Molle) was replaced by a stone one; and at its entrance, on the right bank of the river, a strong tower was begun, which was finished by Calixtus III, whose arms, the ox of the Borgia, it bears. The other bridges in the neighborhood of Rome, such as Ponte Nomentano, Ponte Salaro, Ponte Lucano, were repaired and fortified. The bed of the Anio was cleared and made navigable, so that it could be utilized for the transport of the large stones from the Travertine quarries.

In 1451 the Pope’s apprehensions on the occasion of the visit of Frederick III hastened the restoration of the city walls, which in many places were in ruins. Along the whole boundary of the city proper, from the Flaminian gate by the river as far as the Ostian gate, we still trace the handiwork of Nicholas, whose name appears on the mural tablets more frequently than that of any other Pope.

But all this shrinks into utter insignificance when compared with his colossal designs for the rebuilding of the Leonine city, the Vatican, and the Church of St. Peter’s.

No part of Rome had suffered more than the Leonine city, which had always formed a separate town in itself. Eugenius IV had opened a road through the ruins and rubbish to the bridge, and had endeavored to attract inhabitants to it by remitting all taxes within its precincts for a period of twenty-five years. Nicholas proposed, in close connection with the plans for the new Vatican Palace and Church of St. Peter’s, to rebuild it altogether in the style of the Renaissance, and thus create a monumental residence for the Holy See.

Manetti’s minute description of this vast project transports the imagination of the reader to Eastern lands, where such vast palaces and temples are reared for the habitations of gods and kings.

The tomb of St. Peter, actually situated at the one extremity, was to be the ideal centre of this grandiose plan. The opposite extremity was to be formed by a large square in front of the Castle and Bridge of St. Angelo. From this square three straight and broad avenues were to start, and terminate in another vast open space at the foot of the Vatican hill; the central avenue was to lead to the Basilica, the one on the right to the Vatican Palace, that on the left to the buildings facing it. These streets were to be flanked with spacious colonnades to serve as a protection against sun and rain, and the lower stories of the houses were to be shops, the whole street being divided into sections, each section assigned to a separate craft or trade. The upper stories were to serve as dwelling-houses for the members of the Papal Court; architectural effect and salubrity were to be equally considered in their construction.

The principal square, into which these three streets were to run, and of which the right side was to be formed by the entrance to the Papal palace, and the left by the houses of the clergy, was to measure five hundred and fifty feet in length and two hundred and seventy-five in breadth. In its centre there was to be a group of colossal figures representing the four Evangelists, which was to support the obelisk of Nero; and this again was to be surmounted by a bronze statue of the Saviour, holding a golden cross in His right hand. “At the end of this square”, continues Manetti, “where the ground begins to rise, broad steps ascend to a high platform, with handsome belfry, adorned with splendid marbles, on the right hand and on the left. Between and behind these is a double portico having five portals, of which the three central ones correspond with the principal avenue coming from the bridge of St. Angelo, and the two side ones with the two other streets. This quasi-triumphal arch leads into a court surrounded with pillars and having a fountain in the centre, and finally through this into the church itself”.

All that the progress of art and science had achieved, in the way of beauty and magnificence, was to be displayed in the new St. Peter’s. The plan of the church was that of a Basilica with nave and double aisles, divided by pillars, and having a row of chapels along each of the outermost aisles. Its length was to be 640 feet, the breadth of the nave 320, the height of the dome inside 220; this was to be richly decorated, and the upper part of the wall was to be pierced with large circular windows, freely admitting the light. The high altar was to be placed at the intersection of the nave and transepts, and the Papal throne and the stalls for the Cardinals and the Court within the apse. The roof was to be of lead, the pavement of coloured marbles, and behind the church was to be a Campo Santo, where the Popes and prelates should be interred, “in order that a temple, so glorious and beautiful that it seemed rather a Divine than a human creation, should not be polluted by the presence of the dead”. An immense pile of buildings at the side was destined for the accommodation of the clergy.

The Papal city, which, by its natural site, was detached from the rest of Rome, was to be fortified in such a manner, says Manetti, that no living thing but a bird could get into it. The new Vatican was to be a citadel, but at the same time to contain all the elegance and splendor of a palace of the Renaissance. A magnificent triumphal arch was to adorn the entrance. The ground floor, with spacious halls, corridors, and pavilions, surrounding a garden traversed by cool rivulets and filled with fruit trees and flowers of all sorts, was to be the summer habitation. The first floor was to be furnished with all that was required to make winter agreeable; while the airy upper story was to serve as a spring and autumn residence. The Papal palace was also to include quarters for the College of Cardinals, accommodation for all the various offices and requirements of the Papal Court, a sumptuous hall for the coronations of the Popes and the reception of Emperors, Princes, and Ambassadors, suitable apartments for the Conclave, and for keeping the treasures of the Church, several chapels, and a magnificent library.

Some modern writers have looked upon this project as chimerical; it would, they say, have required the lifetime of twenty Popes and the treasures of a Rameses to carry it into execution. The contemporaries of Nicholas judged otherwise, and justly, for the Pope, at the time of his election, was only forty-nine; and with all the resources that he could have accumulated during his peaceful Pontificate, what might he not have accomplished if, instead of only lasting eight years, it had continued for fifteen or twenty! What he actually achieved during the short period granted him is amazing. Almost all the absolutely necessary restorations and an immense number of new buildings had already been completed when death overtook him, just at the moment when he would have been free to concentrate all his powers on the creation of the Papal city. At fifty-seven, life was not too far advanced to make the building of a new palace, or a church, even on a magnificent scale, or the rebuilding of a quarter of a city impossible tasks for a man who had talent, materials, arid money at his disposal in lavish profusion.

A modern writer of considerable acumen in regard to all that relates to the history of art has taken great pains to ascertain to whom the intellectual proprietorship of this vast architectural scheme, thus minutely described by Manetti, should be assigned. After a careful comparison between Manetti’s description and the doctrines laid down in Alberti’s work on architecture, he has come to the conclusion that the whole plan, not only in its general concep­tion, but also in all its details, can be ascribed to no other mind.

Matteo Palmieri, in his brief chronicles of the year 1452, says : “The Pope, wishing to build a more beautiful church in honor of St. Peter, had laid the foundations, and already carried the walls, (in the apse of the choir only), to a height of 309 feet; but this great work, in no wise inferior to that of olden times, was first interrupted by the advice of Leon Battista, and finally stopped altogether by the untimely death of the Pope. Leon Battista Alberti, a man of a most sagacious spirit, and well versed in all the arts and sciences, laid before the Pope his learned works on architecture”.

The above-named writer drew from these words an extremely probable conclusion. Nicholas had at first no intention of pulling down the venerable Cathedral of St. Peter’s. The works mentioned in his account books, such as the restoration of the portico, the repaving of the floor, renewing the mosaics, doors, and roof, and filling the windows with stained glass, manifest, on the contrary, that his object was to repair and secure the ancient sanctuary and preserve it as long as possible. It was only the choir that he purposed actually to rebuild. Then the great Alberti, the humanistic architect, appeared before the humanistic Pope, and presented to Nicholas his ten books on architecture, the compendium of all his science and all his aspirations. The impression produced was instantaneous, profound, convincing. A comparison between Palmieri’s statement, the testimony of the earlier account books, and Manetti’s description places the matter beyond doubt. Clearly the perusal of this book, further supported by the eloquence of its gifted author, was the turning point with Nicholas in his building plans. The earlier conservative designs were discarded “by Leon Battista’s advice”, and the new colossal scheme adopted.

The unsafe condition of the old Basilica, of which we shall speak presently, may have had an important influence on this decision. But before a single step had been taken towards the rebuilding of St. Peter’s, all was stopped by the premature death of the Pope. Later on, the project was resumed by Julius II, immediately upon his accession to the Papal throne, but on different designs.

To many the thought of pulling down this venerable temple, which had witnessed the rise and growth of the Papacy, and the first grasp of Christianity on the ancient world, was painful. In later times, also, the same sentiments have provoked some severe judgments on Nicholas for his action in this matter. But in the opinion of one who has carefully gone into its whole history, the rebuilding of St. Peter’s had become an absolute necessity. “It was”, he affirms, “only a question of sooner or later. Before fifty years were out this most interesting building must either have fallen of itself or else have been pulled down. From an architectural point of view the plan of the ancient Christian basilica is perhaps the most daring that exists. Its three upper walls, pierced with windows, rest on slender columns unsustained by buttresses or supports of any kind, and when once they have in any notable degree fallen out of the perpendicular, the case of the building is hopeless, it must be pulled down. This can easily be understood by anyone, and needs no special knowledge of the rules of architecture. Two unexceptional witnesses testify that this was the case with the old St. Peter’s. Leon Battista Alberti states that the southern wall leant outwards to the extent of three braccia (4ft. gin.), and he adds, “I am convinced that very soon some slight shock or movement will cause it to fall. The rafters of the roof had dragged the north wrall inwards to a corresponding degree”. The testimony, of the archivist, Jacopo Grimaldi, is perhaps still more telling, because unintentional. He says that the paintings on the south side are practically invisible, from the dust which gathers upon them on account of its slant, while those on the north wall can be seen; he estimates the deflection at five palms (3ft. 1,1/2 in.).

If, however, we may acquit Nicholas of having needlessly laid hands on the venerable basilica of Constantine, we cannot hold him guiltless in regard to the other ancient buildings from which he ruthlessly purloined the materials for his own. In doing so he only followed in the footsteps, of his contemporaries and predecessors. Nevertheless it seems strange that a Pope, who so highly appreciated the literature of the ancients, should have shown so little regard for their other creations. The account books of his reign are full of notices of payments, for the transport of blocks of marble, and travertine from the great Circus, the Aventine, Sta. Maria Nuova, the Forum, and, most of all, the Coliseum. More than two- thousand five hundred cart loads were carried away from this amphitheatre in one year alone. Similar recklessness was, unfortunately, displayed in the destruction of a precious memorial of Christian antiquity, the mortuary chapel of the Anician family, built against the apse of St. Peter. Had not the humanist Maffeo Vegio, as he says, by accident, found his way into the abandoned and forgotten “Templum Probi”, popularly called the house of St. Peter, before it was demolished, we should have known nothing of the interior of this most interesting mortuary chapel, or of the epitaphs of Anicius Probus and Faltonia Proba. In justice, however, it must be said that on other occasions Nicholas showed great reverence for the relics of the old basilica, and was really careful to preserve the work of his predecessors. Thus he replaced the tomb of Innocent VII, and had the slabs of porphyry, which formed the ancient pavement, kept together and laid by. When the workmen employed in building the choir of St. Peter’s found some Christian graves, he was so delighted that he presented them with ten ducats apiece. He caused a chalice to be made out of the gold ornaments found in these tombs.

Notable alterations were made by Nicholas in the Vatican Palace. The account books show that these were commenced in the first year of his reign, and a special “architect of the Palace” appointed. The Pope began by causing one set of rooms to be restored and decorated, and then proceeded to the execution of the plan described by Manetti. Thus, by his command, the new library, the hall for the equerries, the Belvidere, and the new chapel of St. Laurence were successively built. According to Panvinius Nicholas also built a new chapel dedicated to his own patron Saint. Walls and towers rose rapidly around the restored papal citadel; one of the latter is still in existence. The building, which was being thus transformed, dated from the time of Nicholas III. If we ascend the great staircase of Pius IX, says one who knows Rome thoroughly, and thus enter the court of Damasus, the old building will be on our left, the greater part of its front concealed by the loggie of Bramante, and its longer side touching the great court of Julius II. In its present state the ground-floor dates from Alexander VI, the first-floor belongs to Nicholas V. The famous “stanze”, whose walls were covered a little later with Raphael’s paintings, together with those adjoining them and the so-called chapel of St. Laurence, remain, for the most part, architecturally unaltered, but, with the exception of the chapel, have been entirely repainted. The chapel of the Blessed Sacrament, on the other hand, built by Eugenius IV, and decorated by Nicholas V, was destroyed in the course of the alterations made by Paul III. The proportions of these “stanze” are singularly noble and harmonious, while the expanse of unbroken surface which their walls present and the semi-circular spaces above them corresponding with the intersecting arches of the ceilings make them peculiarly adapted for the reception of large compositions.

In his choice of artists and architects Nicholas fully maintained the cosmopolitan traditions of the Papal Court. Martin V had bought the little portable altar, now in Berlin, painted by Roger van der Weyden; Eugenius IV had sat for his portrait to Jean Fouquet; Nicholas, whose ambition it was to make Rome the capital of the world, drew artists of all sorts thither from every part of Italy, and from Germany, the Netherlands, France, and Spain. The exuberant artistic life of Florence, and Nicholas’s former relations with that city easily account for the preference accorded in general to Florentine masters. Alberti has been already mentioned. Associated with him we find the celebrated Bernardo Gamberelli, surnamed Rossellino. Before them another Florentine, Antonio di Francesco, had already entered the service of Nicholas. From the year 1447, his name appears in the account books as architect of the Palace, and he retained this post until the death of the Pope. His salary was liberal, ten gold florins a month; Rossellino received fifteen; Fioravante, also an architect, only from six to seven ducats. The fact that this Fioravante degli Alberti, a Bolognese, who, for his versatility, was nicknamed Aristotle, was employed by the Pope, has only been discovered quite recently. It was he who, in 1452, transported four gigantic monolith pillars from an old edifice behind the Pantheon, and placed them in the choir of St. Peter’s. And there is no doubt that he was the person selected to put into execution the Pope's design of placing the obelisk on the four colossal figures of the Evangelists.

The architects appointed by the Pope had a number of clerks of the works under them, whose business it was to test the materials supplied, and measure the work done, under contract. Amongst those employed in this subordinate capacity, we find the names of artists of considerable merit. For the execution of the works three different systems were employed. Under one, the architects and workmen were paid fixed salaries monthly or daily, and had all materials found for them. Under a second, the work was paid by the piece. Finally, under the third, the whole building was put into the hands of a contractor, who provided both labour and material, and must consequently have been a man of considerable means. The most notable of these was a Lombard from Varese, Beltramo di Martino, to whom was entrusted the choir of St. Peter’s, a portion of the new city walls., and the fortress of Orvieto. In some years the reimbursements received by him from the Pope on account of these works amounted to from twenty-five to thirty thousand ducats. “It is easy to see”, says a modern writer, “what a population of workmen all these new buildings and their accompaniments must have drawn into Rome, and how rapidly an artisan class of citizens must have sprung up in the midst of the medieval herdsmen”.

The capacity displayed by Nicholas in harmonizing the various branches of art, and assigning to each its proportionate place, was even more admirable than his largeness of conception and refinement of taste. With true insight, he made architecture the queen to whom all the rest were subordinate. If sculpture seems less favored by this art-loving Pope, the cause is to be found in the circumstances which interrupted his work and left it unfinished; in the completed designs an ample part was assigned to it. Nicholas did much to promote and encourage the art of marquetry, (Intarsia). The chapel of the Madonna della Febbre and his own study were richly ornamented with inlaid woods. Finally, painting was extensively employed in the decoration both of St. Peter’s and the Vatican, and, amongst the many painters of whose services Nicholas availed himself, the foremost place must undoubtedly be given to the unique genius of Fra Giovanni Angelico da Fiesole (1387-1455).

This “charming master of inspired simplicity” brought religious painting to a height of perfection that it had never hitherto attained, possibly to the greatest which it is capable of attaining!  In his work the medieval ideal, in response to the new life infused into it by the bracing air of the Renaissance, bursts forth into gorgeous blossoms; through him we see exactly how the kingdom of heaven, the angels, the saints, and the blessed were represented in the devout thoughts of his time, and thus his paintings are of the highest value as documents in the history of religion.

“If”, says the biographer of Fra Bartolommeo della Porta, “Giotto, at times, in his force and depth resembles the prophets of the Old Testament or the Psalmist pouring forth his soul-stirring lays, or the face of Moses resplendent with the reflection of the Deity, Fra Angelico is the image of the Disciple of love. He is the painter of eternal love, as Giotto and Orcagna are the painters of the faith. For him, as for St. Francis of Assisi, the whole universe is a hymn, and in all things he sees the reflection of the uncreated love of their Divine Maker. The world lies bathed in those golden beams which diffuse light and warmth throughout all creation. Like St. Francis he dwells in a region so far removed from all the discords of this world that with him some rays of light reflected from the sun of spirits fall even on the bad. Through all the heavenly circles his gentle spirit yearns upwards to the throne of infinite pity, from thence he looks down upon the world ; he is the herald, the prophet, the witness of the Divine mercy”. Thus the pictures of the lowly Dominician impress us almost like a vision.

No one more truly appreciated Fra Angelico than Nicholas V. The relations between the Pope and the devout artist, who never took up his pencil without prayer, soon ripened into friendship;  their acquaintance had probably begun in Florence. Those wonderful paintings in the cloister of St. Mark’s, which to this day are the delight of all lovers of true art, belong to the time when Nicholas was a student in that city. The frescoes begun by Fra Angelico in the Vatican for Eugenius IV, and, alas! destroyed under Paul III, were its most precious ornament at the time that Nicholas ascended the Papal throne. While still occupied with these he had other work also to do for the Pope. The account books of 1449 make mention of a study built for Nicholas in the Vatican, decorated with Intarsia work and gilt friezes and cornices, and in one it is positively stated that some paintings were executed in this chamber by Fra Giovanni da Firenze (Fiesole) and his pupils. We gather further from these accounts that Fra Giovanni di Roma who was a painter on glass, furnished two windows for this room, one representing the Blessed Virgin and the other Sts. Stephen and Lawrence. But to this day we find paintings by Fra Angelico of the lives of these saints, in good preservation, on the walls of the chapel of St. Laurence. Hence the inference almost amounts to a certainty that this celebrated chapel and the study men­tioned in these books are identical, the latter having afterwards been converted into a private oratory for the Pope. The three walls of this chamber are covered with a double row of paintings, depicting the principal scenes in the lives of St. Stephen and St. Laurence. Fra Angelico thus gives visible expression to the popular custom of uniting the names of these two heroes of the Christian faith in a common invocation, which had prevailed ever since the time when their venerated remains had been deposited together in the same tomb, in the old basilica of San Lorenzo fuori le mura.

The charm of these pictures is indescribable and unfailing, however often they may be visited. Though past sixty when he painted them, as in Orvieto, Fra Angelico’s freshness of conception and mastery of art show no traces of failure or decay. The ordination of St. Stephen, the distribution of alms, and, above all, the picture of St. Stephen preaching, are three paintings which are as perfect in their way as the best examples of the greatest masters. It would be difficult to imagine a group more admirable in its composition, or more graceful in contour, than that of the seated and listening women in the last named picture. In that of the stoning there is, no doubt, some weakness in the delineation of the fanatical rage of the executioners, but this defect was inseparable from those qualities which are the painter’s chief glory. His imagination, habitually dwelling in a region of love and devout ecstasy, was out of its element in such scenes of hatred and fury.

But, beyond this, the paintings in this room possess also a special interest, because they show, besides an increase in perfection and power in his own line, how far Fra Angelico was from turning away from the progress of his time, as one might, perhaps, have expected him to do. In many of these compositions the influence of the antique is unmistakably evident. The beautiful basilica in which St. Laurence stands while distributing alms shows how quickly Fra Angelico had grasped the principles of the new architecture : its proportions are as chaste as they are noble. The picture of the same saint before the judgment seat of the Emperor Decius is an archaeological restoration. Above the hall the Roman eagle is represented, surrounded by a laurel wreath. The only reminiscence of the Gothic is seen in the Baldacchini over the Fathers of the Church, everywhere else the classical style is supreme. But like his patron and friend, Pope Nicholas, Angelico joined to his appreciation of the antique an intense love for Christianity. Hence in all these compositions the influence of the classical ideal is never permitted to interfere with the Christian spirit which pervades them. He has thus proved that even in the domain of art, the Renaissance, rightly understood, was capable of leading to a higher perfection.

Many other eminent painters were also attracted to Rome by Nicholas. From Perugia came Benedetto Buonfiglio, one of the most distinguished of Perugino’s predecessors, from Foligno Bartolommeo da Foligno, the master of Niccolò Alunno. The latter, according to the account books, painted a hall in the Vatican between 1451­1453. His salary was high, seven ducats a month, with board. In 1454 we find Andrea del Castagno in the Pope’s service, and, according to Vasari, Piero della Francesca and Bramantino were also employed by Nicholas. Their names do not appear in the books, but there is a long list of others from Rome and its neighborhood. Of these the most eminent, judging by his pay (eight ducats a month), would seem to have been Simone da Roma; he was at work in the Vatican during almost the whole reign of Nicholas. A German and a Spaniard also appear amongst those who received commissions from the Pope.

Nicholas followed his own judgment in the distribution of their tasks, as freely as he did in the choice of the artists he employed. Thus, from Piero della Francesca he only required historical pictures; not a single altarpiece or religious painting of any kind was entrusted to him. His pictures contained portraits of Charles VII, the Prince of Salerno, and Cardinal Bessarion, and were placed in the hall in. which we now see the miracle of Bolsena and the liberation of St. Peter. Nicholas V seems to have had a special partiality for stained glass. Not only St. Peter’s, but also all the chief rooms in the Vatican, had painted windows. The humanist Maffeo Vegio is loud in his praises of their beauty and brilliancy.

The minor arts were equally encouraged by this Pope. “For many hundred years”, says a contemporary writer, “so much silken apparel and so many jewels and precious stones had not been seen in Rome”. To this large-minded Pope also belongs the honor of having founded the first manufacture of tapestry in Rome. He brought Renaud de Maincourt from Paris, and gave him four assistants and a fixed salary to weave tapestry. The goldsmiths and gold embroiderers were unable to fulfill all the commissions of the Pope; the resources of Rome and Florence were soon exhausted, and the workshops of Siena, Venice, and Paris were called into requisition. The account books are full of orders for tiaras, copes, and other vestments, censers, reliquaries, crosses, chalices, and ornamental vessels of all sorts for the services of the Church. In this, according to Manetti and Platina, the purpose of the Pope was the same as in his architectural undertakings. The pomp and magnificence displayed in the celebration of the Holy Mysteries were equally a means for exalting the dignity and authority of the Holy See. Even in all the lesser details of its accessories and ornaments, the Church was to reflect the splendor of the Heavenly Jerusalem.

But the indefatigable energy of Nicholas, which astonished his contemporaries, did not exhaust itself in his plans for Rome; the whole Papal States were to be equally efficiently protected and embellished. With a just sense of the dignity of the head of Christendom, this great Pope was determined that the heritage of St. Peter should no longer be at the mercy of the insults and attacks of turbulent vassals. What had been done for Rome by the restoration of the walls and the forts of St. Angelo was to be done also for all the principal places throughout the Papal States. Everywhere ruined walls were rebuilt, churches restored, public squares enlarged and beautified. Assisi, Civita Vecchia, Gualdo, Narni, Civita Castellana, Castelnuovo, Vicarello were fortified and embellished by Nicholas. In Spoleto the magnificent castle of Cardinal Albornoz was completed; in Orvieto the Episcopal Palace, the aqueduct, and the walls were restored. At Viterbo the Pope built baths for the sick on a princely scale. In Fabriano, which was famous for its pure air, and where the Pope resided for some time on account of the plague which had broken out in Rome, he rebuilt the Franciscan Churh and enlarged the principal square, which he surrounded with a wall.

In fact, since the Carolingians, no Pope had built so much as Nicholas; the fresh eager enthusiasm of the early Renaissance is personified in him. “The works of Nicholas”, said Aeneas Sylvius, “are as far superior to anything that the modern world has produced as are the castle of St. Angelo and the buildings of the old empire; they now lie scattered around us like gigantic ruins, but had they been completed the new Rome would have had nothing to fear from a comparison with the old”. From his earliest youth Nicholas had loved and delighted in letters; it was but natural now that he had the powers that, much as he did for art, he should do still more for them. Under him Rome had seemed transformed into a huge building yard, an immense workshop and studio; it became also a vast literary laboratory. For, if architecture was the Pope’s hobby, writing and translating and collecting books and translations in libraries was his passion. The humanists had good reason to rejoice at the election of Tommaso Parentucelli. Insignificant and poor as he seemed, and comparatively young for a Pope, for he was only forty-nine, they knew well, most of them from personal acquaintance, how fully bent he was upon throwing the whole weight of his influence and position as head of the Church into the scales on the side of learning.

Poggio, the humanist, who was in a certain sense the Nestor of the republic of letters at that time, in his letter of congratulation to the new Pope, gives eloquent expression to the hopes and wishes of his party. “I beseech you, Holy Father”, he says, “not to forget your old friends, or suffer your care for them to grow slack because you have many other cares. Take measures to increase the number of those who resemble yourself, so that the liberal arts, which in these bad days seem almost extinct, may revive and flourish again. From you alone we hope for what has so long been neglected by others. To you is entrusted the glorious mission of restoring philosophical studies to their former honor and pre-eminence, and resuscitating the nobler arts”. These words found a glad response in the breast of Nicholas; they reflected his own sentiments.

“All the scholars in the world”, says Vespasiano Bisticci, “came to Rome in the time of Pope Nicholas, partly of their own accord, and partly at his request, because he desired to have them there”. This, of course, is not literally true, but in point of fact it was the Pope’s wish to bind the revival of classical literature as closely as possible to Rome and the Holy See, and with this object, from the very beginning of his reign, he did his utmost to attract all the learned and literary men of his day to his Court. Rising talent was sought out and encouraged, and there was hardly a single literary man of any note who did not receive some recompense or favor from Nicholas. When Maecenas heard that there were still some distinguished writers in Rome, who lived in retirement, and for whom he had as yet done nothing, he exclaimed, “If they are worth anything why do they not come to me, who am willing to encourage and reward even mediocrity”. Had it been possible Nicholas would have been glad to have transported the whole of Florence to the banks of the Tiber.

The golden age of the humanists now began. Not satisfied with those whose services had already been secured by his predecessors, Nicholas summoned a host of new literary celebrities to the Eternal City. In a very short time he had instituted there a veritable court of the muses, composed of all the most distinguished scholars of the day—Poggio, Valla, Manetti, Alberti, Aurispa, Tortello, Decembrio, and many others.

The first thing that strikes the eye in glancing over the names of this brilliant company is that, like the artists employed by Nicholas, they are almost all strangers. There is but one Roman amongst them. The Eternal City seems strangely barren. Here and there we hear of a scholarly cardinal or prelate, but there is no mention of any improvement in the education of the people, or of intellectual tastes, with one or two exceptions, amongst the nobility, no literary activity in the convents, and no foundations except for theological studies. To appreciate the full merit of this Pope we must take this state of things into consideration. It was he who, single-handed, turned the capital of Christendom into that brilliant centre of art and learning that it became. How much less difficult was the task of Cosmo de' Medici, who was not obliged to begin creating an intellectual atmosphere.

Amidst the crowd of learned and literary men who quickly gathered around the Pope the Florentines naturally were admitted to the closest personal intimacy. Here again the noble figure of Alberti is the first to catch the eye; but unfortunately just as in Florence his personality is obscured by the throng of humanists who surround him, so also in Rome no details concerning him are extant. Giannozzo Manetti was the most intimate of all with Nicholas. As a Christian humanist he was truly “the man after the Pope’s own heart”, and in 1451 Nicholas made him Apostolic Secretary, and gave him a magnificent establishment when in 1453 he came to reside in Rome. Manetti’s admirable biography of his generous patron attests his gratitude.

The bookseller Vespasiano da Bisticci was on very intimate terms with Nicholas. His excellent memoirs and sketches of character, which are invaluable to the student of the culture of his time, proclaim him to have been a man of warm heart, vigorous intellect, and sound judgment. The good Giovanni Tortello, the first librarian of the Vatican, also enjoyed a large share of the Pope’s confidence.

Unfortunately in his selection of the men who seemed to him to be necessary for his work Nicholas displayed a readiness to overlook much that was seriously objectionable, which can hardly be justified. Personally the Pope was undoubtedly loyal to the Christian Renaissance, but he was so far carried away by the enthusiasm of the time as to be almost wholly blind to the dangers that were to be apprehended from the opposite side. Thus he accepted from the unprincipled Poggio the dedication of a pamphlet in which Eugenius IV was almost openly accused of hypocrisy, and did not scruple at raising his salary so as to enable him to live entirely by his muse. When the cynical sceptic was called away to Florence to become a member of the Chancery there, Nicholas took leave of him with regret, and allowed him to retain a nominal secretaryship as a token of regard. Filelfo, a perfect master in the art of scurrilous vituperation, was invited to Rome, and loaded with favors when he got there. The early death of the semi-pagan Marsuppini alone prevented his being brought thither, and provided for in such a manner as to enable him to give his undivided attention to the translation of Homer.

Nothing affords a more striking proof of the indulgence with which the humanistic movement had come to be regarded in Rome than the attitude assumed by the dissolute satirist Valla, to whom nothing was sacred. In common with the majority of the adherents of the false Renaissance, Valla was far from being a fanatical sceptic. Even under Eugenius IV he had written an obsequious letter retracting his former publications, and praying for an appointment. But the Pope very justly refused to be propitiated. Even Nicholas did not go so far as formally to invite to Rome and heap preferments on the author of the book “De voluptate”, the declared enemy of the temporal power, the bitter satirist of the religious orders. But he tolerated the presence of such a man at the Papal Court, and even made him apostolic notary. The task of translating Thucydides into Latin was entrusted to Valla.

Most of the learned men thus summoned to Rome were employed in translating Greek authors into Latin. This was the Pope’s especial delight. He read these translations himself with the greatest interest, liberally rewarded the translators, and honored them with autograph letters. Vespasiano da Bisticci gives a long list of translations which owed their existence to this “noble passion of Nicholas V”. By this means Herodotus, Thucydides, Zenophon, Polybius, Diodorus, Appian, Philo, Theophrastus, and Ptolemy became now for the first time accessible to students. The delights of drinking in the wisdom of Greece from the source itself was inexpressible.  “Greece”, writes Filelfo, referring to these translators and to Nicholas’s collection of manuscripts, “has not perished, but has migrated to Italy, the land that in former days was called the greater Greece”.

At a time when the knowledge of Greeks was confined to such a small number of students, these translations were most valuable; they were regarded as a branch of literature to which the most distinguished men did not disdain to devote their energies. Nothing can be more unjust than to speak slightingly of this band of eager workers, whose activity was perpetually kept at fever heat by the admonitions and rewards of the Pope, and call them mere operatives in a great translation-factory. The most eminent humanists of the day—Poggio, Guarino, Decembrio, Filelfo, Valla—laboured at these tasks. Their productions were much admired by their contemporaries, and royally rewarded by Nicholas, who was determined, as far as it was possible, to render all the treasures of Greek literature accessible to Latin scholars. Valla received for his translation of Thucydides, of which the original manuscript is preserved in the Vatican Library, five hundred gold scudi. When Perotti presented his translation of Polybius to the Pope, Nicholas at once handed him five hundred newly-minted Papal ducats, saying that he deserved more, and should receive an ampler reward later. He gave a thousand scudi for the ten first books of Strabo, and offered ten thousand gold pieces for a translation of Homer’s poems.

When we compare these sums with the payments made to artists, we begin to realize how enormous they were. At that period the latter were held in far less esteem than scholars and professors. The same Pope who thought nothing of making a present of five hundred gold florins to two humanists, and bestowed on Giannozzo Manetti an official salary of six hundred ducats, paid Fra Angelico at the rate of fifteen ducats a month only, and gave Gozzoli but seven.

Learned and literary men were the Pope’s real favorites; to them he gave with both hands. Vespasiano da Bisticci says that he always carried a leathern purse containing some hundreds of florins, and drew from it liberally on all occasions. And his manner of giving made the gift itself more efficacious. When he insisted on the acceptance of a present he would represent it as a token of regard rather than a recompense of merit. He would overcome the scruples of modest worth by saying with playful ostentation, “Don’t refuse; you may not find another Nicholas”. Often he actually forced his rewards on learned men. When Filelfo, conscious of some disrespectful expressions, was afraid to ask for an audience, Nicholas sent for him, and in the most gracious manner reproached him for having been so long in Rome without coming to see him. When he took leave he presented him with five hundred ducats, saying, “This, Messer Filelfo, is for the expenses of your journey”. Vespasiano da Bisticci, who relates the story, exclaims enthusiastically, “This is liberality indeed”.

In fact Nicholas was the most generous man of a lavish age. “In the eight years of his Pontificate”, says the historian of the Eternal City in the Middle Ages, “he filled Rome with books and parchments; he was another Ptolomy Philadelphus. This noble Pope might have been well represented with a cornucopia in his hand, showering gold 011 scholars and artists. Few men have had ampler experience of the happiness of giving towards worthy ends”.

If Nicholas had been permitted to accomplish his design of familiarizing the Italians with the literature of Greece, the consequences would have been in the highest degree beneficial. The main evil of the early Renaissance was its ignorance of Greek. The efforts of Nicholas to correct this deserves the highest praise. Had the culture of the humanists been derived directly from Greek sources rather than from the degenerate Roman civilization, the whole later development of the movement would have been different. This, as we know, he was unable to achieve. But much was done by the band of scholars whom Nicholas assembled in Rome to promote and diffuse the knowledge of the Greek language and literature, the value and importance of which in the history of culture he so fully appreciated. The writings of Aristotle, disencumbered of the veil thrown over them by the Arabs and schoolmen, were now for the first time really understood. Greek history, hitherto only learnt from compendiums, was now studied in the original writings of its own historians. Herodotus, Thucydides, and many others were by the middle of the century either wholly or partially translated. These translations often left much to be desired both in regard to accuracy and latinity; nevertheless, such as they were, they formed a notable accession to the materials of learning, and were an enormous intellectual gain, especially in stimulating the desire for further conquests.

But, while fully admitting the value of the literary activity thus fostered by the Pope’s liberality, we must not shut our eyes to the dark side. We have already pointed out how little discrimination he exercised in the selection of the scholars whom he invited. It stood to reason that scandals must arise. Like Florence in Niccoli’s time, only to a still greater degree, Rome became an arena for literary squabbles and scandalous stories of authors. Bitter feuds were carried on for years together between the Latins and the Greeks, and between individuals, even within both parties.

The air was thick with the interchange of accusations and abusive epithets. Sometimes they even came to blows. One day in the Papal Chancellery George of Trebizond, in a fit of jealousy, hit the old Poggio two sounding boxes on the ear; then the two flew at each other, and were, with the greatest difficulty, separated by their colleagues. The Pope himself was obliged to interfere, and George, whose translations had proved worthless, was banished.

Equally disgraceful was the quarrel between Poggio and Valla. “They abused each other”, says the historian of the humanists, “like a couple of brawling urchins in the streets. Poggio raged and stormed, as in former days he was wont to do against Filelfo, accusing his adversary of treachery, larceny, forgery, heresy, drunkenness, and immorality, and seasoning his accusations with scurrilous anecdotes and coarse epithets. Valla, whose motto was : ‘It may be a shame to fight, but to give in is a greater shame’, twitted Poggio with his ignorance of Latin and of the rules of composition, quoting faulty passages, and altogether affecting to look upon him as already in his dotage”,

But even apart from these scandals the position of the humanists in the Court under this Pope cannot but appear anomalous. Nicholas embraced every opportunity for introducing learned men, who, as Platina remarked, occupied themselves much more with the library than with the Church, seriously compromising that ecclesiastical character which the Court of the head of the Church should display. Under Eugenius, the highest dignities had always been bestowed on monks, now none but scholars or translators were promoted. Not only lucrative, but also responsible posts were conferred upon them; thus Giuseppe Brippi, a poet, was placed at the head of the Papal Archives; and another humanist, Decembrio, was made chief of the abbreviators. This state of things made it possible for Filelfo, whose ambition after the death of his wife turned towards ecclesiastical preferments, to solicit the necessary dispensation from the Pope in hexameters! In this production, to which the Pope of course returned no answer, Filelfo declares that from early youth he had cherished a desire of devoting himself wholly to Christ, “the ruler of Olympus”. It does not appear that this epithet shocked anyone; it was re­garded as a Latin turn of expression or a harmless piece of pedantry.

The fact was that the votaries of the false Renaissance had not as yet openly broken with the Church. Doubtless many propositions are to be found in their writings which it would be hard to reconcile with Christian dogma, or the Christian point of view. But these were only obiter dicta, which those who uttered them would have been ready to explain away or retract as lightly as they were spoken. This alone can account for the fact that truly pious men like Nicholas—he was the first Pope who carried the Blessed Sacrament in procession on foot—could regard these things as mere harmless play.

It is evident that the encouragement given to the humanists was a cause of scandal to many at this time, as was also the money spent by Nicholas on his buildings, which it was thought would have been better employed against the Turks. These foes of the Renaissance were very numerous in the religious houses. At the same time a treatise composed by Timoteo Maffei, the pious prior of the regular Canons of Fiesole, is interesting as evidence of the revolution in opinion which the labours of this large-minded Pope was gradually effecting. He denies the assertion that “saintly ignorance” is becoming in those who are called to the religious life, and that humanistic studies are the ruin of piety. On the contrary, he shows by many quotations, from both sacred and profane authors, how much profit monks, as well as other men, may derive from classical knowledge, and ends with a reference to the Pope, to whom he says nothing could be more agreeable than the pursuit of such studies.

Ecclesiastical literature was no less dear to Nicholas, who had taken a lively interest in it long before he could have anticipated that he should ever be called to occupy the Papal chair.

Here, then, were many deficiencies, and some of them very important. The open-handed Nicholas followed the example of Alexander when he set forth to conquer Asia. He promised a reward of five thousand ducats to any one who would bring him the Gospel of St. Matthew in the original tongue. This, of all possible discoveries, was the one he prized most. Gianozzo Manetti was commanded to translate the “Preparation for the Gospel” of Eusebius, together with various writings by Sts. Gregory Nazianzen, Cyril, Basil, and Gregory of Nyssa. The translation of the eighty homilies of St. John Chrysostom on the Gospel of St. Matthew appeared to the Pope especially desirable. This work was entrusted to George of Trebizond, who here again proved utterly incapable- Original works in this department were also desired by the Pope. Gianozzo Manetti was commissioned to write an apologetic treatise against Jews and Heathens, and also to translate the whole Bible from the original Greek and Hebrew texts. Unfortunately Nicholas died before this great work was completed, so that he was unable to reward it as he would have wished, and the plan was never carried out in the manner originally intended. The famous Dominican Cardinal Torquemada dedicated to him two treatises on canon law. Antonio degl' Agli, a Florentine, afterwards Bishop of Fiesole and Volterra, wrote a book for him on the lives and acts of the Saints. In the preface to this interesting work the author declares that, having laid it aside, he resumed it at the express desire of the Pope. He also explains its object. Unfortunately, he says, most of the legends of the Saints were full of fables, and written in an uncouth or affected style, which disgusted the humanists and made them despise Christianity. This he hopes to remedy. He has drawn from the best patristic sources, and especially the old Latin Manuscripts, which are more trustworthy than the Greek, as the Popes had early taken pains to verify the acts of the martyrs. The learned Ambrogio Traversari had already perceived the need of such a work, and begun to supply it. For himself he has done his best to make his book worthy of a place in the Papal library; to others he leaves the task of praising Rome's worldly heroes; his only ambition is to celebrate the heroes of the Church. To conclude, the labors of Nicholas V. as a collector of books were indefatigable and most productive. In his penurious days he had spent every farthing he could spare on the purchase of manuscripts, and even been drawn into debt by his literary voracity ; it is easy to imagine with what energy he would proceed now that he found himself in possession of such ample resources.

A noble library was to form the crowning glory of the new Vatican. The idea of this library, by means of which Nicholas hoped to make Rome the centre of learning for all the ages to come, was perhaps the grandest thought of this great Pope, who was as admirable for his genuine piety and virtue as for his many-sided culture. He wished to place all the glorious monuments of Greek and Roman intellect under the immediate protection of the Holy See, and thus to hand them down intact to future generations.

The zeal displayed by the Pope in the prosecution of this undertaking was unexampled. Not satisfied with collecting and copying the manuscripts that were to be found in Italy, he had agents at work in almost every country in Europe. He sent emissaries to Greece, to England, and to the grand master of the Teutonic Order in Prussia, to discover and buy, or copy all the hidden literary treasures that could be found in these countries. The influence which the Holy See possessed throughout all Christendom was exerted by Nicholas far more for the organization of books than of power. No expense was to be spared; the more spoil his agents brought back the better pleased was the Pope. A rumour reached him of the existence of an exceptionally perfect copy of Livy in Denmark or Norway, and he at once sent the well-known Alberto Enoche of Ascoli, with ample commendatory letters, to procure it. Apparently he was not successful in bringing back anything of much value. The private agents who were in his service in

Greece and Turkey, both before and after the fall of Constantinople, were more fortunate in procuring new manuscripts, which were immediately copied and corrected in Rome. Armies of transcribers, many of whom were Germans and Frenchmen, were perpetually employed in this work. When in 1450 the plague in Rome obliged the Pope to retire to Fabriano, where at that time the best paper was made, he took his translators and copyists with him for fear of losing them.

Nicholas V, himself a calligraphist, required all manuscripts to be well executed. The few specimens still existing in the Vatican library are bound with exquisite taste, even when not illuminated. The material was almost always parchment, and the covers mostly of crimson velvet with silver clasps.

By means of these strenuous exertions the Pope succeeded, in a comparatively very short space of time, in bringing together a really unique collection of books. “Had Nicholas V. been able to carry out his intentions”, says Vespasiano da Bisticci, “the library founded by him at St. Peter’s for the whole Court would have been a really marvellous creation”. It was to have been a public institution, accessible to the whole learned world.  Besides this Nicholas collected a private library of his own, the inventory of which is still to be found in the Secret Archives of the Vatican. This mostly consists of profane authors.

The care of this library was confided by the Pope to Giovanni Tortello, a quiet and unassuming scholar, absorbed in his books, and as well versed in theology as in classics. Few librarians have had so free a hand in regard to expense; his purchases were always sure of a welcome, and the more books he procured the better pleased was his patron. It has been estimated that Nicholas spent more than forty thousand scudi altogether on books.

The numbers of the volumes in the Papal libraries have been very variously stated, and the discrepancies between writers who had the means of knowing accurately are extraordinary. Tortello, who had drawn up a catalogue, now unfortunately lost, reckoned, according to Vespasiano da Bisticci, nine thousand volumes. Pope Pius II estimated it at three thousand; the Archbishop St. Antoninus of Florence, only one thousand. On the other hand, Manetti and Vespasiano da Bisticci, in the biographies of Nicholas V, distinctly state that at the time of the Pope’s death the catalogue numbered five thousand volumes. This estimate is considered by the latest writers to come nearest the truth.

Possibly, however, even this may still be too high. In the Vatican Library there is an inventory of the Latin manuscripts belonging to Nicholas V, which was taken before the coronation of his successor, Calixtus III, on the 16th of April, 1455. That this inventory is complete seems evident, since it includes the private library of the deceased Pope. The Greek manuscripts are not mentioned, but the Latin are numbered up to eight hundred and seven. This was a large collection for those days; the most famous libraries were hardly more numerous. That of Niccoli, the largest and best in Florence, only contained eight hundred volumes (valued at four thousand sequins); that of Visconti, in his castle at Pavia, nine hundred and eighty-eight. Cardinal Bessarion, in spite of his influential connections and lavish expenditure, could only succeed in bringing six hundred manuscripts together. Duke Frederick of Urbino’s library, which consisted of seven hundred and seventy-two manuscripts, was said to have cost him thirty thousand ducats. The other Italian collections are all under three hundred volumes. Even the Medici in 1456 possessed only one hundred and fifty-eight, and in 1494 about a thousand manuscripts.

According to this inventory the Latin manuscripts in the library of Nicholas V were contained in eight large chests. The contents of the first chest were mostly biblical, those of the second consisted of the works of the Fathers of the Church. The Pope’s favorite author, St. Augustine, had sixty volumes, St. Jerome seventeen, St. Gregory six, St. Ambrose fifteen. The third chest contained forty-nine volumes by St. Thomas Aquinas, and six by Albert the Great. In the fourth were twelve books by Alexander of Hales, the same number by St. Bonaventure, twenty-seven by Duns Scotus. In the fifth, amidst many theological and historical works, we first encounter some of the heathen classics, amongst these the gorgeously-bound translation of Thucidydes, presented to the Pope by Valla. The interesting treatise by Timoteo Maffei mentioned above is also to be found here. The eighty-five volumes which filled the sixth chest consisted almost exclusively of works of theology and canon law. The seventh was devoted mostly to heathen classical authors, Florus, Livy, Cicero, Juvenal, Quintilian, Virgil, Claudian, Statius, Catullus, Terence, Ptolemy, Seneca, Apulian, Vegetius, Frontinus, Macrobius, Sallust, Valerius Maximus, Zenophon, Silvius Italicus, Pliny, Horace, Ovid, Homer in a translation, Justin, Columella, Euclid, etc. The eighth chest contained a miscellaneous collection of profane and ecclesiastical writers.

No other Pope was ever such a genuine book-lover as the former professor of Sarzana. “It was his greatest joy”, says the historian of humanism, “to walk about his library arranging the books and glancing through their pages, admiring the handsome bindings, and taking pleasure in contemplating his own arms stamped on those that had been dedicated to him, and dwelling in thought on the gratitude that future generations of scholars would entertain towards their benefactor. Thus he is to be seen depicted, in one of the halls of the Vatican Library, employed in settling his books”, and this, indeed, is his place by right, for he it was who founded that noble collection of manuscripts which still maintains its European reputation.

As the founder of the Vatican Library the influence of Nicholas V is still felt in our own times in the learned world to a greater extent perhaps than that of any other Pope; this library alone is enough to immortalize his name.