prescribed by the Canons and customs of the Church. This doctrine was taught in all the theological schools, that is, in all the Universities and Seminaries of France, as well as in all the Abbeys; and was publicly maintained by the English Benedictine College, at Douay. The conclusion to be drawn from these observations, is, that no Catholic divine, however attached to Papal prerogative, ever conceived an idea so absurd, as that of ascribing infallibility to the person of the Pontiff; and, secondly, that those theologians who ascribed infallibility to Papal decisions, when clothed with certain forms, gave it as their opinion only, but never presumed to enforce it as the doctrine of the Catholic Church." But to all this special pleading, and attempts at concealing the truth, we must oppose the fact that the Popes have claimed, assumed, and acted upon, this infallibility; that some of the ablest Roman divines, writers, and scholars, have asserted and vindicated this infallibility; and that it was this belief, this claim, that armed the power of the Vatican with its greatest force, and gave to its anathemas their deadliest curse. But for this, its Bulls would have been "telum imbelle sine ictu.' CHAPTER VI. OF THE PAPAL PALACES. Or the palaces appropriated to the residence of the Pope, and his official and domestic attendants, the Lateran stands close to the patriarchal church of that name, and was appointed 6 for the residence of the Bishops of Rome, at the same time as the adjoining Basilica was converted into a church by Constantine. It had fallen into ruin, and was rebuilt by Sixtus Quintus. A part only is now reserved for the accommodation of the Pontiff, when he comes to perform service at St. John's. The main body of the building was turned into an Hospital for the reception of two hundred and fifty orphans, by Innocent XI. It presents three fronts, of great extent and simplicity, and strikes the eye by its magnitude and elevation. The Quirinal palace (Monte Cavallo) is become, from the loftiness and salubrity of its situation, the ordinary, or, at least, the summer residence of the Roman Pontiff. Its exterior presents two long fronts, plain and unadorned: the court within is about three hundred and fifty feet long, and near two hundred wide; a broad and lofty portico runs along it on every side, and terminates in a grand staircase, conducting to the Papal apartments, to the gallery and the chapel, all on a grand scale, and adorned with fine paintings. In the furniture and other decorations, the style is simple and uniform, and such as seems to become the grave, unostentatious character of a Christian Prelate. The adjoining gardens are spacious, refreshed by several fountains, and shaded by groves of laurel, pine, ilex, and poplar. In the recesses, arbors, and alleys, are statues, urns, and other antique ornaments, placed with much judgment, and producing a very picturesque effect. In other respects, the gardens are in the same style as the edifice, and exhibit magnificence only in their extent. "I have seen," says a late traveller, "the Vatican! But how shall I express the delight, the admiration, the overpowering astonishment which filled my mind! How describe the extent and the splendor of that almost interminable succession of lengthening galleries and marble halls, whose pictured roofs, mosaic pavements, majestic columns, and murmuring fountains, far surpass even the gorgeous dreams of Eastern magnificence, and are peopled with such breathing forms of beauty and of grace, as sometimes deign to visit the rapt fancy of the poet, and seem to have descended here from happier worlds! "Rome has become the heir of time. Her rich inheritance is the accumulated creations of gifted genius,―the best legacy that departed ages have bequeathed to the world, and here they are concentered in the treasury of fine arts, the temple of taste, the consecrated seats of the Muses! You think I rave: but it is not the ordinary grandeur or costly magnificence that has transported me thus. The splendor of palaces may be rivalled, and the magnitude of temples imitated; but the labor and wealth of the united world would fail to produce another Vatican; for its beauty is inimitable, and its treasures unpurchaseable. "Its cielings, richly painted in fresco-its pictured pavements of ancient mosaic-its magnificent gates of bronze-its polished columns of ancient porphyry, the splendid spoils of the ruins of Imperial Rome-its endless accumulation of Grecian marbles, Egyptian granites, and Oriental alabasters, the very names of which are unknown in transalpine lands—its bewildering extent, and prodigality of magnificence,—but above all, its amazing treasures of sculpture,-have so confused my senses, that I can scarcely believe in its reality, and am almost ready to ask myself if it is not all a dream ?” The exterior of the Vatican is not prepossessing. It is a huge collection of odd buildings, curiously jumbled together, full of sharp angles and strange excrescences; and, as somebody once observed, it is not like a palace, but a company of palaces, which seem to be jostling each other in a contest for place or precedency. The Vatican is now the peaceful theatre of some of the most majestic ceremonies of the Pontifical Court; it is the repository of the records of ancient science, and the temple of the arts of Greece and Rome. Under these three heads it commands the attention of every traveller of curiosity, taste, and information. The exterior does not present any grand display of architectural magnificence, nor even of uniformity and symmetrical arrangement; a circumstance easily accounted for, when we consider that the Vatican was erected by different architects, at different æras, and for very different purposes; and that it is rather an assemblage of palaces, than one regular palace. It was begun about the end of the fifth, or the beginning of the sixth century, and rebuilt, increased, repaired, and altered by various Pontiffs, from that period down to the latter years of the reign of the late Pope, when the French invasion put an end, for some time at least, to all improvements. Its extent is immense, and covers a space of twelve hundred feet in length, and one thousand in breadth; its elevation is proportionate, and the number of apartments it contains, almost incredible. Galleries and porticos sweep around and through it, in all directions, and open an easy access to every quarter. Its halls and saloons are all on a great scale, and by their multitude and loftiness alone, give an idea of magnificence truly Roman. The walls are neither wainscotted nor hung with tapestry; they are adorned, or rather, animated, by the genius of Raffaello and Michael Angelo. The furniture is plain, and ought to be so; finery would be misplaced in the Vatican, and would sink into insignificance in the midst of the great, the vast, the sublime, which are the predominating features, or rather, the very genii of the place. The grand entrance is from the portico of St. Peter's, by the Scala Regia, (the Royal staircase,) the most superb staircase, perhaps, in the world, consisting of four flights of marble steps, adorned with a double row of marble Ionic pillars. This staircase springs from the equestrian statue of Constantine, which terminates the portico on one side; and whether seen thence, or viewed from the gallery leading on the same side to the colonnade, forms a perspective of singular beauty, and grandeur. The Scala Regia conducts to the Sala Regia, or Regal hall, a room of great length and elevation, which communicates, by six large folding doors, with as many other apartments: the space over, and the intervals between, the doors, are occupied by pictures in fresco, representing various events considered as honorable or advantageous to the Roman See. Though all these pieces are the works of great masters, yet one only is peculiarly beautiful; and that is, the triumphal entry of Gregory XI. into Rome, after the long absence of the Pontiffs from the capital, during their residence at Avignon. The massacre of St. Bartholomew, if the memory of such an atrocious and horrible event must be preserved, would be better placed at Paris, where it was perpetrated, than at Rome; and in the palace of the Louvre, where it was planned, than in the Vatican. "Occidat illa dies ævo, nec postera credant Sæcula; nos certe taceamus, et obruta multa Statius. This was the patriotic and benevolent wish of a worthy French magistrate, (the Chancellor L'Hopital,) and in this wish every humane heart will readily join. The humiliation of the Emperors Henry IV. and Frederick Barbarossa, ought not to be ranked among the trophies of the Holy See. It reflects more disgrace on the insolent and domineering Pontiffs, |