resting upon it, is a marble pulpit, which, with the eagle of gilt bronze that forms the reading-desk, is of the twelfth century.

"On leaving this church," says Mr. Wood, "I went to visit a little chapel where St. Augustine was baptized; but it has been modernised. This modernising, for the purpose, generally, of decoration rather than of repair, is most fatal to the historic interest of architectural monuments of other days. In this church, however, if anywhere in Milan, the traveller may surrender himself to the illusion which connects the mind with distant times. Few names so truly illustrious occur in the annals of Milan as that of St. Ambrose, the intrepid champion of the church and the people in the dark and stormy period which closed the fourth century, of which Gibbon records, that he deserves the esteem and veneration of his flock, without soliciting the favour, or apprehending the displeasure of his feeble sovereign.' Besides the pulpit, in which he is said to have preached, 'of plain stone, very large, and of a square form,' there is shown the saint's bedstead. These may or may not be genuine, but his earthly relics at least slumber beneath the altar. The Ambrosian ritual, peculiar to the churches of Milan, has suffered innovation in some respects (and innovation in the Romish Church is always deterioration); but the mass and ceremonies still differ from the ritual observed in all other Roman Catholic churches, in retaining more of the ancient simplicity. In this church, the scene of ecclesiastical councils and civil conflicts, the German emperors ordinarily received from the archbishop the royal crown of Lombardy. Napoleon, it is said, deviated from the usual custom, by assuming the iron crown in the cathedral, but immediately afterwards repairing to the church of St. Ambrose. The Milanese are most proud of their Duomo, and San Carlo is their favourite saint; but the more ancient structure wakens the deepest interest, as it bears a far more venerable name."

Another church which claims the traveller's notice is the Madonna delle Grazie, which formerly belonged to a rich convent of Dominicans, celebrated for containing the Last Supper of Leonardo da Vinci. The church itself is not without interest. The nave is ancient, with a sort of half modernisation which lets the antique character peep through. To this has been added a large square edifice, forming the centre of the building, crowned with a lantern of sixteen sides, and a choir. The central part marks the beginning of the restoration of Roman architecture, and retains traces of Gothic taste; but the parts are so well disposed and so well combined, that it forms one of the most picturesque compositions possible.

The famous "Cenacolo," or Last Supper of Da Vinci, still exists in what was once the refectory of the convent; but it is in so bad a state, that hardly anything but the general design and composition are now discernible. Unhappily, in this masterly production, Da Vinci chose to try the effect of oil, in preference to the more durable process of fresco. The consequence is, that a great portion has scaled off from the wall, and that which still adheres has become of a dingy black, owing principally to the effect of damp. The level of the floor is so low as to be at times three feet under water, and the walls are never quite dry. Under Eugene Beauharnois, the room was drained, and everything possible has been done for the preservation of the picture from further injury. Mr. Eustace, ever glad of an occasion to abuse the French, accuses them of having used this picture as a target for the soldiers to fire at; adding, to deepen the atrocity of the outrage, that the heads were their favourite marks, and that of our Saviour in preference to the others. Lady Morgan flatly pronounces the story entirely false from beginning to end. The fact appears to be, that although much of the accusation is gratuitous, and the whole has received a strong portion of colouring from Mr. Eustace's imagination, the picture has received injury from the French soldiers. "Wishing," says Mr. Simond, " to ascertain whether Eustace's accusation against the French were true, I examined the picture closely, and certainly discovered a number of round holes like balls, plugged up with something

like putty, and likewise dents in the wall, apparently the effect of brickbats thrown against it, fragments of which still remained in some of the holes. As to when, and by whom the mischief was done, a woman who had lived next door for the last seventeen years, told me, that she had heard of soldiers firing at the picture before her time; that a soldier of the sixth regiment of French hussars had told her, that he himself with others had done so, not knowing what it was, when guarding prisoners confined in the hall; and that these prisoners, men of all nations, threw stones and brickbats against it by way of amusement. When Bonaparte came to Milan, he called to see the picture, and finding the place still used as a place of confinement, ' shrugged his shoulders and stamped with his foot,' the woman said; and ordering the prisoners away, had a door, which she showed me, near the picture, walled up, and a balustrade, or low wooden partition, drawn across the room below it for protection.

"The painting has suffered more serious injury, however, from the impious hands, not of the French, but of the monks themselves. Forsyth asserts, that they once whitewashed it! The feet of our Saviour were cut away by a superior of the convent, to heighten a doorway; a circumstance Mr. Eustace of course forgets to mention. According to Lady Morgan, it has also been defaced by attempts at restoration. It originally occupied the whole side of the wall, about thirty feet in length, and fifteen in height. The head of our Saviour is stated by Vasari to have been left unfinished by Leonardo; and Lanzi, who throws a doubt on this circumstance, acknowledges that in its present state three heads of the apostles alone remain of the original work."

"Of the heads," says Professor Phillips, "there is not one untouched, and many are totally ruined. Fortunately that of the Saviour is the most pure, being but faintly retouched; and it presents even a most perfect image of that divine character. Whence arose the story of its not having been finished, it is difficult now to conceive; and the history varies among the writers who have mentioned it. But perhaps a man so scrupulous as he in the definement of character and expression, and so ardent in his pursuit of them, might have expressed himself unsatisfied, where all others could see only perfection.'

On the opposite wall there is a fresco, in comparatively good preservation, although somewhat older. The date, 1495, and the name of the artist, Donatus Mototarra, are inscribed upon it. "The helmets of the warriors," Mr. Simond says, "come out in actual relief on the wall, with a view, probably, to increase the fierceness of their looks; a trick worthy of the rest of the picture, which was bad. Two of the figures in the foreground, painted in oil over the fresco, in order, probably, to give them more vigour, have become of the same dingy black as those of Leonardo da Vinci."

By order of Napoleon, an accurate copy of Da Vinci's painting was made by a skilful Milanese artist, Guiseppe Bossi; and from this copy, Signor Rafaelli, of Rome, has executed another copy in mosaic, which, it is said, on the same authority, "possesses all the correctness of design, and all the expression still distinguishable in the decayed original, together with the strength of colouring and harmony which that has now lost." The work was begun by order of Eugene, has been continued by the Emperor of Austria, and was completed some years ago, after having occupied the labour of eight or ten men during eight years. The change of its destination, which has transferred it to Vienna, is much to the dissatisfaction of the Italian citizens. The workshop of Rafaelli was one of the principal "lions" in Milan.

The church of St. Mark's is an edifice of the thirteenth century, and its beauty is said to have been at one time proverbial. "The proportions," Mr. Wood says, "are very good, though low in comparison with those usual with us. The front seems to have had a magnificent rose-window, which is now filled up. The inside has been entirely modernised, but enough of the exterior remains to show how very inferior the architecture

of Italy was, at that period, to that of France and England. Though adopting a slightly pointed arch, the buildings do not seem to have risen above the plainness and rudeness of the Saxon style, till the middle of the fourteenth century.

"The church of St. Eustorgio deserves a passing glance. The outside is of brick, probably of the thirteenth century, as, in 1220, it came into the possession of the Dominicans. The inside has been modernised, but it contains some interesting tombs of the Visconti, and of the early restorers of Greek literature in Italy. Here also they pretend to show the marble sarcophagi of the three wise men-kings they are pleased to call them-who followed the star of our Saviour from the East." An archbishop is said to have brought the bones from Asia to Milan in the fourth century; and Frederick Barbarossa, in the twelfth, seized and carried them to Cologne, where their tomb forms one of the special objects which those who pay may see when they visit

That town of monks and bones

And pavements fanged with murderous stones.'

"The little church of San Satyro still exhibits some of the architecture of the ninth century. It is a mere fragment, of no great interest, except as it serves to prove that the taste of that period was very much like that which we call Norman, with capitals more nearly resembling the ancient Corinthian; but I could not trace anything," adds Mr. Wood," of the beau tems de Rome, which is said to characterise this edifice."

Evelyn mentions San Celso "as a church of rare architecture, built by Bramante, the carvings of the marble faciata by Hannibal Fontana. In a room adjoining the church is a marble Madonna like a colosse, of the same sculptor's work, which they will not expose to the air. There are two sacristias, in one of which is a fine Virgin of Leonardo da Vinci; in the other is one by Raphael d'Urbino, a piece which all the world admire. The sacristan showed us a world of rich plate, jewels, and embroidered copes, which are kept in presses." Mr. Wood speaks of the church of the Madonna di San Celso as an edifice built towards the close of the fifteenth century, and attributed to Bramante, and also to Solari, a Milanese; while the font is the design of Galeazzo Alessi, who was not born till about the year 1550. "The entrance is from a court surrounded with arcades, which has a very elegant appearance. The edifice is of marble, and both the court and the interior of the church are well proportioned, and produce a pleasing impression, though the details are bad." Mr. Forsyth briefly mentions this same church as boasting of some admirable statues: "its front, indeed, is injured by them.'

Milan has been styled "the little Paris," and the appellation is not inappropriate, for it resembles that capital rather than the other Italian cities. The streets of the old town are mostly narrow and irregular, but its modern buildings are those of a gay, thriving, and prosperous population. The citizens are generally fond of what is called "good living," and its markets are abundantly supplied with every luxury. Numerous cafés, splendid hotels, an abundance of elegant carriages and elegantly-dressed pedestrians, all attest the habits of a luxurious capital.

But Milan is also a centre of learning; it is the residence of several of the best Italian writers, and more books are published yearly in this city than in all the rest of Italy. The annual exhibition of living artists shows that the fine arts are cultivated and patronised. The museum of Brera contains several excellent paintings of the great masters, Guercino, Raffaelle, and Guido. The Ambrosian Library is rich in manuscripts, pamphlets, and other valuable remains of ancient literature.

Raffaelle's cartoon for the School of Athens is in the second gallery of this building. It contains the figures only, without the architecture, executed with black chalk on gray paper, and is twenty-six feet nine inches wide. "It is," says Sir C. Eastlake, "one of the most interesting examples of the nature and extent of the alterations introduced in a

composition prepared for fresco. The changes are mostly additions. The figure of Epictetus, represented in the fresco sitting in the foreground on the left, leaning his head on his hand, is wanting in the cartoon. This figure was added to fill up a vacant space, and thus the change, though a considerable improvement, involved no inconvenience. Some less important alterations in the same fresco-such as covering the head of Aspasia with drapery instead of showing her flowing tresses (for thus she appears in the cartoon)-might have been made on the wall, without any change in the drawing. That this cartoon was the identical one which served for the execution of the fresco, is proved by the exact conformity of every part, except the additions above mentioned, with the painting."

The Great Hospital, one of the finest and largest in the world, has been richly endowed by numerous benefactors, whose portraits are preserved within its walls. A singular but amusing distinction has been observed in these portraits. Those benefactors, who have contributed below a certain sum, are represented standing, while those whose donations or legacies have been more considerable, are painted sitting at their ease.

Milan has also houses of refuge for poor children; two large workhouses for the unemployed poor; a savings bank; a veterinary school; a school of music; and another of the fine arts. For general education there are three royal colleges; three gymnasia ; three establishments for female instruction; and several elementary schools. The manufactures of Milan consist chiefly of silks, braid, soap, leather, printed cottons, plateglass, jewellery, and artificial flowers.

CHAPTER XLII.

TURIN-MONT CENIS-MONTE ROSA-FAREWELL TO THE ALPS.

THE first view of Turin is very imposing. No mean suburbs, no mouldering walls deform its entrance. The spacious and regular streets so intersect each other, as to leave an opening at their extremity, that everywhere admits a view of the fine background of green hills and hanging vineyards. Towards the centre, the Piazza Reale, formed by the palace and other public edifices, presents one of the most elegant squares in Europe; and in the principal streets, the Contrada Nuova, the Dora Grossa, and the Contrada del Po, which are from eighty to one hundred feet in width, a long and regular line of porticoes exhibits a striking succession of beautiful architecture; while the balconies above, canopied with light draperies, have a picturesque and lively appearance. The plan of the city, its rectangular streets, with the royal palace in the centre, is completely in the Spanish taste. Turin is, in fact, stated to owe much of its regularity to the alliance of a Piedmontese prince with an Infanta of Spain. An incompleteness, however, mars, in some degree, this imposing grandeur; even in façades of the handsomest architecture, the holes are still left gaping, which supported the scaffolding at the time of their erection.

Though the royal palace is not built in the rules of beauty, it is grand enough for a monarch. The palace of the Duke of Savoy, standing alone in the middle of the principal square, required four fronts equal in dignity; but three are hideous in themselves, and derive comparative ugliness from the beauty of the fourth. This last front, composed of one Corinthian peristyle, raised on a plain basement, is the noblest elevation in Turin, where it holds the post of honour. The palace of Carignano has a curvilinear front, mezzanini above mezzanini, orders that are of no order, and fantastic ornaments, threatened rather than produced, on the unplastered brick. The staircase is a difficult trick of Guarini's, who wasted his architectural wit in many attempts to frighten the world by the appearance of weight unsupported. Guarini and Juvara have profaned the churches of Turin with the same puerile conceits and ostentation of stone-cutting science. Their Carmine, Carmelitane, Consola, &c., evince wonderful talents for the crooked, the singular, and the gaudy. The Santo Sudario, a chapel common to the cathedral and the palace, is entirely composed of a slate-coloured marble. Such materials were in themselves solemn and monumental; but, falling into the freakish hands of Guarini, they have been frittered into a cupola full of triangular windows, which form the wildest lace-work that ever disgraced architecture.

At the time of the French invasion, Turin, though only three miles in circumference (the smallest royal capital in Europe), is stated to have contained not fewer than a hundred and ten churches; all splendidly endowed, and rich in marbles, pictures, and other treasures. The metropolitan church, San Giovanni Battista, was once numbered among the richest churches of Italy; but its vases of pure gold, its forty candelabras, and twenty bishops of virgin silver, its censers of precious stones, ruby crosses, and adaman