One of the Gothic buildings which struck me most at Padua, was the church of the Eremitani; but rather for the effect of light than for architectural beauty. It is a simple room, without columns or pilasters, and a wooden roof, of no merit. The original light seems to have been a small western circular window, but two side windows have been made since, which were perhaps necessary, but which injure the effect. The walls are adorned with altars, though without recesses: at the end is an apsis or recess for the high altar, which has three very small windows of its own, and this, and the altar itself, are rich with painting and gilding. The pleasing effect of this church suggested to me the idea that a large room like a church might be lighted altogether from one end, and I am convinced it would be highly beautiful. A room 30 feet long, 10 feet wide, and 15 high, is well lighted by a window at the end 4 feet wide, and 8 feet high, and a room of ten times those dimensions, viz. 300 feet long, 100 feet wide, and 150 feet high, would be equally well or better lighted by a window 40 feet wide, and 80 feet high; and it might be larger than this if necessary. The doorway might be under the window, the walls not naked, but with some simple ornament; but the altar and the parts about it should be rich and splendid; a single light, and a single object, are two great advantages.

In the Baptistery, and in the church of the ‘Arena,’ the principal objects are the paintings of Giotto and Giusto; and in the productions of the latter, the relief is very perfect, in spite of the gilding with which as usual in that age, the pictures abound. The Palazzo di Ragione is boasted of as the largest room in Europe without columns; it is about 80 feet wide, and 240 feet long, but what is very singular, not rectangular. The roof is sustained by multitudes of iron ties.

The church of Sta. Giustina is of brick; the external stone casing of the front not having been executed. The outside is almost as ugly as that of St. Anthony, rising up in a number of cupolas, and with one high tower. The first architect was Padre D. Girolamo di Brescia, and the foundations were begun in 1502, but the soil was so loose and marshy, that little progress was made. One hole in particular was so large and deep, that it swallowed up all the materials prepared for the whole edifice. The work, therefore, was suspended till 1521, when it was resumed on a different design, but so as to make use of the old foundations. This was the work of Andrea Crispo, an architect of Padua; and the building was finished in seventy years. The whole length, internally, is 367 geometrical[[35]] feet. The nave is 182 feet long, 35 feet wide, and 82 feet high; the aisles 19 feet wide, and 41 high. The transept is 252 feet long, 39 wide, and 82 high. The piers of the nave are 12 feet square; the whole width of the nave and side aisles is therefore 97 feet, and the chapels are 30 feet long, 20 feet wide, and 40 feet high. The height here attributed to the side aisle is that of the arches connecting the piers of the nave with the side walls, for the disposition is rather that of a series of vaulted recesses opening into the nave, and nearly as high as that is, and communicating with one another by lower arched openings, than a continued aisle. The first thing that struck me was the whitewash, and it is wonderful how much this empty glare can spoil the effect of the finest building. After the first impression of this had passed off, I admired with the rest of the world. The excellence of the building consists, I think, in the great space between the piers, equal to the width of the nave, and the loftiness of the side arches. Two little chapels open into each of the recesses forming the side aisle. These are badly managed, and the details are execrable; but the general disposition has an appearance of space and airiness, which is very magnificent.

The cathedral is a large church of Grecian architecture, built of brick, but intended to receive a stone front, which has not been executed. The plan might be said to consist of two Greek crosses, one beyond the other, of which the farthest from the entrance is the largest. It wants unity.

I rambled by chance into the church of La Madre Dolente. The first part is an oblong room, with a small cupola in the centre rising on four columns; you pass across this, to the inner part of the church, which is circular, and covered with a larger dome, in which groins are made to unite with the arch of entrance, and with those of four semicircular side chapels; in the middle of the room are eight columns, supporting a circular lantern above the dome: the altar stands in the centre; the effect is pleasing, but it would be better if this lantern were larger, and the avenue of approach longer.

The building of the University is one of the show-things of Padua, but it hardly surpasses mediocrity. I went to see the tomb of Antenor, which may be an ancient sarcophagus, but it is placed under an arch of the middle ages, and has a black-letter inscription. I inquired for the house of Livy, but it is destroyed, and for a collection of petrifactions of Vandelli, but they are dispersed.

I did not mention to you the Palazzo Gazzola at Verona, which, however, well deserves commemoration; not for its architecture, but for its contents. It has some good paintings, but its great attraction is the magnificent collection of fossil fishes. The French obliged Count Gazzola to sell to them the finest objects in his possession; but the museum has gained by it instead of losing, for the Count had recourse to the mountain, and procured finer specimens than he ever had before. There is one three feet nine inches long, but not perfect; several quite perfect above three feet long, and the position of the fins and bones shows that the shape has not been destroyed by compression.

I am no connoisseur in paintings; but the quantity of good pictures is so immense, and so scattered in every place, that it is impossible to travel in Italy without attending to them. I have already mentioned many names which are here highly esteemed, and have yet little reputation among us. At Verona and Vicenza, besides Titian and the other great masters of the Venetian school, we meet with admirable paintings of Marone Caroto, Felice Brusasorci, Giolfino, &c.; but here, as everywhere else in Italy, many of the paintings which attract attention are more curious for their antiquity, than valuable for their beauty. The Last Judgment, by Titian, in the town-hall at Vicenza, is said to contain thirteen thousand visible heads, besides a multitude of invisible ones. Walking one day in the church of S. Rocco, I observed a Virgin and Child behind the altar, to which I did not go up, because I took it for one of those painted figures we frequently see in Italian churches; but revisiting the church on another occasion, I discovered that it was an early painting by Bonconsigli, whose perfect relief had thus deceived me. In the church of the Eremitani, in this city, is a beautiful John the Baptist, by Guido, which would have deceived me equally had I not previously known it to be a picture. An exquisite Madonna and Child by Titian, in the sacristy of the cathedral here, produced a similar effect; but I apprehend no merit in the painting is sufficient to give this perfect appearance of relief, unless assisted by a peculiarly favourable light. I do not however mention these as the finest productions I have seen, but merely for this peculiarity. If I once began to descant on the different paintings, I know not where I should conclude; and the observations of one with so little experience, would after all be worth nothing.

LETTER XVIII.
VENICE.

Venice, 15th November, 1816.