exactions. He could see the beauty of a vase, but not the Protestant
Reformation taking shape beyond the Alps; he paid no attention to a
hundred warnings sent him, but asked for more gold from a nation
already in revolt. He was a glory and a disaster to the Church.
He was the most generous, but not the most enlightened, of
patrons. With all his patronage no great literature arose in his
reign. Ariosto and Machiavelli were beyond him, though he could
appreciate Bembo and Politian. His taste in art was not as sure and
lordly as that of Julius; it was not to him that we owe St. Peter's or
The School of Athens. He loved beautiful form too much, too little
the revealing significance that great art clothes in beautiful form.
He overworked Raphael, underestimated Leonardo, and could not, like
Julius, find a way through Michelangelo's temper to his genius. He
liked comfort too much to be great. It is a pity to judge him so
harshly, for he was lovable.
The age received his name, and perhaps rightly; for though he rather
took than gave its stamp, it was he who brought from Florence to
Rome the Medicean heritage of wealth and taste, the princely patronage
that he had seen in his father's house; and with that wealth, and
papal sanction, he provided an exciting stimulus to such literature
and art as excelled in style and form. His example stirred a hundred
other men to seek out talent, support it, and set northern Europe a
precedent and standard of appreciation and worth. He more than any
other pope protected the remains of classic Rome, and encouraged men
to rival them. He accepted the pagan enjoyment of life, and yet, in
his own conduct, remained remarkably continent in an uninhibited
age. His support of the Roman humanists helped to spread into France
their cultivation of classic literature and form. Under his aegis Rome
became the throbbing heart of European culture; thither the artists
flocked to paint or carve or build, the scholars came to study, the
poets to sing, the men of wit to sparkle. "Before I forget thee,
Rome," wrote Erasmus, "I must plunge into the river of Lethe....
What precious freedom, what treasures in the way of books, what depths
of knowledge among the learned, what beneficial social intercourse!
Where else could one find such literary society, or such versatility
of talent in one and the same place?" `0518105 The gentle Castiglione,
the polished Bembo, the learned Lascaris, Fra Giocondo, Raphael, the