A Popular Handbook to the National Gallery, Volume I, Foreign Schools Including by Special Permission Notes Collected from the Works of John Ruskin (part 2 of 4)

A Popular Handbook to the National Gallery, Volume I, Foreign Schools Including by Special Permission Notes Collected from the Works of John Ruskin (part 2 of 4)

Mantegna was born at Padua,[128] and according to Vasari, was originally, like Giotto, a shepherd boy. Like Giotto, too, he early displayed great aptitude for drawing, so much that when only ten years old he was adopted by Squarcione as son and pupil. Squarcione was an indifferent painter, but must have been an able teacher, and it was from him that Mantegna imbibed his love of the antique. It was Squarcione's intention to make him his heir, but Mantegna married a daughter of Jacopo Bellini, Squarcione's rival; "and when this was told to Squarcione he was so much displeased with Andrea that they were ever afterwards enemies." Of Mantegna's association with his brother-in-law, Giovanni Bellini, the pictures numbered 726 and 1417 in this gallery are an interesting record. Mantegna soon obtained recognition. Among the most important of his early works are the frescoes of the chapel of St. James and St. Christopher in the church of the Eremitani at Padua. Copies of some of these may be seen in the Arundel Society's collection. Of about the same date is "The Agony in the Garden," No. 1417. To his early period belong also the "St. George" in the Venice Academy, and the triptych in the Uffizi. The picture now before us, the beautiful "Madonna della Vittoria," and the "Parnassus" of the Louvre belong to a maturer time. In 1466 Mantegna went, at the invitation of the Marquis Ludovico Gonzaga, to the court of Mantua, and there he remained till his death, as painter-in-ordinary at a salary of £30 a year--with the exception of two years spent in painting for Pope Innocent VIII. at Rome. Many of Mantegna's frescoes at Mantua are now obliterated; but some are preserved in the Camera degli Sposi in the Ducal Palace, and in spite of restorations, exhibit some of the master's characteristics in perfection. For the palace of St. Sebastiano at Mantua, he painted in tempera on canvas the "Triumph of Cæsar," now at Hampton Court. Although much defaced, this large composition still proclaims the genius of the master who "loved to resuscitate the ancient world, and render it to the living eye in all its detail, and with all its human interest." The sketch by Rubens in our Gallery, No. 278, was made from a portion of Mantegna's cartoons. In a similar style is the master's "Triumph of Scipio," No. 902, completed shortly before his death. At Rome (1488-1490) he decorated the chapel of the Belvedere, now demolished.

Though in the service of princes, Mantegna knew his worth, and was wont to say that "Ludovico might be proud of having in him something that no other prince in Italy could boast of." He liked, too, to live in the grand style of his age. It appears that he spent habitually more money than he could afford, and after his death his sons had to sell the pictures in his studio for the payment of his creditors. Still more was he a child of his age--the age of the revival of classical learning--in his love for the antique. He spent much of his money in forming a collection of Greek and Roman antiquities, and the forced sale of its chief ornament, a bust of Faustina, is said to have broken his heart. "He was the friend of students, eagerly absorbing the knowledge brought to light by antiquarian research; and thus independently of his high value as a painter, he embodies for us in art that sincere passion for the ancient world which was the dominating intellectual impulse of his age." With Mantegna, classical antiques were not merely the foibles of a collector, but the models of his art. He was "always of opinion," says Vasari, "that good antique statues were more perfect, and displayed more beauty in the different parts, than is exhibited by nature." Of some of his works what Vasari adds is no doubt true--that they recall the idea of stone rather than of living flesh. But Mantegna studied nature closely too; for, as Goethe said of his pictures, "the study of the antique gives form, and nature adds appropriate movement and the health of life." Mantegna died at Mantua and was buried in a chapel of the Church of Sant' Andrea. The expenses incurred by him in founding and decorating this family chapel had added seriously to his embarrassments. "Over his grave was placed a bronze bust, most noble in modelling and perfect in execution. The broad forehead, with its deeply cloven furrows, the stern and piercing eyes, the large lips compressed with nervous energy, the massive nose, the strength of jaw and chin, and the superb clusters of the hair escaping from a laurel-wreath upon the royal head, are such as realise for us our notion of a Roman in the days of the republic. Mantegna's own genius has inspired this masterpiece, which tradition assigns to the medallist Sperando Maglioli. Whoever wrought it must have felt the incubation of the mighty painter's spirit, and have striven to express in bronze the character of his uncompromising art" (Symonds: The Renaissance in Italy, iii. 203). A plaster cast from this bust hangs on one of the staircases in our Gallery. Mantegna's second son, Francesco, who in his father's later years had assisted in his studio, afterwards practised independently. See Nos. 639, 1106, 1381.

"One of the choicest pictures in the National Gallery," exquisite alike in sentiment, in drawing, and in purity of colour. "Being in an admirable state of preservation, it enables us to become acquainted with all the characteristics of Mantegna's style, and above all to enjoy the refinement in his rendering of the human forms, the accuracy in his drawing, the conscientiousness in the rendering of the smallest details" (Richter). For the latter point notice especially the herbage in the foreground. Mantegna, says Mr. Ruskin, is "the greatest leaf-painter of Lombardy," and the "exquisite outlines" here show "the symmetry and precision of his design" (Catalogue of Educational Series, p. 52). The draperies also are "of extraordinary beauty in design and colour. The rose-coloured dress of the Virgin is most delicately heightened with gold, and the draperies of the two saints are of materials shot with changing colours of exquisite harmonies" (Poynter). Very sweet is the expression of mingled humility and tenderness in the mother of the Divine Child. On her right stands St. John the Baptist, the great preacher of repentance; on her left Mary Magdalen, the woman who repented. The Baptist bears a cross and on the scroll attached to it are written the words (in Latin), "Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sins of the world." The Magdalen carries the vase of ointment--the symbol at once of her conversion and her love ("She brought an alabaster box of ointment, and began to wash his feet with tears.... And he said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven"). "Mantegna combines with the most inexhaustible imagination and invention and power, which include the whole range of art, from the most playful fantasy to the profoundest and most passionate tragedy, a skill of workmanship so minutely and marvellously delicate as to defy imitation. Look at the refinement with which the drapery is drawn, the wonderful delicacy of handling with which the gold-lights are laid on, the beautiful and loving spirit which has presided over the execution of the foliage in the background, and indeed of every detail in the picture, and you will begin to have an understanding of what I mean by workmanship as such, and how an artist proceeds whose hand has been thoroughly trained, and who is truly in love with his art" (Poynter's Lectures on Art, p. 127).

275. VIRGIN AND CHILD, ST. JOHN AND AN ANGEL.

Sandro Botticelli (Florentine: 1447-1510). See 1034.

A beautiful and characteristic work.[129] "At first glance you may think the picture a mere piece of affectation. Well--yes, Botticelli is affected in the way that all men of his century necessarily were. Much euphuism, much studied grace of manner, much formal assertion of scholarship, mingling with his force of imagination. And he likes twisting the fingers of hands about"--just as he likes also dancing motion and waved drapery (see 1034) (Mornings in Florence, iii. 59). The picture is characteristic also of two faculties which Botticelli acquired from his early training as a goldsmith: first, his use of gold as a means of enriching the light (as here in the Madonna's hair); and, secondly, the "incomparable invention and delicacy" with which he treated all accessory details and ornaments (as here in the scarves and dresses). But chiefly is the picture characteristic of his "sentiment of ineffable melancholy, of which it is hard to penetrate the sense, and impossible to escape the spell." It may help one in understanding the spirit of such pictures to remember that in Botticelli there met in perfect poise the tenderness of Christian feeling with the grace of the classical Renaissance. He was "a Greek reanimate. The first Greeks were distinguished from the barbarians by their simple humanity; the second Greeks--these Florentine Greeks reanimate--are human more strongly, more deeply, leaping from the Byzantine death at the call of Christ, 'Loose him, and let him go.' And there is upon them at once the joy of resurrection and the solemnity of the grave"[130] (Ariadne Florentina, § 161; and Fors Clavigera, 1872, xxii.).

276. TWO APOSTLES.

School of Giotto. See under 568. See also (p. xix)

Here's Giotto with his Saints a-praising God, That set us praising.

BROWNING.

These solemn heads seem to breathe the very spirit of the master; but the history of the painting forbids the supposition that we have here the handiwork, or even the direct influence of Giotto. It is a fragment from one of the wall-paintings in the chapel of St. John the Baptist in the church of S. Maria del Carmine at Florence. The frescoes were not executed till 1350, some years after the death of Giotto. The subject of the composition to which our fragment belongs was the burial of the Baptist. The history of these frescoes is typical of that of many a vicissitude, and recalls the idea suggested in one of Browning's Dramatic Lyrics, in which the soul of the painter watches the gradual decay and dispersal of his life's work:--

Wherever a fresco peals and drops, Wherever an outline weakens and wanes Till the latest life in the painting stops, Stands One whom each fainter pulse-tick pains: One, wishful each scrap should clutch the brick, Each tinge, not wholly escape the plaster, --A lion who dies of an ass's kick, The wronged great soul of an ancient Master.

This and two portions from other paintings of the series, now in the institution at Liverpool, were saved from the fire which destroyed this chapel in 1771, and became the property of Mr. Thomas Patch, the engraver. They were brought to England by Mr. Townley. This fragment was subsequently in the collection of the Right Hon. C. Greville, from whom it passed into the possession of Mr. Rogers, and at the sale of his pictures in 1856 was purchased for the National Gallery. Some other fragments are preserved in the Cappella dell' Ammannati, in the Campo Santo at Pisa, and one is in the town gallery at Pavia.

277. THE GOOD SAMARITAN.

Bassano (Venetian: 1510-1592). See 173.

The wounded Jew, who had fallen among thieves, is beneath the shadow of a great rock. The Levite is behind, engaged in sanctimonious prayer. The good Samaritan is busy in good works. He has brought out his flask and is raising the Jew to place him on his mule. The picture is of additional interest as having been a favourite with Sir Joshua Reynolds, to whom it once belonged, and who is said to have kept it always in his studio. It was afterwards in the collection of Samuel Rogers.

278. THE TRIUMPH OF JULIUS CÆSAR.

Rubens (Flemish: 1577-1640). See 38.

One of the fruits of Rubens's visit to Italy. This picture was in Rubens's possession at his death, and is described in the inventory as "Three cloathes pasted upon bord, beinge the Triumph of Julius Cæsar, after Andrew Mantegna, not full made." Mantegna's procession (somewhat similar to the Triumph of Scipio, No. 902) was painted for the Duke of Mantua, and is now at Hampton Court.

Any one who cares to see by a single illustration what "classic purity of style" means, should compare Mantegna's original with this transcript by Rubens. "The Flemish painter strives to add richness to the scene by Bacchanalian riot and the sensuality of imperial Rome. His elephants twist their trunks, and trumpet to the din of cymbals; negroes feed the flaming candelabra with scattered frankincense; the white oxen of Clitumnus are loaded with gaudy flowers, and the dancing maidens are dishevelled Mænads. But the rhythmic procession of Mantegna, modulated to the sound of flutes and soft recorders, carries our imagination back to the best days and strength of Rome. His priests and generals, captives and choric women, are as little Greek as they are modern. In them awakes to a new life the spirit-quelling energy of the Republic. The painter's severe taste keeps out of sight the insolence and orgies of the Empire; he conceives Rome as Shakespeare did in Coriolanus"[131] (Symonds's Renaissance, iii. 200).

279. THE HORRORS OF WAR.

Rubens (Flemish: 1577-1640). See 38.

"Mars, leaving the temple of Janus[132] open, is held back by Venus, while Europe bewails the inevitable miseries of war; but he is drawn on by the Fury Alecto, who is preceded by Plague and Famine; the figure on the ground with the broken lute represents Concord overthrown. Mars and the two female figures behind him are said to be the portraits of Rubens and his two wives" (Official Catalogue).

This is a sketch of the large picture painted by Rubens in 1637 for his friend Sustermans, and now in the Pitti palace at Genoa. This sketch, with the preceding one, was in the collection of Mr. Rogers, where Ruskin saw it, as recorded in the following extract from his autobiography, in which he describes "a lesson given to me by George Richmond at one of Mr. Rogers's breakfasts (the old man used to ask me, finding me always reverent to him, joyful in his pictures, and sometimes amusing, as an object of curiosity to his guests), date uncertain, but probably in 1842":--

Until that year, Rubens had remained the type of colour power to me, and Titian's flesh tints of little worth! But that morning, as I was getting talkative over the wild Rubens's sketch (War or Discord, or Victory or the Furies, I forget what), Richmond said, pointing to the Veronese beneath it, "Why are you not looking at this--so much greater in manner?" "Greater--how?" I asked, in surprise; "it seems to me quite tame beside the Rubens." "That may be," said Richmond, "but the Veronese is true, the other wildly conventional." "In what way true?" I asked, still not understanding. "Well," said Richmond, "compare the pure shadows on the flesh in Veronese, and its clear edge, with Rubens's ochre and vermilion, and outline of asphalt" (Praeterita, ii. 181).

280. THE MADONNA OF THE POMEGRANATE.

Giovanni Bellini (Venetian: 1426-1516). See 189.

A prophetic sense of the Saviour's sufferings is signified by the symbol of the pomegranate--

Pomegranate, which, if cut deep down the middle, Shows a heart within blood-tinctured, of a veined humanity.

MRS. BROWNING: Lady Geraldine's Courtship.

Years pass and change; mother and child remain. Mother so proudly sad, so sadly wise, With perfect face and wonderful calm eyes, Full of a mute expectancy of pain: Child of whose love the mother seems so fain, Looking far off, as if in other skies He saw the hill of crucifixion rise, And knew the horror, and would not refrain.

Love in Idleness (1883).

This picture, which is signed by the painter, probably dates from 1485-88.

281. ST. JEROME READING.

Marco Basaiti (Venetian: painted 1500-1521).

Basaiti--born in Friuli; according to some writers, of Greek parents--was assistant to Alvise Vivarini. He was one of the early Venetian painters in oils. His works when well preserved are (says Sir F. Burton) brilliant in colour, and display great ability in the general management of the accessories, especially in the landscape backgrounds, which, according to Zanetti, he contrived to unite with his figures more skilfully than his contemporaries.

The scenery, says Gilbert (Cadore, p. 42), is that of Serravalle in Titian's country--Serravalle, "the true gate of the hills," with walls and towers rising steeply on the hill-side. The way in which the old masters thus consigned their saints and anchorites to the hill-country is very typical of the mediæval view of landscape. "The idea of retirement from the world for the sake of self-mortification ... gave to all mountain solitude at once a sanctity and a terror, in the mediæval mind, which were altogether different from anything that it had possessed in the un-Christian periods.... Just in so much as it appeared necessary for the noblest men to retire to the hill-recesses before their missions could be accomplished, or their spirit perfected, in so far did the daily world seem by comparison to be pronounced profane and dangerous; and to those who loved that world and its work, the mountains were thus voiceful with perpetual rebuke.... And thousands of hearts, which might otherwise have felt that there was loveliness in the wild landscape, shrank from it in dread, because they knew that the monk retired to it for penance, and the hermit for contemplation" (Modern Painters, vol. iii. pt. iv. ch. xiv. § 10).

282. THE GLORIFICATION OF THE VIRGIN.

Bertucci (Umbrian: 16th Century).

Formerly ascribed in the Official Catalogue to Lo Spagna (for whom see under 1032); by other critics attributed to Giovanni Battista of Faenza, called Bertucci (the monkey), an artist who borrowed both from the Umbrian School and from Lorenzo Costa. The similarity between this picture and No. 629, by the latter artist, especially in the playing angels at the foot of the throne, is remarkable (see Richter's Italian Art in the National Gallery, p. 52). Works by Bertucci are to be seen in the picture gallery of Faenza.

The little angels are very pretty. Notice the three peering out from under the Virgin's robe. On the marble platform below one angel plays a white-headed pipe; the other, a six-stringed rebec, which is very accurately represented.

283. VIRGIN AND CHILD ENTHRONED.

Benozzo Gozzoli (Florentine: 1420-1498).

Benozzo Gozzoli was the favourite pupil of the "angelical painter," Fra Angelico. From him Benozzo borrowed the devotion in his pictures, the bent of his own mind being altogether different. It must be remembered that "in nearly all the great periods of art the choice of subject has not been left to the painter; ... and his own personal feelings are ascertainable only by watching, in the themes assigned to him, what are the points in which he seems to take most pleasure. Thus in the prolonged ranges of varied subjects with which Benozzo Gozzoli decorated the cloisters of Pisa, it is easy to see that love of simple domestic incident, sweet landscape, and glittering ornament, prevails slightly over the solemn elements of religious feeling, which, nevertheless, the spirit of the age instilled into him in such measure as to form a very lovely and noble mind, though still one of the second order" (Modern Painters, vol. iii. pt. iv. ch. iii. § 8). The earlier works of Benozzo are entirely in Fra Angelico's manner. His later style (of which an example may be seen in No. 591) presents the greatest contrast to that master; for Benozzo is "the first of all the Florentine painters who seem to have been smitten with the beauty of the natural world and its various appearances. His later pictures overflow with the delighted sense of this beauty. He was the first to create rich landscape backgrounds, with cities, villas, and trees, rivers, and richly-cultivated valleys, bold rocks and hills. He displays the richest fancy for architectural forms,--open porticoes, elegant arcades, and balconies. In the representation of the human figure, we find gaiety and whim, feeling and dignity, in the happiest combination" (Layard). Like other painters of the time Benozzo began his career as a worker in metal, and his name is found amongst the artificers who assisted Ghiberti in making the celebrated gates for the Baptistery at Florence. He next entered the school of Fra Angelico, accompanying his master to Rome and Orvieto. In 1459 he was employed to decorate the walls of the small chapel in the Medici, now Riccardi Palace, and here he first gave rein to his own fancies. Copies from these frescoes are included in the Arundel Society's collection, as well as from those in the church of S. Agostino at S. Gimignano, where Benozzo was next employed. The chief work of his life was, however, the painting of the Campo Santo at Pisa. This occupied him from 1469-1485. Twenty-one of the frescoes were by his own hand. They are much injured; for "when any dignitary of Pisa was to be buried, they peeled off some Benozzo Gozzoli and put up a nice new tablet to the new defunct" (Praeterita, vol. ii. ch. vi., where Ruskin gives a charming account of happy days spent in copying Benozzo's work). These frescoes are remarkable for their wealth of fancy and picturesque detail. The Pisans themselves were so well pleased that they presented the painter in 1478 with a tomb, that his body might repose amidst the great works of his life. He died at Pisa twenty years later.

This was a picture painted very much to order. The figure of the Virgin was specially directed--so it appears from the original contract, dated 1461, still in existence--to be made similar in mode, form, and ornaments to one by Fra Angelico, now in the Florentine Academy, and it was also stipulated that "the said Benozzo shall at his own cost diligently gild the said panel throughout, both as regards figures and ornaments." The prices paid for such commissions in those days may be judged from the fact that in the case of his great frescoes at Pisa, Benozzo contracted to paint three a year for 10 ducats each (= say £100). As for Benozzo's own personal feelings, it is easy to see with what pleasure he put in the pretty flowers in the foreground for St. Francis, and the sweet-faced angels behind the throne, and with what gusto he shot the gold in their draperies. The figure on our extreme left is St. Zenobius. His embroidered cope is very rich. The details of needlework in the picture will well repay careful study. Compared with all this, the kneeling St. Jerome and St. Francis and the other saints appear somewhat perfunctory. Notice, too, the bright goldfinches on the alabaster steps, introduced, we may suppose, in honour of

Sweet St. Francis of Assisi, would that he were here again! He that in his Catholic wholeness used to call the very flowers Sisters, brothers--and the beasts--whose pains are hardly less than ours!

284. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Bartolommeo Vivarini (Venetian: painted 1450-1499).

Bartolommeo Vivarini of Murano was the younger brother of Antonio (see 768), with whom he began to work in partnership in 1450--as is shown by the inscription on the great altar-piece by the two brothers, now in the Pinacoteca of Bologna. Bartolommeo appears to have studied at Padua, and the influence of Squarcione is manifest in the painter's striving after correctness of form. "The ornate character of his altar-pieces, with gold heightening, garlands of fruit and flowers and fluttering fillets, is also borrowed from the Paduans, and lends festal pomp and solemnity to the whole."

Of Bartolommeo Vivarini it is recorded that he painted (in 1473) the first oil picture that was exhibited in Venice. This one, however, is in tempera. "The figures in Bartolommeo's pictures are still hard in outline,--thin (except the Madonna's throat, which always in Venice, is strong as a pillar), and much marked in sinew and bone (studied from life, mind you, not by dissection); exquisitely delicate and careful in pure colour;--in character portraits of holy men and women, such as then were. There is no idealism here whatever. Monks and nuns had indeed faces and mien like these saints, when they desired to have the saints painted for them" (Guide to the Venetian Academy, p. 6).

285. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Francesco Morone (Veronese: 1473-1529).

Francesco is one of the best masters in the earlier style of the Veronese School. He was the son of Domenico Morone (1211), the friend and fellow-worker of Girolamo dai Libri (748) and the master of Morando (735). His works are rarely to be seen out of Verona, but the present picture is characteristic. At Verona, his best work in fresco is to be seen in the decoration of the sacristry of S. Maria in Organo, described by Vasari. Among his altar-pieces, one in the same church and another in S. Bernardino are specially noteworthy. "There is," says Sir F. Burton, "something peculiarly winning in the type chosen for the Madonna by this painter. The small, round, delicately-featured head, slightly thrown back, so that the eyes are cast down towards the worshipper, conveys a mingled impression of sweetness and dignity. The finish of his easel pictures is remarkable; the eye is delighted by the intricate variegation of costly stuffs, where numerous tints broken together resemble what nature has wrought on the wings of some moths and butterflies. Such broken surfaces give additional value to the masses of whole colour where these more sparingly appear." "That the artist himself was of a harmless, lovable nature is evident from his will which we still possess, and Vasari's judgment is to the same effect when he calls him 'so good a man, so religious and so orderly that no word which was not a praiseworthy one was ever known to proceed from his mouth'" (Richter). Vasari adds that he was "buried in the church of San Domenico beside his father, and was borne to his grave clothed as he had desired to be, in the vestments of a monk of San Francesco."

"A youthful production, in which glowing colour, delicately balanced, is combined with fine drawing and powerful modelling. Characteristic are the regular oval of the Madonna's head and the look of simplicity and charm which breathes in the features" (Dr. Richter in Art Journal, Feb. 1895).

286. VIRGIN AND CHILD.

Francesco Tacconi (Cremonese: painted 1464-1490).

The only signed picture by this painter still in existence. He was a native of Cremona and worked there: he and his brother pleased the Cremonese so much by painting in the Town Hall that the artists were given an exemption from taxes. But he may be classed as a Venetian, for he was an imitator of Giovanni Bellini. This picture at once recalls Bellini's No. 280, and is in fact a copy of a Madonna by that painter in the Chiesa degli Scalzi at Venice.

287. LUDOVICO MARTINENGO.

Bartolommeo Veneziano (painted 1505-1530).

The Martinengo family seems to have patronised this painter, as the Senator Count Martinengo, of Venice, possesses as an heirloom a small picture by the master which is signed "Bartolommeo mezzo Veneziano e mezzo Cremonese." The present picture (dated 1530) is signed "Bartolom. Venetus," so that he was perhaps a Cremonese by birth and a Venetian by artistic training, being probably a pupil of Giovanni Bellini (see Morelli's Italian Works in German Galleries, p. 138).

A portrait of a young man, at the age of twenty-six (as the inscription tells us), in the costume of the Campagnia della Calza (the guild of the stocking).

288. THE VIRGIN AND CHILD, MICHAEL AND RAPHAEL.

Pietro Perugino[133] (Umbrian: 1446-1523).

Pietro Vannucci, a native of Castello della Pieve, was called Perugino, from the town of which he afterwards became a citizen. His earliest master was probably Fiorenzo di Lorenzo, and he is known to have also worked under Piero della Francesca. Afterwards he went to Florence, where, it is said, he studied with Leonardo da Vinci under the sculptor Verrocchio. There is, however, no trace of any such discipleship in his works, which, on the contrary, show an untouched development of native Umbrian art, so that Perugino becomes the typical representative of what Ruskin calls the "purist ideal." It is probable that his first visit to Florence was not paid till he was already established in independent practice. "He there remained," says Vasari, "for many months without even a bed to lie on, and miserably took his sleep upon a chest; but, turning night into day, and labouring without intermission, he devoted himself most fervently to the study of his profession." And in time he became himself a famous master, with Raphael for his pupil, and "he attained to such a height of reputation that his works were dispersed, not only through Florence and all over Italy, but in France, Spain, and other countries." He was himself too of a roving disposition, and he multiplied his engagements beyond his power of fulfilling them. In 1475 he received his first public commission at Perugia, but the frescoes then painted for the Palazzo Communale have perished. In 1480 he was employed by the Pope Sixtus IV., together with Signorelli and Botticelli, to cover the walls of the Sixtine Chapel with frescoes. Of the four allotted to Perugino (which occupied him in part for six years) three were afterwards destroyed to make room for Michael Angelo's "Last Judgment"; the fourth, the "Delivery of the Keys to St. Peter," remains. Perugino's subsequent movements are not easy to follow,[134] and we can only here allude to some of his most famous works. In 1494 he was at Venice, and in the same year painted his very beautiful altar-piece in S. Agostino at Cremona. In 1495 he contracted to paint for the monks of Cassino the noble Assumption now at Lyons. In 1496 he painted for the Cathedral of Perugia, the famous "Sposalizio," now at Caen. To the same period in his career belongs the picture now before us, painted for the Certosa of Pavia. Down to about 1493, Perugino's easel pictures were executed in tempera (see 181); he then adopted the new oil medium, which he used to such splendid effect in richness of colour. In 1499 he was at Perugia, engaged upon the beautiful frescoes in the Hall of the Bankers (Collegio del Cambio). He was afterwards in Florence, but in 1505 returned to Perugia, where in 1507 he painted the altar-piece, No. 1075 in our gallery. In his later years he erected a large studio in which several scholars were employed to execute commissions from his designs, and the works of this period show considerable inequality of execution, as well as repetition of design, and some falling off in richness of colouring. According to Vasari's gossip Perugino was very careful of his money--as one who had seen such hard times might well be; would only paint for cash down, and on all his wanderings carried his money box with him. "When it is fair weather," he used to say, "a man must build his house, that he may be under shelter when he most needs it." It was not, however, till middle life that he did literally build himself a house. At the same time he married a very beautiful girl, and is said to have had so much pleasure in seeing her wear becoming head-dresses that he would spend hours together in arranging that part of her toilet with his own hands. There is a tradition that she was the model for the angel who accompanies Tobias in our picture. The master was still painting in his 77th year, and was engaged on a fresco at Frontignano (now in this gallery, No. 1441), when he was carried off by the plague. The most famous of his pupils was Raphael; among the rest, the most accomplished were Giovanni lo Spagna (1032), and Giannicola Manni (1194).

Perugino's work is well represented in the National Gallery, and its several characteristics are pointed out under the pictures themselves (cf. especially 181 and 1075). He was, as we have said, the typical representative of the purist ideal. His technical supremacy set the seal of perfection upon pietistic art, and the masterpiece before us is unique for its combination of warmth of colour, with the expression of religious fervour. "What this artist seems to have aimed at, was to create for the soul, amid the pomps and passions of this world, a resting-place of contemplation tenanted by saintly and seraphic beings." Of his life as reflected in his work, Ruskin gives this summary: "A sound craftsman and workman to the very heart's core. A noble, gracious, and quiet labourer from youth to death,--never weary, never impatient, never untender, never untrue. Not Tintoret in power, not Raphael in flexibility, not Holbein in veracity, not Luini in love,--their gathered gifts he has, in balanced and fruitful measure, fit to be the guide, and impulse, and father of all" (Ariadne Florentina, § 72). But Perugino, like the times in which he lived, presents a study in contradictions. This idealist painted his portrait in the Sala del Cambio; it is an unsurpassed piece of realism, and the hard, unsympathetic features do not belie, but rather win credence for Vasari's tales about his sordid soul. He never deviated in his art from the pietistic path he had chosen; but according to Vasari[135] (whose statements on this point are supported by some other evidence), he was himself an unbeliever, and on his death-bed rejected the last sacraments. In his art he is essentially a quietist. He is not successful when he represents action or movement. His ideal is of quiet rapture, and sacred peace. But the criminal records of Florence prove that he was not over-scrupulous to keep his hands from violence, and in the civil courts he pursued Michael Angelo with equal indiscretion and ill-success for defamation of character. His pictures reflect the landscape, but not the fortunes, of his native country: that the quietism of Perugino "should have been fashionable in Perugia, while the Baglioni were tearing each other to pieces, and the troops of the Vitelli and the Borgia were trampling upon Umbria, is one of the most striking paradoxes of an age rich in dramatic contradictions" (Symonds's Renaissance, iii. 218).

One of the most valuable pictures in the Gallery alike for its own beauty and for its interest in the history of art. For Perugino is the final representative of the old superstitious art, just as Michael Angelo and Raphael (in his later manners) were the first representatives of the modern scientific and anatomical art; the epithet bestowed on Perugino by Michael Angelo, goffo nell' arte (dunce, or blockhead, in art), shows how trenchant the separation is between these two forms of artists. One may notice, then, in this picture as a perfect example of the earlier art: First, that everything in it is dainty and delightful, and all that it attempts is accomplished. Michael Angelo, dashing off his impetuous thoughts, left much of his work half done (see 790); Perugino worked steadily in the old ways and indeed repeated ideas with so little reflection that, according to Vasari, he was blamed for doing the same thing over and over again. But everything is finished, even to the gilding of single hairs. Notice also the beautiful painting of the fish.[136] Secondly, it is a work in the school of colour, as distinguished from the school of light and shade. "Clear, calm, placid, perpetual vision, far and near; endless perspicuity of space, unfatigued veracity of eternal light, perfectly accurate delineation of every leaf on the trees and every flower in the fields" (notice especially in the foreground the "blue flower fit for paradise" of the central compartment). "There is no darkness, no wrong. Every colour is lovely, and every space is light. The world, the universe, is divine; all sadness is a part of harmony; and all gloom a part of peace." In connection with the lovely blue in the picture (which was painted in 1494-98 for the Certosa of Pavia), one may remember the story told of an earlier picture, how the prior of the convent for which Perugino was painting doled out to him the costly colour of ultramarine, and how Perugino, by constantly washing his brushes, obtained a surreptitious hoard of the colour, which he ultimately restored to shame the prior for his suspicions. Thirdly, in its rendering of landscape, the picture is characteristic of the "purism" of older art as compared with the later "naturalism." "The religious painters impress on their landscape perfect symmetry and order, such as may seem, consistent with the spiritual nature they would represent. The trees grow straight, equally branched on each side, and of slight and feathery frame. The mountains stand up unscathed; the waters are always waveless, the skies always calm."[137] Notice also that the sentiment of the whole picture is like its landscape; there is no striving, nor crying, no convulsive action; it is all one "pure passage of intense feeling and heavenly light, holy and undefiled, glorious with the changeless passion of eternity--sanctified with shadeless peace." Notice lastly, how in this, as in many sacred compositions, "a living symmetry, the balance of harmonious opposites, is one of the profoundest sources of their power. The Madonna of Perugino in the National Gallery, with the angel Michael on one side and Raphael on the other, is as beautiful an example as you can have" (Elements of Drawing, p. 258). The subject of the right-hand compartment is Raphael and Tobias (for which see 781); that of the left-hand one is "the orderer of Christian warfare, Michael the Archangel; not Milton's 'with hostile brow and visage all inflamed'; not even Milton's in kingly treading of the hills of Paradise; not Raphael's with expanded wings and brandished spear; but Perugino's with his triple crest of traceless plume unshaken in heaven, his hand fallen on his crossleted sword, the truth-girdle binding his undinted armour; God has put his power upon him, resistless radiance is on his limbs; no lines are there of earthly strength, no trace on the divine features of earthly anger; trustful and thoughtful, fearless, but full of love, incapable except of the repose of eternal conquest, vessel and instrument of Omnipotence, filled like a cloud with the victor light, the dust of principalities and powers beneath his feet, the murmur of hell against him heard by his spiritual ear like the winding of a shell on the far-off sea-shore." He is thus armed as the orderer of Christian warfare against evil; in his other character, as lord of souls, he has the scales which hang on a tree by his side (Ariadne Florentina, pp. 40, 265, 266; On the Old Road, i. § 529; Modern Painters, vol. ii. pt. iii. sec. i. ch. x. § 4; sec. ii. ch. v. § 20.)

289. "THE NIGHT WATCH."

Gerrit Lundens (Dutch: 1622-1677).

This is a copy, on a greatly reduced scale, of the famous picture by Rembrandt (painted in 1642), now in the State-Museum at Amsterdam. It is of interest as showing the pristine condition of its great original, which in the earlier part of the eighteenth century was maltreated on all four sides, and thereby shorn of some of its figures in order to suit the dimensions of a room to which it was at that time removed. The picture had so darkened by time or neglect, that it came to be called "The Night Watch." The real subject is the march out of a company of the Amsterdam Musketeers from their Headquarters' Hall, under the command of their captain, Frans Banning Cocq, who is seen advancing in the centre and giving orders to his lieutenant. The principal figures are all portraits, and the names were written on the back of the picture. Our copy was painted for Cocq himself, and after many vicissitudes reached England at the beginning of the nineteenth century.

290. A MAN'S PORTRAIT (dated 1432).

Jan van Eyck (Early Flemish: about 1390-1440). See 186.

A portrait of a friend of the artist, for it is inscribed "Leal Souvenir"--and a true recollection it obviously is, and was the more acceptable, one likes to think, for being so. "It is not the untrue imaginary Picture of a man and his work that I want, ... but the actual natural Likeness, true as the face itself, nay, truer in a sense, Which the Artist, if there is one, might help to give, and the Botcher never can" (Carlyle, Friedrich).

291. PORTRAIT OF A GIRL.

Lucas Cranach (German: 1472-1553).

Lucas Sunder (or possibly Müller), called Cranach from his native place, was one of the chief of the German painters,--after Dürer, the most famous artist of his day. He was the close friend of Martin Luther, whose features he several times represented. He may indeed be called the painter of the German Reformation, and in his later works the reformed doctrines receive symbolical illustration. The influences of the Renaissance were also at work in his art, as may be seen in his classical subjects. He was fond also of drawing birds and animals, and he often depicted hunting scenes. These he rendered with a realism of effect which won the admiration of his princely employers. It was, however, as a portrait-painter that he was chiefly employed. His engravings were also very numerous. In the lower left-hand corner of the picture before us, a crowned serpent will be noticed. This was the arms granted to him in 1508 by the Elector of Saxony, and it superseded his initials on all his pictures after that date. Of Cranach's earlier years, little is known. In 1504 he was established at Wittenburg as court-painter to Frederick the Wise, a post which he occupied under the next two Electors as well. He was a man of importance at Wittenburg, for he was twice mayor of the town, and carried on there, besides large art workshops, a book-printing business and an apothecary's shop. He was also employed in diplomatic missions, and when the Elector Frederick the Magnanimous was in captivity at Augsburg, Cranach was instrumental in procuring his release from the Emperor Charles V., whose portrait had in earlier years been taken by our painter.

"His female portraits have a sort of naïve grace that renders them very pleasing. There is one in the National Gallery, of a young girl in elaborate costume, which is entirely characteristic" (Bryan's Dictionary of Painters).

292. MARTYRDOM OF ST. SEBASTIAN.

Antonio Pollajuolo (Florentine: 1429-1498).

This picture is expressly ascribed by Vasari to Antonio alone. On the other hand, Albertini, an earlier authority (1510), ascribes it to Piero, the younger brother of Antonio. It is known that many pictures were the joint production of both brothers--Antonio furnishing the design, and Piero putting it into colour. "In the 'St. Sebastian,'" says Sir F. Burton, "we probably have a work so produced; the severe and strenuous drawing of the elder brother, the sculptor and toreuta by profession, is visible throughout; whether he shared in the painting, and if he did, to what extent, may remain an open question."

Antonio Pollajuolo (the "poulterer,"--so called from his grandfather's trade) is an interesting man from two points of view: first, as an instance of the union of the arts in old times; for he was a working goldsmith and engraver as well as a sculptor and painter. He took to painting comparatively late in life, desiring, says Vasari, "for his labour a more enduring memory" than belongs to works of the goldsmith's art; "and his brother Piero being a painter, he joined himself to him for the purpose of learning the modes of proceeding in painting. He acquired a knowledge in the course of a few months and became an excellent master." He became, indeed, an excellent draughtsman, but "neither harmony of colours nor grace was the strong point of this master" (Morelli's Italian Masters in German Galleries, p. 351). In 1484 Antonio was invited to Rome by Pope Innocent VIII., and executed some important monumental works in St. Peter's. His brother died in 1496; Antonio, two years later. The two brothers were buried in S. Pietro in Vincoli, where busts of them may be seen. Antonio is interesting, in the second place, for the developments he introduced into Italian painting. He was one of the first of the Florentines to adopt an oil medium, and the first (says Vasari) who had recourse to the dissection of the dead subject. To him, therefore, Ruskin attributes a baleful influence. "The virtual beginner of artistic anatomy in Italy was a man called 'the poulterer'--Pollajuolo, a man of immense power, but on whom the curse of the Italian mind in this age was set at its deepest. See the horrible picture of St. Sebastian by him in our National Gallery." He was the beginner of those anatomical studies, continues Ruskin, which, pursued and established by later masters, "polluted their work with the science of the sepulchre, and degraded it with presumptuous and paltry technical skill. Foreshorten your Christ, and paint Him, if you can, half-putrefied--that is the scientific art of the Renaissance" (Ariadne Florentina, Appendix IV.).

How popular this "scientific art" was in its day may be seen from the following enthusiastic account which Vasari gives of this picture:--

A remarkable and admirably executed work, with numerous horses, many undraped figures, and singularly beautiful foreshortenings. This picture likewise contains the portrait of St. Sebastian himself, taken from the life--from the face of Gino di Ludovico Capponi, that is. The painting has been more extolled than any other ever executed by Antonio. He has evidently copied nature in this work to the utmost of his power, as we perceive more particularly in one of the archers, who, bending towards the earth, and resting his weapon against his breast, is employing all the force of a strong arm to prepare it for action; the veins are swelling, the muscles strained, and the man holds his breath as he applies all his strength to the effort. Nor is this the only figure executed with care; all the others are likewise well done, and in the diversity of their attitudes give clear proof of the artist's ability and of the labour bestowed by him on his work; all which was fully acknowledged by Antonio Pucci, who gave him three hundred scudi for the picture, declaring at the same time that he was barely paying him for the colours. This work was completed in the year 1475.

The dominant motive in the picture is, it will be seen, interest in the mechanism of the human body; notice especially the muscles of the executioners' legs and their efforts in stretching their bows. There are, however, other points worthy of notice. "The work is not less remarkable for the extent and variety of the landscape, and for the sense of aerial, as distinct from mere linear, perspective. Instead of standing up like a wall behind the figures it appears to recede to the horizon, as in nature. The study of the remains of classical art also is betrayed by the introduction of one of the Roman monumental arches in the background. The groups of soldiers and horses introduced at different distances further attest the variety of the designers' interests" (Monkhouse: In the National Gallery, 1894, p. 77).

293. VIRGIN AND CHILD: STS. JEROME AND DOMINIC.

Filippino Lippi (Florentine: 1457-1504).

Filippo Lippi, the younger (called "Filippino" to distinguish him from his father), was the son of Fra Filippo Lippi (see 666), and the nun, Lucrezia Buti. In his will, Filippino left an annual provision of corn, wine, oil, and other necessaries to his beloved mother Lucrezia, daughter of Francesco Buti. There is perhaps no other case in art-history of father and son attaining such nearly equal excellence as did the two Lippis. Owing to his father's death when Filippino was still a boy, the latter became the pupil of Botticelli, and so good a pupil was he that the critics are often in doubt, as explained in the footnote, to which master to ascribe pictures.[138] The genius of Filippino seems to have been the more gentle, that of Botticelli the more impetuous. The grace and charm of Filippino are nowhere better shown than in the "Vision of St. Bernard," in the church of the Badia at Florence--a work executed when he was about 23. A copy of it is in the Arundel Society's collection. The pictures in our Gallery which are indubitably by Filippino (namely, this picture and 927), show the same quiet beauty. Filippino was also employed upon important frescoes--in the Branacci Chapel, in Sta Maria Novella, and (at Rome) in Sta Maria Sopra Minerva; in these works he shows great skill in composition, appropriate action, and refined feeling. Filippino lived a busy and a blameless life; and the peace and beauty of his pictures were a reflection of his character. "Having been ever courteous, obliging, and friendly, Filippino was lamented," says Vasari, "by all who had known him, but more particularly by the youth of Florence, his native city; and when his funeral procession was passing through the streets, the shops were closed, as is done for the most part at the funerals of princes only."

This picture is identified by the arms of the Rucellai family below, as the one described by Vasari as "executed in the church of San Pancrazio for the chapel of the Rucellai family." After the suppression of the church, it was removed to the Palazzo Rucellai until it was purchased for the National Gallery.

294. THE FAMILY OF DARIUS.

Paolo Veronese (Veronese: 1528-1588). See 260.

This picture--"the most precious Paul Veronese," says Ruskin, "in the world"--is, according to another critic, "in itself a school of art, where every quality of the master is seen in perfection--his stately male figures, his beautiful women, his noble dog, and even his favourite monkey, his splendid architecture, gem-like colour, tones of gold and silver, sparkling and crisp touch, marvellous facility of hand and unrivalled power of composition."[139] The glowing colour is what strikes one first; and next the dignity, life, and ease of the principal persons represented. It is a splendid example too of what the historical pictures of the old masters were. The scene represented is that of the Macedonian conqueror, Alexander the Great, surrounded by his generals, receiving the submission of the family of the defeated Persian King Darius; but in his treatment of the scene, Veronese makes it a piece of contemporary Venetian life.

"It is a constant law that the greatest men, whether poets or historians, live entirely in their own age.... Dante paints Italy in the thirteenth century; Chaucer, England in the fourteenth; Masaccio, Florence in the fifteenth; Tintoret, Venice in the sixteenth;--all of them utterly regardless of anachronism and minor error of every kind, but getting always vital truth out of the vital present.... Tintoret and Shakespeare paint, both of them, simply Venetian and English nature as they saw it in their time, down to the root; and it does for all time; but as for any care to cast themselves into the particular ways and tones of thought or custom of past time in their historical work, you will find it in neither of them, nor in any other perfectly great man that I know of" (Modern Painters, vol. iii. pt. iv. ch. vii. §§ 19, 20).

Thus here Veronese simply paints a group of living Venetians of his time,[140] dog,[141] monkey and all. Alexander, in red armour, is pointing to his friend Hephaestion, who stands a little behind on his left, and whom the captives had at first mistaken for the king. The queen-mother implores his pardon, but Alexander tells her that she has not erred, for that Hephaestion is another Alexander. The principal figures representing these different characters are, however, all contemporary portraits of the Pisani family,[142] it is said, for whom the picture was painted, and in choosing this scene of Alexander in one of his best moments Veronese was expressing his ideal of Venetian nobility and refinement. "The greatest portrait painters," says Ruskin,--"Titian, Veronese, Velazquez, and Raphael,--introduce the most trenchant, clear, and complete backgrounds. Indeed, the first three so rejoiced in quantity of accessories, that, when engaged on important portraits, they would paint large historical pictures merely by way of illustration or introduction. The priceless Veronese, 'The Triumph of Alexander,' was painted only to introduce portraits of the Pisani; and chiefly to set off to the best advantage the face of one fair girl" (Academy Notes, 1857, p. 37). So too the dresses to which the picture owes so much of its splendour, are the Venetian dresses of the period. It may be interesting to remark that something of the magnificence in the picture itself attaches also to the circumstances of its painting. Veronese having been detained by some accident at the Pisani Villa at Este, painted this work there, and left it behind him, sending word that he had left wherewithal to defray the expense of his entertainment. As the Pisani family ultimately sold it to the National Gallery in 1857 for £13,650, Veronese's words were decidedly made good. It may be interesting to add that the negotiations for its purchase extended over nearly four years. Vast sums had been offered for the picture in former centuries, and within the previous thirty years sovereigns, public bodies, and individuals had all been competing for it.

Some of the fame of the picture is due to its splendid preservation. Rumohr speaks of it as "perhaps the only existing criterion by which to estimate the original colouring of Paul Veronese." "The lakes, for instance, in the crimson cuirass and dress of Alexander, which form such a magnificent feature in the composition, are," says Sir Edward Poynter, "as fresh as when first painted, as, indeed, is the whole picture." James Smetham, in one of his eloquent letters, refers to this work in 1858, in illustration of the enduring qualities of a painter's "flying touches"--touches "destined to live in hours and moments when you have fled beyond all moments into the unembarrassed calm of eternity":--

Paul Veronese, three hundred years ago, painted that bright Alexander, with his handsome, flushed Venetian face, and that glowing uniform of the Venetian general which he wears; and before him, on their knees, he set those golden ladies, who are pleading in pink and violet; and there he is, and there are they, in our National Gallery; he, flushed and handsome--they, golden and suppliant as ever. It takes an oldish man to remember the comet of 1811. Who remembers Paul Veronese, nine generations since? But not a tint of his thoughts is unfixed, they beam along the walls as fresh as ever. Saint Nicholas stoops to the Angelic Coronation (26), and the solemn fiddling of the Marriage at Cana is heard along the silent galleries of the Louvre. ("Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter")--yes, and will be so when you and I have cleaned our last palette, and "in the darkness over us, the four-handed mole shall scrape."

205. OUR SAVIOUR AND THE VIRGIN.

Quentin Metsys (Flemish: 1460-1530).

Metsys--whose name appears also in the forms Matsys, Massys, and Messys--was the first of the great Antwerp painters and the last who remained faithful to the traditions of the early Flemish school. The gold background here recalls the earliest Flemish pictures in the Gallery. "He retained," says Sir F. Burton, "the technical method introduced by the Van Eycks, but with a softer and broader handling, and with a wonderfully subtle modelling which gave perfect relief and rounding without dark shadows." Among the most important monuments of his skill are the large altar-pieces in the public galleries of Brussels and Antwerp respectively. There are in other galleries pictures similar to the two figures here before us. Metsys was also fond of depicting merchants or money-changers counting their gains--a subject imitated by Marinus van Romerswael (see 944). Metsys was a native of Antwerp, and a person of consequence in his native town. A romantic legend was formerly associated with his name. He was, it is said, a locksmith, but became a painter to obtain the consent of his wife's father to his marriage. Hence the inscription--connubalis amor de mulcibre fecit Apellem. But this story, it now appears, belongs to another Metsys, of Louvain. Our painter was twice married. Portraits of himself and his second wife are in the Uffizi at Florence.

These figures are remarkable for their serenity and dignity. Characteristic also is the care lavished on the jewellery and edgings. The figure of our Saviour somewhat resembles the "Salvator Mundi" of Antonella da Messina (673)--the Italian painter who introduced the Flemish influence to his country.

296. THE VIRGIN ADORING THE INFANT CHRIST.

Florentine School (15th Century). See also (p. xix)

The authorship of this picture and of No. 781, which must be by the same hand, is one of the unsolved problems of art criticism. It has at different times been ascribed to Domenico Ghirlandajo, to Antonio Pollajuolo, to the school of Piero Pollajuolo, to Verrocchio, and to an unknown master in the school of the last-mentioned painter. Sir F. Burton said, "If not by Verrocchio, it must be the work of one of his most distinguished pupils." Sir Edward Poynter says, "This picture has all the characteristics of Andrea del Verrocchio's best work, and is probably by that painter; but the small number of works that can with certainty be ascribed to him renders the attribution uncertain." Andrea del Verrocchio (1435-1488) was the sculptor of the celebrated equestrian statue of Bartolommeo Colleoni at Venice, than which, says Ruskin, "I do not believe that there is a more glorious work of sculpture existing in the world" (Stones of Venice, vol. iii. ch. I, § 22). As a painter Verrocchio was for a time the master of Leonardo da Vinci, who painted the figure of an angel in Verrocchio's "Baptism of Christ" (in the Florentine Academy). "This figure," says Vasari (ii. 255), "was so much superior to the other parts of the picture that, perceiving this, Verrocchio resolved never again to take pencil in hand." Whether this be so or not, Verrocchio left an enduring mark on the art of his time. "He delighted to paint the putto--the infant boy who is just beginning to rejoice in the use of his limbs--and with such a charm did he invest his creations of this kind, whether in sculpture or in painting, that," says Dr. Meyer, "it is not too much to say that he was the creator of that child-type which is so universal in the Italian art of the Cinque-cento." "Verrocchio," says E. Müntz, "is the plastic artist, deeply enamoured of form, delighting in hollowing it out, in fining it down; he has none of the literary temperament of a Donatello, a Mantegna, masters who in order to give expression to the passions that stir them, to realise their ideal, need a vast theatre, numerous actors, dramatic subjects. There is no mise-en-scène, no searching after recondite ideas, with Verrocchio. Most suggestive in spirit, he sowed more than he reaped, and produced more pupils than masterpieces. All there is of feminine, one might almost say effeminate, in Leonardo's art, the delicacy, the morbidezza, the suavity, appear, though often merely in embryo, in the work of Verrocchio" (Leonardo da Vinci, i. 23, 25). The one undoubted picture by Verrocchio is "The Baptism" above referred to. In the St. George's Museum at Sheffield there is a "Madonna Adoring" which has a marked affinity (especially in the Virgin's expression and attitude, and in her peculiar head-dress) to our picture. Ruskin, who purchased it in Venice from the Manfrini collection, ascribed it unhesitatingly to Verrocchio, and called it "a picture of extreme value, which teaches all I want my pupils to learn of art." For an excellent reproduction of it, and for a full discussion both of it and of our picture, the reader should consult Mr. W. White's Principles of Art as illustrated in the Ruskin Museum (pp. 62-83). The angel on the left of this picture resembles the angel in the "Baptism," and the drawing of a head in the Uffizi at Florence by Verrocchio is a study for an angel. Dr. Richter, however, thinks the picture must be ascribed to a pupil of Verrocchio only, for "the artist of the Colleoni monument could not have been guilty of the abnormal extension given to the lower part of the Virgin's body. What should we have to say of the proportions of this figure if she were to rise from her seat?" (Italian Art in the National Gallery, p. 33). Morelli, on the other hand, on the strength of various technical details, ascribes the picture to Pollajuolo (Italian Masters in German Galleries, pp. 353-355).

This picture, whatever may be its authorship, is certainly one of the most beautiful examples of Florentine art in the second half of the fifteenth century. Of a very individual and fascinating type are the faces of the two angels; their sweet and childlike loveliness will haunt the memory of any visitor who has once studied them. Mr. Monkhouse suggests that they may represent some member of the Medici family: "It is at all events evident that the originals of these beautiful children, however elevated by the refinement of the artist, belonged to no common stock. Nor can there be any doubt that this extremely elegant type, dainty to a degree unknown before, has a close affinity to the ideal of Leonardo da Vinci." The angels' hands in our picture are also very beautiful, though there is a touch of awkward affectation in the disjointed bend of the little finger in the angel on the left. The spectator will notice further the beautiful embroidery, and the jewelled brooches worn both by this angel and by the Madonna. The child holds a raspberry in one hand, some seeds of which he puts to his lips. The expression of the mother is very beautiful in its serene happiness of worship. Her head-dress is peculiar. "The light golden hair is entirely off the forehead, with but little showing, and is formed into a kind of pad, enclosed in an ornamental veil of thin material, which being tied round upon the top of the head, lightly forms a triangular curved peak upon the forehead, and hangs down gracefully on either shoulder." The entire picture is, as Kugler says, "a work of the most attractive character, from its careful finish, its rich and transparent colour, and its great beauty of expression."

297. THE NATIVITY.

Il Romanino (Brescian: about 1485-1566).

Girolamo Romani was a native of Brescia and the son of a painter; his family belonged originally to the small town of Romano, in the province of Bergamo: hence his name, "Romanino." Like Moretto (whose rival he was), he was little known outside the district of Brescia; but he studied at Venice, where he took Giorgione for his pattern. His best works are remarkable for a brilliant golden colouring, which is unfortunately not conspicuous in this picture. It pervades the fine altar-piece of the "Madonna Enthroned" in S. Francesco at Brescia. Another splendid altar-piece is to be seen in the museum at Padua. Among Romanino's frescoes may be mentioned the lively scenes he executed for the Castle of Malpaga. Copies of these are in the Arundel Society's collection.

Of this altar-piece--painted in 1525 for the church of St. Alessandro at Brescia--Mr. Pater gives the following description: "Alessandro, patron of the church, one of the many youthful patrician converts Italy reveres from the ranks of the Roman army, stands on one side, with ample crimson banner superbly furled about his lustrous black armour; and on the other--St. Jerome, Romanino's own namesake--neither more nor less than the familiar, self-tormenting anchorite.... But the loveliest subjects are in the corners above--Gaudioso, Bishop of Brescia, above St. Jerome; above Alessandro, St. Filippo Benizzi, meek founder of the order of Servites to which that church at Brescia belonged, with his lily, and in the right hand a book, and what a book!... If you wish to see what can be made of the leaves, the vellum covers of a book, observe that in St. Philip's hands. The metre? the contents? you ask: What may they be? and whence did it come?--Out of embalmed sacristy, or antique coffin of some early Brescian martyr, or, through that bright space of blue Italian sky, from the hands of an angel, like his Annunciation lily, or the book received in the Apocalypse by John the Divine? It is one of those old saints, Gaudioso (at home in every church of Brescia), who looks out with full face from the opposite corner of the altar-piece, from a background which, though it might be the new heaven over a new earth, is in truth only the proper, breathable air of Italy. As we see him here, Saint Gaudioso is one of the more exquisite treasures of our National Gallery. It was thus that, at the magic touch of Romanino's art, the dim, early, hunted-down Brescian church of the primitive centuries, crushed into the dust, it might seem, was 'brought to her king,' out of those old dark crypts, 'in raiment of needlework'--the delicate, richly-folded, pontifical white vestments, the mitre and staff and gloves, and rich jewelled cope, blue or green.[143] The face, of remarkable beauty, after a type which all feel, though it is actually rare in art, is probably a portrait of some distinguished churchman of Romanino's own day: a second Gaudioso, perhaps, setting that later Brescian church to rights after the terrible French occupation in the painter's own time, as his saintly predecessor, the Gaudioso of the earlier century here commemorated, had done after the invasion of the Goths. The eloquent eyes are open upon some glorious vision. 'He hath made us kings and priests!' they seem to say for him, as the clean, sensitive lips might do so eloquently. Beauty and holiness had 'kissed each other,' as in Borgognone's imperial deacons at the Certosa. At the Renaissance the world might seem to have parted them again. But here certainly, once more, Catholicism and the Renaissance, religion and culture, holiness and beauty, might seem reconciled, by one who had conceived neither after any feeble way, in a gifted person. Here at least, by the skill of Romanino's hand, the obscure martyr of the crypts shines as a saint of the later Renaissance, with a sanctity of which the elegant world itself would hardly escape the fascination, and which reminds one how the great Apostle St. Paul has made courtesy part of the content of the Divine charity itself. A Rubens in Italy!--so Romanino has been called. In this gracious presence we might think that, like Rubens also, he had been a courtier" ("Art Notes in North Italy" in New Review, November 1890).

298. THE TWO ST. CATHERINES.

Ambrogio Borgognone (Lombard: about 1455-1523).

Ambrogio Borgognone, called also Ambrogio da Fossano, the latter being the name of a town in Piedmont, was born at Milan. "It may have been Ambrogio's grandfather or great-grandfather who left the little Piedmontese town to settle at Milan; one of his ancestors had probably lived some time in Flanders (then called Borgogna by the Italians) and had thus received the surname of Borgognone. Ambrogio, who holds the same central place in the Milanese School of painting as Perugino in that of Perugia, and Francia in that of Bologna, was, according to my view, a pupil of Vincenzo Foppa the elder, and the real master of Bernardino Luini, the Raphael of the Milanese school. He remains in all his works a thorough Lombard" (Morelli's German Galleries, p. 419). The tenderness of feeling in this "Perugino of the Lombard School" is very marked. "The presentment of divine or holy personages, in calm serenity or in resigned suffering, accorded best," says Burton, "with his temperament. Even his colouring partakes of the pervading sentiment; the grey pallor of his heads is only modified, now and then, by the reddened eyelids of sorrow. In the Accademia at Pavia is a small picture, representing Christ bearing his cross, and followed by some Carthusian Brothers, which in simple pathos and deep religious meaning is perhaps without its equal in art." Ambrogio was distinguished as an architect no less than as a painter, and was employed on the façade of the Certosa of Pavia--a view of which building figures in the background of a picture by Ambrogio in our gallery (1410).

For St. Catherine of Alexandria, see under 693; for St. Catherine of Siena, under 249. Each of them was proclaimed the spouse of Christ for the love they bore him. And Borgognone here places them on either side of the Madonna's throne. "Their names are inscribed on the haloes which surround their heads. The Madonna--an exquisite example of the earlier and purer Lombard type--sits enthroned on a raised seat, which may be compared with that of the Blenheim Madonna and of many other Virgins in our collection. The Child, erect on her knees and short-coated after the earlier wont, is in the very act of placing the ring of His mystic wedding on the timorous hand of St. Catherine of Alexandria. The Saint herself, as the earlier and more famous of the two, stands at the right hand of Our Lady. In her left she grasps the palm of martyrdom. As Princess of Egypt the meek and beautiful lady wears a regal crown. Her long wavy hair, of the type which we usually regard as Leonardesque, but which Leonardo really acquired in Lombardy, is characteristic of this saint, even in pictures of other schools (cf. the Umbrian, No. 646). At her feet lies the wheel, with its conventional hooked spikes, which was the instrument of her torture. On the Madonna's left stands St. Catherine of Siena in her Dominican robes. Her face is pure saintliness--a marvel of beauty; her left hand holds the ascetic white lily of the Dominican order; her right the Madonna takes with a gentle, and one might almost say consolatory gesture. Our Lady seems to comfort her for her less favoured position; and if you look close you will see that the infant Saviour holds in His left hand a second ring, which He extends with childish grace towards the Nun of Siena" (Grant Allen in Pall Mall Magazine, June-December 1895, p. 66).

299. PORTRAIT OF AN ITALIAN NOBLEMAN.

Moretto (Brescian: 1498-1555).

In examples of the Brescian, as of the Veronese School, the National Gallery is very rich. "The dialect of the Brescians is very like that of their neighbours of Bergamo, but not so harsh and rugged (see 1203): the character of the people, too, is more lively and frank, more given to show and swagger (Bresciani spacca-cantoni). The Brescians, wedged in between the Veronese and Bergamese, unite, to some extent, the manly energy of the latter with the greater vivacity and pliancy of the former" (Morelli). The foundation of the Brescian School was laid by Vincenzo Foppa (see 729), whose pupil Il Moretto was. It is characteristic of the wide dispersion of the art gift in Italy that this Alessandro Bonvicino, nicknamed "Il Moretto,"--one of the greatest of portrait painters,--should have belonged entirely to a provincial city. He was born and educated at Brescia, where his father was a merchant; and with the exception of a very few pictures, he painted only for his native town and the province of Brescia, and it is there that nearly the whole work of his life is still to be found. Indeed he was little known beyond the frontiers of the Brescian district, and it is only during the last half century or so that his reputation has arisen. Moretto never studied in Venice; his development and genius are native, and he rivalled Titian himself in the stateliness and dignity of his figures. His altar-pieces are distinguished further by much gravity of feeling and sincerity of unostentatious religious feeling. The picture in our own gallery (625) is a good example. Others are to be found in the churches of his native town and in some foreign galleries. Among the best are the "Coronation of the Virgin" in SS. Nazzaro e Celso, Brescia; "St. Margaret" in S. Francesco, Brescia; "The Feast of the Pharisee," S. Maria della Pietà, Venice; "Madonna and Child," Städel Institute, Frankfort; and "S. Giustina," Belvedere, Vienna. His nickname of "the Blackamoor" is particularly inappropriate to his style, which is distinguished for its silvery tones, "a cool, tender, and harmonious scale of colour which has a peculiar charm, and is entirely his own" (Layard, ii. 577). This harmony of colour, which became characteristic of the Brescian School, may be observed also in his rival, Romanino. Moretto is distinguished not more for his religious subjects than for his portraits, of which we possess two very beautiful specimens in the picture now before us, and in No. 1025. He was the master of another great portrait-painter, Moroni of Bergamo (see 697), and works of the two are often confused. In addition to the charm of his harmonious colouring, Moretto's portraits are remarkable for the dignity he imparts to his subjects. "Moretto," says Morelli, "shows himself the higher artist of the two; his conception of a subject and his drawing are nobler and more elegant than those of his matter-of-fact scholar; but these intellectual qualities, which are not perceptible to every eye, do not always suffice to distinguish his weaker works from Moroni's best. In such cases the only means we have of determining the authorship is an exact and minute examination. The shape and expression of the hand, for instance, are very different in Moroni from what they are in Moretto. The hands of the latter, with pointed fingers, suggestive of the academy, are never so true to nature as those which Moroni can make when he chooses in drawing from life. Moretto's flesh-colours, too, have a delicate silver tone, while Moroni's, with their earth-like tints, are more realistic" (German Galleries, pp. 47-50, 169-171, 396-403).[144]

This painter is conspicuous, says Lanzi (History of Painting in Italy, Bohn's edition 1847, ii. 181), for his "skill in imitating every kind of velvet, satin, or other cloth, either of gold or silver." His portraits are remarkable, as is noticed under 1025, for their poetic insight. He is not content with producing an obvious likeness in the flesh; he strives at portraying or suggesting some spiritual idea in all his sitters. These characteristics are conspicuous in the present picture. Thus notice, first, the splendid brocades. Then secondly, how the painter tells you not only that this was what the sitter looked like, but what was his character. It is clearly the portrait of some one who combined with an important position the tastes of a dilettante, and who had an aspiring soul. On his cap is a label inscribed ιου λιαν ποθω, which being literally interpreted means "Alas, I desire too much!"--an inscription which accords with the yearning upward gaze and the pose selected by the painter. But the motto has also a punning reference. Reading the two first words as one, it becomes ιουλιαν ποθω, "I desire Julia," or with a further pun on the last word, "Julia Potho." We thus obtain a clue to the identity of the sitter. The Potho or Pozzo family was well known at the time in Brescia. Francesco dal Pozzo, 3rd Marquis of Ponderano (born 1494), had as his first-born a daughter Julia. She became the wife of Giacomo Gromo, Signor di Ternengo, who was a man of official status in Biella in 1539, having to do with the fiscal arrangements of the district. This may be indicated in our picture by the two coins of bronze and gold, and the die or seal. The sandalled foot on the table (an antique lamp?) may indicate his love of antiquities. "It is to be hoped, if our picture be a portrait of Monsignor Giacomo Gromo di Ternengo, that he had not long to wait before he became the devoted husband of Julia Potho, for whom he so yearned, and whose favour he wore in his hat." (W. Fred Dickes in Athenæum, June 3 and Aug. 26, 1893).[145]

300. THE VIRGIN AND CHILD.

Cima da Conegliano (Venetian: 1460-1518).

Some miles north of Venice, in the Friuli, rises the town of Conegliano, which, from its isolated and castled hill, overlooks the plain of Treviso. Cima, whose real name was Giovanni Battista, takes his title in art-history from the "cima," or castled "height," of his native place--a picturesque feature which he introduced, wherever it was at all possible, into his pictures. We see these towers of Conegliano in the present picture; and a window is opened in the large composition, No. 816, in order to give us a glimpse of a similar height. In his love of his native landscape is one of the principal charms of Cima's work. "Morning is his favourite time--morning among the hills; and then and there the painter enjoyed more happiness than any twilight gondola could give him. In our National Gallery are two examples of the Conegliano scenery, but the brilliant daylight that so distinguishes Cima is strangely absent" (Gilbert's Landscape in Art, p. 329). One of his best works is the "St. John the Baptist" in the church of S. Maria dell' Orto, Venice. "He is here painting," says Ruskin, "his name-saint; the whole picture full of peace and intense faith and hope, and deep joy in light of sky and fruit and flower and weed of earth. The picture was painted for the church of Our Lady of the Garden, and it is full of simple flowers, and has the wild strawberry of Cima's native mountains gleaming through the grass.... He has given us the oak, the fig, the beautiful 'Erba della Madonna' on the wall, precisely such a bunch of it as may be seen growing at this day on the marble steps of that very church; ivy, and other creepers, and a strawberry plant in the foreground, with a blossom, and a berry just set, and one half-ripe, and one ripe, all patiently and innocently painted from the real thing, and therefore most divine.... His own Alps are in the distance, and he shall teach us how to paint wild flowers, and how to think of them" (Modern Painters, vol. i. pt. ii. sec. i. ch. vii. § 9; vol. iii. pt. iv. ch. x. § 5; Oxford Lectures on Art, § 150; Catalogue of the Educational Series, p. 27). The charming landscape and fine colour of Cima are accompanied by earnestness of religious feeling, and a sense of peace and quiet, unmixed with any ascetism. "The painter," says Ruskin, of another of his pictures, "does not desire the excitement of rapid movement, nor even the passion of beautiful light. But he hates darkness as he does death. He paints noble human creatures simply in clear daylight; not in rapture, nor yet in agony. The unexciting colour will not at first delight you; but its charm will never fail, and you will find that you never return to it but with a sense of relief and of peace.... Cima is not supreme in any artistic quality, but good and praiseworthy in all" (Lectures on Landscape, § 60; Guide to the Academy at Venice, p. 14). Cima is usually reckoned among the disciples of Giovanni Bellini, and is believed at one time to have superintended the workshop of that master.

In the background, on the right, are the towers of Conegliano; on the left, the neighbouring castle of Colalto. There is something very pretty in the way in which the earlier Venetian masters placed their Holy Families in their own fields and amongst their own mountains (compare e.g. the Madonna in the Meadow, No. 599), thus imagining the Madonna and her child not as a far-away sanctity in the sky, but as an actual presence nigh unto them, at their very doors.[146] "There has probably not been an innocent cottage-home throughout the length and breadth of Europe during the whole period of vital Christianity, in which the imagined presence of the Madonna has not given sanctity to the humblest duties, and comfort to the sorest trials of the lives of women; and every brightest and loftiest achievement of the arts and strength of manhood has been the fulfilment of the assured prophecy of the poor Israelite maiden, 'He that is mighty hath magnified me, and holy is his name'" (Fors Clavigera, 1874, p. 105).

479. THE SUN RISING IN A MIST.

J. M. W. Turner, R.A. (British: 1775-1851).

For the circumstances under which this picture by Turner and the "Dido Building Carthage" (498) hang not in the Turner Gallery but beside the Claudes, see under 12.

This picture was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1807, and belongs therefore to Turner's first period, which was distinguished by "subdued colour and perpetual reference to precedent in composition." This effect of sunrise in a mist was a favourite one with Dutch painters, and Turner, when he went to the sea-shore, painted it in the Dutch manner. A time was to come when he would paint the sun rising no longer in a mist. Yet from the first, the bent of his own mind was visible in his work. He paints no such ideal futilities as are pointed out above in Claude's picture, but fishermen engaged in their daily toil. One of his father's best friends was a fishmonger, whom he often visited: "which gives us a friendly turn of mind towards herring-fishing, whaling, Calais poissardes, and many other of our choicest subjects in afterlife." He was the painter not of "pastoral indolence or classic pride, but of the labour of men, by sea and land" (Modern Painters, vol. v. pt. ix. ch. ix.).

498. DIDO BUILDING CARTHAGE.

J. M. W. Turner, R.A. (British: 1775-1851).

From the technical point of view this is not one of Turner's best pictures. It was exhibited in 1815, and belongs therefore to his first period, when he had still not completely exorcised "the brown demon." The picture, says Ruskin, "is quite unworthy of Turner as a colourist," "his eye for colour unaccountably fails him,"[147] and "the foreground is heavy and evidently paint, if we compare it with genuine passages of Claude's sunshine" (Modern Painters, vol. i. pt. ii. sec. i. ch. vii. § 45, sec. ii. ch. i. § 13, ch. ii. § 18).

But there is a noble idea in the picture. Dido, Queen of Carthage, surrounded by her people, and with plans and papers about her, is superintending the building of the city which was to become the great maritime power of the ancient world. "The principal object in the foreground (on the left) is a group of children sailing toy boats. The exquisite choice of this incident, as expressive of the ruling passion which was to be the source of future greatness, in preference to the tumult of busy stone-masons or arming soldiers, is quite as appreciable when it is told as when it is seen,--it has nothing to do with the technicalities of painting; a scratch of the pen would have conveyed the idea and spoken to the intellect as much as the elaborate realisations of colour. Such a thought as this is something far above all art; it is epic poetry of the highest order" (Modern Painters, vol. i. pt. i. sec. i. ch. vii. § 2).

564. THE VIRGIN AND CHILD, WITH SCENES FROM THE LIVES OF THE SAINTS.

Margaritone (Tuscan: 1216-1293).

Margaritone, famous in his time (like so many of his successors) for painting, sculpture, and architecture alike, was a native of Arezzo, and was "the last of the Italian artists who painted entirely after the Greek (or Byzantine) manner," from which Cimabue and Giotto were the first to depart.[148] He died at the age of seventy-seven, "afflicted and disgusted (says Vasari) that he had lived to see the changes by which all honours were transferred to new artists." This picture being, according to the critics, the most important and characteristic picture of the artist still remaining, should, therefore, be carefully studied by those who are interested in tracing the history of art. Of the Greek manner, in which art was for so many centuries encased, one may notice, first, that there was no attempt to depict things like life. Art, as the phrase goes, was "symbolic," not "representative." Certain definite symbols, certain definite attitudes, were understood to mean certain things. Just as in earlier Greek painting white flesh, for instance, was taken to denote a woman, black or red flesh a man, so here such and such attitudes were accepted as meaning that the figure in question was the Virgin, and such and such other attitudes that it was the Christ. Secondly, these symbols were all expressive of various dogmas of the Church--of creeds and formulas peculiar to one sect rather than of spiritual truths common to all Christianity.

Both characteristics may be traced in almost every line of this picture. For instance, the humanity of Christ is not yet even hinted at, his divinity alone being insisted upon. Thus the young God is here represented in the form of a man-child; erect, with the assumed dignity of an adult, as he raises his hand to bless the faithful. With his left hand he holds the roll in which are written the names of the faithful saved: it is as a judge that he comes into the world. The Virgin again is here shown as elect of God to be the mother of God: not as the mother of Jesus, the mother of man's highest humanity. She wears on her head the fleur-de-lys coronet, symbol of purity; and the glory, or aureole, around her represents the acrostic symbol of the fish, the Greek word for fish containing the initials of the several Greek words meaning "Jesus Christ, Son of God, Saviour." Outside this "Vesica" (or "fish glory"), in the four corners, are four Jewish symbols (Ezekiel i. 10), adopted as emblems of the four Evangelists--the Angel (St. Matthew), the Ox (St. Luke), the Lion (St. Mark), and the Eagle (St. John). So again, in the scenes on either side of the central piece we see the same gloomy theology, in which the world is thought of solely as a place made hideous with evils, where saints are boiled by pagans, women slain by seducers, children devoured by dragons. By help of such pictured deeds of hell, men were taught by the early Church to "loathe this base world and think of heaven's bliss." The first subject (on the spectator's left) represents the birth of Christ in a cattle-shed; the second St. John the Evangelist, calm midst the cauldron of seething oil, the martyr's uplifted hand expressing the precept, "Pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you." The third subject depicts in a rude symbolic way incidents in the life of St. Catherine--her beheading, her soul's reception by angels, and the burial of her body by two angels on Mount Sinai. The fourth subject shows St. Nicolas appearing suddenly to some sailors, whom he exhorts to throw overboard a vase given by the devil. In the fifth is St. John resuscitating the body of Drusiana, a matron who had lived in his house previous to his departure, and whose bier he had chanced to meet on his return to Ephesus. In the next subject St. Benedict, founder of the Benedictine Order, is shown in the act of throwing himself into a thicket of briars and nettles, as he rushes from his cave to rid himself of the recollection of a beautiful woman he had once met in Rome, and whose image now tempts him to leave his chosen solitude. In the seventh, St. Nicolas liberates three innocent men; and in the eighth is represented St. Margaret, patron saint of women in childbirth, whom the devil in the form of a dragon confronts to terrify into abnegation of her Christian faith. Unable to persuade her, he devours her, but bursts in the midst, and by power of the Cross she emerges unhurt. It is interesting to observe that the two consecutive acts are here shown as co-existent: a thing frequently done, as we have seen, in early art. Finally, another characteristic feature is the introduction of the "grotesque" in the animals that support the throne as a relief from the strained seriousness of the rest of the picture (A. H. Macmurdo in Century Guild Hobby Horse, i. 21-28).

The picture, signed by the painter, was an altar-front in the church of Santa Margherita at Arezzo. It is painted in tempera on linen cloth attached to wood, and even in Vasari's day its preservation was deemed remarkable. "It comprises," he says, "many small figures, of better manner than those of larger size, designed with more grace and finished with greater delicacy; and this work deserves consideration, not only because the little figures are so carefully done that they look like miniatures, but also for the extraordinary fact that a picture on canvas should have continued in such good preservation during 300 years" (i. 89).

565. THE MADONNA AND CHILD.

Cimabue (Florentine: 1240-1302).

Giovanni Cenni, called Cimabue, has been called the "Father of Modern Painting." He imitated the Byzantine style, says Vasari, but "improved the art and relieved it greatly from its uncouth manner." He did not entirely free himself from the dismal formalism of his predecessors, but he infused new life into the old traditional types. A contemporary of his was Niccola Pisano, whose work in the allied art of sculpture shows a more marked advance, and who perhaps really gave the new impulse which art received at this period--an impulse carried on in the field of painting by Cimabue's pupil, Giotto. Niccola Pisano, says Ruskin, "is the Master of Naturalism in Italy,--therefore elsewhere: of Naturalism and all that follows" (Val d'Arno, § 16). Well-authenticated pictures by Cimabue are the Madonna panel with angels in the Academy at Florence (formerly in the church of SS. Trinita), and the colossal Madonna still in the Rucellai chapel in S. Maria Novella. The latter is the picture of which the well-known story, referred to below, is told. Our picture, which is also mentioned by Vasari, was originally attached to a pilaster in the choir of S. Croce.[149] Cimabue also executed some of the frescoes in the Upper Church at Assisi: and at the time of his death was occupied on the mosaics in the tribune of the Duomo at Pisa. Copies of Cimabue's frescoes may be seen in the Arundel Society's Collection.

The changes which Cimabue introduced into the art of painting were twofold. In the first place, his pictures show an increase of pictorial skill. This picture has suffered much from time. Thus in the Madonna's face, which was originally laid in green and painted over thinly, time and restorations have removed this over-painting, and left the green exposed (see also Duccio's 566). The green and purple of her dress also have changed into a dusky tone; but even so, the advance in pictorial skill may be seen in the shading of the colours, and the attempt to represent the light and dark masses of the drapery, whereas in earlier pictures the painters had been content with flat tints. But the advance made by Cimabue was even more in spirit than in technical skill. He combined the contemplation of the South with the action of the North. He gave the populace of his day something to look at--and something to love. "Is she not beautiful," asks a critic before this picture, "in simplicity and solemn majesty? Is she not a real mother with a half sad and foreboding wistful look that goes straight to the heart?" Cimabue's Madonna is still a Mater Dolorosa--"our Lady of Pain," but there is an attempt alike in her and in the child, and in the attendant angels, to substitute for the conventional image of an ideal personage the representation of real humanity. It was this change that explains the story told of one of Cimabue's works, that it was carried in glad procession, with the sound of trumpets, from his house to the church, and that the place was ever afterwards called "Borgo Allegro" (the joyful quarter)--a name which it bears to this day. "This delight was not merely in the revelation of an art they had not known how to practise; it was delight in the revelation of a Madonna whom they had not known how to love" (Mornings in Florence, ii. 48). In telling this story, Vasari adds that "they had not seen anything better"; the rudeness and quaintness which are all that at first sight are now discernible would then, it must be remembered, have been unseen. We may recall the poet's protest against those who,

Because of some stiff draperies and loose joints, Gaze scorn down from the heights of Raffaelhood On Cimabue's picture.

MRS. BROWNING: Casa Guidi Windows.

566. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Duccio (Sienese: about 1260-1340).

Duccio, the son of Buoninsegna, did much the same for the Sienese School as Cimabue and Giotto did for the Florentine. He was the first, that is to say, who, forsaking partly the conventional manner of the Byzantine School, endeavoured to give some resemblance to nature, and in religious subjects to bring down heaven to earth. "He retained the ancient formulas, destroying, however, their formalism by the inspiration of new life." The development of Sienese art under his influence was parallel to, yet distinct from, that in Florence. "His feeling is quite distinct; his pure, sweet, transparent colouring is his own; his type of beauty more graceful and more classical, and he loved more gentle curves, more oval faces and longer limbs. In these things he followed his own temperament, and by so doing determined the characteristics of the Sienese School" (Monkhouse: In the National Gallery, p. 17). In 1285 Duccio was commissioned to paint a large Madonna for the church of S. Maria Novella at Florence. In 1308 he began the execution of his Maestà for the cathedral of Siena, of which some portions are now in the transept and others in the Opera del Duomo. The revelation that Duccio made of the new power of art was received, as was Cimabue's, with rapturous applause, and a portion of the famous picture just referred to was in 1310 carried in procession on a beautiful day in June to the Cathedral amidst the ringing of bells and the sounding of trumpets; the magistrates, clergy, and religious orders escorting it, followed by a multitude of citizens with their wives and families, praying as they went: the shops were closed and alms distributed to the poor. For that masterpiece Duccio received 16 soldi (8d.) the working day, paid to him in monthly instalments. The city, however, found him his materials, which, owing to the quantity of gold used (see 1139), raised the whole cost to 3000 gold florins. Works by Duccio are a speciality of the National Gallery, which has four of them to show, 566, 1139, 1140, and 1330. The present picture is the most important, and best illustrates the new departure made by Duccio.

The young Christ, for instance, instead of being depicted in the act of priestly benediction (as in 564), is shown as a true babe, drawing aside the veil that hides his Mother's face. In this little incident one may thus see the tendency which was to lead to the representation of the Mother and Child as a Holy Family (the spectator must have "charity of imagination" to ignore the green hue of the Madonna's face, for reasons stated under 565). "A conception like this of the Infant Saviour is not met with, so far as I know, in the whole range of Byzantine art from the fifth century onwards. The relation of the Child to his mother, as here represented, the gesture of childlike love, contrasting with the expression of melancholy in her face, which, perhaps, constitutes the principal charm of the picture--is an innovation. This motive does not occur in the work of Niccola Pisano, the great sculptor who had executed a famous work in the cathedral of Siena some twenty years previously. We find it, however, in contemporary Gothic sculpture of France; a very characteristic example is in the South Kensington Museum, a charming little ivory of the Madonna standing with the Child in her arms" (Richter's Lectures on the National Gallery, p. 18). Above are seen the prophets, headed by David their king, while on either side St. Catherine[150] and St Dominic adore the vision of the mother of God. The Byzantine influence, on the other hand, may be seen in the Greek type of feature and long, slender fingers.

567. CHRIST ON THE CROSS.

Segna di Buonaventura (Sienese: painted 1305-1326).

A ghastly and conventional work by one of the early Sienese painters--a pupil of Duccio.

568. THE CORONATION OF THE VIRGIN.

School of Giotto (Giotto: 1266-1336). See also (p. xix)

Giotto di Bondone--great alike as a painter, a sculptor, and an architect--was the son of a shepherd in the country near Florence. One day when he was drawing a ram of his father's flock with a stone upon a smooth piece of rock, Cimabue (see 565) happened to be passing by, and, seeing the lad's natural bent, carried him off to be a painter. Cimabue taught him all he knew, and in time the pupil eclipsed his master. Dante mentions this as an instance of the vanity of Fame: "Cimabue thought to hold the field in painting, but now Giotto has the cry." But another poet holds

That Cimabue smiled upon the lad At the first stroke which passed what he could do, Or else his Virgin's smile had never had Such sweetness in't. All great men who foreknew Their heirs in art, for art's sake have been glad.

MRS. BROWNING: Casa Guidi Windows.

The earliest examples of his work extant are the frescoes forming the lower range in the Upper Church at Assisi. His frescoes of the virtues in the Lower Church are believed to belong to a later period. So great was his fame that in 1298 he was sent for to do some work for the Pope. It was for him that Giotto sent as his testimonial the famous circle drawn with a brush, without compasses. "You may judge my masterhood of craft," Giotto tells us, "by seeing that I can draw a circle unerringly." (Hence the saying, "rounder than the O of Giotto.") After a short time in Rome, Giotto returned to Florence and painted the chapel of the Podestà, or Bargello, of Florence, which was rescued from destruction in 1841. Some of Giotto's work in it was restored. Here is his famous portrait of Dante (traced previous to restoration and published by the Arundel Society). To a later period belong his frescoes in the church of Santa Croce. In 1303 Giotto was called to decorate the walls of the chapel of the Annunziata dell' Arena at Padua. This he did with a series of compositions which are the greatest monument of his genius. It was during the execution of this work that Dante visited Padua, being entertained by his friend the painter. "Thus went Giotto, a serene labourer, throughout the length and breadth of Italy. He engaged himself in other tasks at Ferrara, Verona, and Ravenna, and at last at Avignon, where he became acquainted with Petrarch. Then passed rapidly through Florence and Orvieto on his way to Naples, where he received the kindest welcome from the good King Robert. The King, ever partial to men of mind and genius, took especial delight in Giotto's society; and Giotto (says Vasari), who had ever his repartee ready, held him fascinated at once with the magic of his pencil and pleasantry of his tongue. Returning to Florence, Giotto was appointed chief master of the works of the Duomo then in progress. He designed the Campanile, modelled the bas-relief for the base of the building, and sculptured two of them with his own hand. He died full of honour and at the zenith of his strength. He was buried in the cathedral, at the angle nearest his campanile; and thus the tower, which is the chief grace of his native city, may be regarded as his own sepulchral monument." Only those who have seen Giotto's wall paintings at Assisi, Padua, and Florence can form any true conception of his greatness. It is pointed out below in what respects his work was remarkable and important for his time. It has also an abiding value in itself. "In nine cases out of ten," says Ruskin, "the first expression of an idea is the most valuable: the idea may afterwards be polished and softened, and made more attractive to the general eye; but the first expression of it has a freshness and brightness, like the flash of a native crystal compared to the lustre of glass that has been melted and cut. Giotto was not, indeed, one of the most accomplished painters, but he was one of the greatest men who ever lived. He was the first master of his time, in architecture as well as in painting; he was the friend of Dante, and the undisputed interpreter of religious truth, by means of painting, over the whole of Italy. The works of such a man may not be the best to set before children in order to teach them drawing; but they assuredly should be studied with the greatest care by all who are interested in the history of the human mind" (Giotto and his Works in Padua). Copies of many of his works are in the Arundel Society's Collection.

It was Cimabue who first attempted to represent action as well as contemplation. Giotto went farther, and represented the action of daily life. "Cimabue magnified the Maid; and Florence rejoiced in her Queen. But it was left for Giotto to make the queenship better beloved, in its sweet humiliation." This picture is not by the master himself, but it is characteristic--in its greater naturalness and resemblance to human life--of Giotto's work. Cimabue's picture (565) is felt in a moment to be archaic beside it. Giotto is thus the first painter of domestic life--the "reconciler of the domestic with the monastic ideal, of household wisdom, labour of love, toil upon earth according to the law of Heaven, with revelation in cave or island, with the endurance of desolate and loveless days, with the repose of folded hands that wait Heaven's time." The corresponding development in the direction of greater naturalness which Giotto--himself a country lad brought up amongst the hills and fields--introduced in the art of landscape painting cannot, unfortunately, be illustrated from the National Gallery (see on this point Edinburgh Lectures on Architecture and Painting, ch. iii.). But a third development--the introduction, namely, of portraiture--is well seen in the Heads of St. John and St. Paul (276), a work in which Giotto's influence is very marked. There is no longer a mere adoption of conventional types: these apostles are individual portraits. "Before Cimabue, no beautiful rendering of human form was possible; and the rude or formal types of the Lombard and Byzantine, though they would serve in the tumult of the chase, or as the recognised symbols of creed, could not represent personal and domestic character. Faces with goggling eyes and rigid lips might be endured, with ready help of imagination, for gods, angels, saints, or hunters--or for anybody else in scenes of recognised legend; but would not serve for pleasant portraiture of one's own self, or of the incidents of gentle, actual life. And even Cimabue did not venture to leave the sphere of conventionally reverenced dignity. He still painted--though beautifully--only the Madonna, and the St. Joseph, and the Christ. These he made living--Florence asked no more: and 'Credette Cimabue nella pintura tener lo campo.' But Giotto came from the field; and saw with his simple eyes a lowlier worth. And he painted the Madonna, and St. Joseph, and the Christ,--yes, by all means, if you choose to call them so, but essentially,--Mamma, Papa, and the Baby. And all Italy threw up its cap--'ora ha Giotto il grido' (now Giotto has the cry)." A fourth development which the art of painting owes to Giotto may be well seen in this picture. Notice the pretty passages of colour, as, for instance, in the dresses of the angels. "The Greeks had painted anything anyhow,--gods black, horses red, lips and cheeks white; and when the Etruscan vase expanded into a Cimabue picture, or a Tafi mosaic, still--except that the Madonna was to have a blue dress, and everything else as much gold on it as could be managed--there was very little advance in notions of colour. Suddenly Giotto threw aside all the glitter, and all the conventionalism; and declared that he saw the sky blue, the tablecloth white, and angels, when he dreamed of them, rosy. And he simply founded the schools of colour in Italy" (Mornings in Florence, pt. ii.).

569. AN ALTAR-PIECE.

Orcagna (Florentine: about 1308-1386).

"From the time of Giotto to the end of the 14th century Orcagna stands quite pre-eminent even among the many excellent artists of that time. In sculpture he was a pupil of Andrea Pisano; in painting, though indirectly, a disciple of Giotto. Few artists have practised with such success so many branches of the arts. Orcagna was not only a painter and a sculptor, but also a worker in mosaic, an architect and a poet. His importance in the history of Italian art rests not merely on his numerous and beautiful productions, but also on his widespread influence, transmitted to his successors through a large and carefully trained school of pupils. In style as a painter Orcagna comes midway between Giotto and Fra Angelico; he combined the dramatic force and realistic vigour of the earlier painting with the pure brilliant colour and refined unearthly beauty of Fra Angelico. His large fresco paintings are works of extreme decorative beauty and splendour, composed with careful reference to their architectural surroundings" (Middleton). His real name was Andrea di Cione, but he was called by his contemporaries Orcagna, a corruption of Arcagnuolo, the Archangel. "An intense solemnity and energy in the sublimest groups of his figures, fading away as he touches inferior subjects, indicates that his home was among the archangels, and his rank among the first of the sons of men" (Modern Painters, vol. iii. pt. iv. ch. iii. § 8). Orcagna's father was a goldsmith, and the result of his early training in the use of the precious metals may be traced in the extreme delicacy and refined detail of his principal works in sculpture. He used to note his union of the arts by signing his pictures "the work of ... sculptor," and his sculptures "the work of ... painter." As a sculptor and architect, the principal work of Orcagna is the church of Or San Michele at Florence. The great marble tabernacle is "one of the most important and beautiful works of art which even Italy possesses." Vasari also attributes to his design the Loggia dei Lanzi in the Piazza della Signoria, but this attribution cannot be upheld. As a painter, the chief works of Orcagna are the frescoes in the Strozzi chapel in S. Maria Novella. The "Paradise" is the finest of these compositions--a work full both of grace and of majesty. These frescoes were executed in 1350. In 1357 Orcagna painted the altar-piece in the same chapel, and of about the same date is the altar-piece now before us. The grand frescoes in the Campo Santo at Pisa ascribed by Vasari to Orcagna are now attributed to other hands.

"In San Piero Maggiore," says Vasari in his life of Orcagna, "he executed a rather large picture, the 'Coronation of the Virgin.'" This is the picture now before us. The principal portion is numbered 569. The other nine pictures (570-578) were originally portions of the same magnificent piece of decoration. A model of the church for which it was painted is held by St. Peter (among the saints adoring on the spectator's left). This altar-piece, though a handsome piece of church furniture, is not so favourable a specimen of the master's power as are the works referred to above. Nevertheless these panels are full of varied interest.

A certain quaint uncouthness should not blind us to Orcagna's wealth of expressive detail. Thus, "in the sensitive cast of the Mother's countenance, and in the refined pose of her figure, there is a rare degree of eloquence, such as silently bespeaks a modesty which would shun, a humility which would disallow, any sort of self-adornment. Her Lord, to whose will she submits herself, is no less monumental in dignity of combined power and tenderness. And in the celestial band below, in the maidens that play and sing at the Mother's feet, despite their quaint little almond eyes, there is a naïveté of expression, a simplicity and animation unequalled at so early a date. In particular she who, singing behind the harpist, generously spends her soul in impassioned songs, while others, agreeable to nature's truth, are singing regardless of their song, interested only in what is around. Again, in that dual company of holy men and women sitting about the throne, reverence stills every feature, and a saintly singleness of purpose keeps each eye as they look in loving adoration on Him whose dying bought their soul's salvation, or as they lean towards Her whose human heart petitioned them to Paradise" (A. H. Macmurdo in Century Guild Hobby Horse, ii. 34). In the Hobby Horse (a different publication, No. 1, 1893), a musical expert calls attention to the instruments shown by Orcagna. Thus "in the central compartment note the portative organ, at that time in familiar use, with its gimlet-shaped keys all of one light colour, and apparently, even in that early date, chromatic in disposition. Five large drone pipes may be recognised, from their being out of scale with the melody pipes. The second instrument in the angelic band is the mediæval harp, the comb holding the wrest, or tuning, pins being held here in an animal's mouth. A third angel is furnished with a cither, also a favourite mediæval instrument. It is ornamented in ebony and ivory, and has a plectrum guard inserted in the belly, as in a modern mandoline. The fourth angel has a viol of a clumsy form; it took another 200 years to arrive at the graceful outline of the violin. The fifth has a psaltery. One angel has a bagpipe; the chaunter or melody pipe has eight holes, the same number the highland bagpipe has now." Variations of these instruments may be noted in the subordinate pictures (A. J. Hipkins). An expert in another art calls attention to the beauty of the patterns on the dresses of the central figures, on the ground upon which the angels kneel and stand, and also on the stuff hung at the back of the throne (Sydney Vacher: Italian Ornaments from brocades and stuffs found in pictures in the National Gallery).

570-2. THE TRINITY, WITH ANGELS ADORING.

Orcagna (part of the altar-piece, 569).

One may notice here one of Orcagna's limitations. "He was unable to draw the nude. On this inability followed a coldness to the value of flowing lines, and to the power of unity in composition; neither could he indicate motion or buoyancy in flying or floating figures" (On the Old Road, i. § 78). Compare especially the flying angels in the two little pictures 571 and 572, with such figures as those by Botticelli (1034), and it will be seen at once how inferior Orcagna's knowledge was.

573-5. THE NATIVITY, ADORATION, AND RESURRECTION.

Orcagna (part of the altar-piece, 569).

These panels are very rude and "conventional": nothing can be more absurd, for instance, than the sleeping sheep and shepherds at the top of the Nativity; but they are interesting, if only by comparison with later pictures of the same subjects. Such a comparison shows how constant the traditional ways of representing these events were, and how individual choice was shown in beautifying the traditions. From this point of view the Nativity is specially interesting. "This beautiful little picture," says Mr. Hodgson, R.A., "is a good example of the simplest and most perfectly symbolical treatment of the subject. In design and composition the painter has thought only how to convey the story with the utmost clearness and simplicity. It is what it was intended to be, a Scripture story made visible to those who could not read. Naturalism, i.e. the actual representation of the aspect of nature, is not thought of, no more at least than was necessary to make the meaning of the painted symbol equivalent to that of the word: rock for rock, ox for ox, and ass for ass. The degree of naturalism aimed at in such scenes can be tested pretty accurately by the treatment of the nimbus. A flat circular expanse of gold inserted into a picture must necessarily be destructive of all illusion--it is treated as a symbol, a thing non-existent, but as a necessary traditional observance. When naturalism was aimed at, the nimbus was looked upon as an actual existing corona of golden light which the saint carried about with him, and it was drawn in perspective, according to the turn of his head" (Magazine of Art, 1890, p. 39). Turn next to the Nativity by Piero della Francesca (908)--a picture painted 100 years later. The symbolism is already mixed up with some conscious striving after objects beautiful in themselves. To a generation later still belongs Botticelli's "Nativity" (1034). It is full, as we shall see, of doctrinal symbolism, but it strikes the imagination also by the pomp and pageantry of the angelic host, and appeals to the senses by its flowing lines and gorgeous colourings. Yet in all these pictures of the Nativity there are certain fixed elements. One feature never absent is the introduction of the ox and the ass, suggested by a text from Habakkuk, iii. 4, "He shall lie down between the ox and the ass." A second point is that Joseph "sits apart, apparently weary or in meditation. Great care seems to have been taken to suggest that he in a certain sense held aloof, and was no participator in the interest of the scene; it was feared, perhaps, that were he to exhibit joy and surprise, it might convey the idea of paternity; he is always a mere impassive spectator." The scene of the Nativity is in the earliest pictures always represented as a cavern; a grotto at Bethlehem is to this day revered as the actual spot. In Margaritone's picture (564) we have a bare cave in the rock. In Orcagna's the cave remains, but a wooden portico or shed is added to shelter the Virgin and her Child. Next the cave disappears altogether, but the shed remains (e.g. 908, 1034).

The Adoration of the Magi (574) was a favourite subject with the Italian painters, for the three kings and their attendants gave them an excuse for the most elaborate and picturesque detail. In the picture before us Orcagna was restricted by the size and shape of the panel; but even making the necessary allowances on this score, we see that we have here a relatively simple treatment of the theme. Orcagna finds room, however, for "a perfect menagerie. There are the sheep, with a howling dog above; and below, an evil, badger-like dog, evidently much ashamed of himself and his deeds, is sneaking along into a hole in the rock. As for the amiable ox sitting upon his haunches, with his tail turned round like a cat's, and the shy ass, showing the whites of his eye: are they not delightful beauties?" (The Beasts of the National Gallery, by Sophia Beale, in Good Words, July 1895). For the rest, Orcagna's "Adoration" is limited to the necessary characters. By way of contrast, look at Filippino Lippi's (1033), in which some seventy figures are introduced, and the whole picture is alive with gay colours and picturesque incident. Other representations of the same subject in our Gallery are by Fra Angelico (582), Foppa (729), Dossi (640), Peruzzi (167), and Veronese (268). A study of similarities and differences in these various examples will disclose an immense number of coincidences. The type survives, but each feature is the subject of elaborate variations.

576. THE THREE MARIES AT THE SEPULCHRE.

Orcagna (part of the altar-piece, 569).

Mary Magdalen, Mary the mother of James, and Salome stand beside the vacant tomb (Mark xvi. 1); on the opposite side are two angels: "he is risen, he is not here, behold the place where they laid him." This subject, common with the earliest painters, is afterwards seldom met with.

577. THE ASCENSION.

Orcagna (part of the altar-piece, 569).

This was a subject in which Giotto made a new departure. None of the Byzantine or earliest Italian painters ventured to introduce the entire figure of Christ in this scene. They showed the feet only, concealing the body; according to the text, "a cloud received Him out of their sight." This form of representation may be seen in some manuscripts in the British Museum. In the Arena at Padua, Giotto broke away from this tradition and introduced the entire figure of Christ; succeeding also in conveying the idea of ascending motion very skilfully. Orcagna's picture is modelled on the new type fixed by Giotto.

578. THE DESCENT OF THE HOLY SPIRIT.

Orcagna (part of the altar-piece, 569).

The descent of the Holy Spirit is represented above; and below, the multitude confounded, every man hearing his own language.

579. THE BAPTISM OF CHRIST.

School of Taddeo Gaddi (Florentine: 1300-1366). See 215. See also (p. xix)

In the centre is John the Baptist, baptizing Christ; on the left St. Peter, on the right St. Paul. In the pictures for the predella (the step on the top of the altar, thus forming the base of the altar-piece) is a saint at either end; and then, on the left, (1) the angel announcing the Baptist's birth, (2) his birth, (3) his death, (4) Herod's feast, and (5) Herodias with John the Baptist's head in a charger. The picture must have been the work of an inferior scholar; but it is interesting to notice that this attempt to tell a consecutive story in his picture, as in an epic poem, instead of a fastening on some one turning-point in it, as in a drama, is characteristic of early art (see under 1188). Notice further in the central picture "how designedly the fish in the water are arranged: not in groups, as chance might rule in the actual stream, but in ordered procession. All great artists ... have shown this especial delight in ordering the relations of self-set details" (A. H. Macmurdo in Century Guild Hobby Horse, i. 71).

579a. PARTS OF AN ALTAR-PIECE.

School of Taddeo Gaddi (Florentine: 1300-1366). See 215. See also (p. xix)

These three panels formed the cuspidi of the Baptism of Christ (579). In the centre is the Almighty, on the left the Virgin, on the right Isaiah, holding a scroll with the words (in Latin), "Behold a virgin shall conceive."

580, 580a and b. THE ASCENSION OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST.

Jacopo Landini (Florentine: about 1310-1390).

Jacopo Landini was born at Prato Vecchio, in the Casentino; whence his common designation, Jacopo da Casentino. This picture was formerly in the Church of St. John at the painter's native place. He was a pupil of Taddeo Gaddi, and the master of Spinello Aretino.

Another of the altar-pieces (cf. 579, above), which aimed at giving the whole story of some subject, and thus recall the time when sacred pictures were (as it has been put) a kind of "Scripture Graphic." In the predella pictures (580_b_) are, on the left, (1) St. John distributing alms and baptizing, (2) his vision of Revelation in the island of Patmos, (3) his escape from the cauldron of boiling oil; and then, as the subject of the principal picture, his ascension to heaven, for, "according to the Greek legend, St. John died without pain or change, and immediately rose again in bodily form and ascended into heaven to rejoin Christ and the Virgin." In the central picture, Mr. Gilbert finds "a glimpse of true landscape feeling in the brown platform of rock, carefully gradated in aerial perspective, in the colouring, coarse though it be, and especially in the long dark sea-line beyond" (Landscape in Art, p. 184). In the other small pictures and in the pilasters are various saints, and immediately over the central picture are (1) the gates of hell cast down, (2) Christ risen from the dead, (3) the donor of the picture and his family, being presented by the two St. Johns. Of the cuspidi, or upper pictures (580a), the centre piece is a symbolic representation of the Trinity (seen best on a large scale in 727); at the sides are the Virgin and the Angel of the Annunciation, divided as explained under 1139.

581. A GROUP OF SAINTS.

Spinello Aretino (Tuscan: about 1333-1410). See also (p. xix)

Spinello di Luca Spinelli is commonly called Spinello Aretino, from Arezzo, his native town. As is the case with most of the early Tuscan painters, he is seen to greater advantage in his frescoes than in his panel pictures. Some fragments of frescoes by him are in our Gallery (1216). Important frescoes may be seen in the sacristy of S. Miniato above Florence (the life of St. Benedict); in the Campo Santo at Pisa (the histories of SS. Efeso and Potito); and in the Palazzo Pubblico at Siena (scenes in the life of Pope Alexander III.). Spinello "represents the spirit of Giotto at the close of the fourteenth century better than any other painter of the time." He belonged to a family of goldsmiths. It is interesting to note on an altar-piece executed by him for Monte Oliveto (now in the Gallery of Siena), that the names of the carver and gilder of the frame are inscribed as conspicuously as that of Spinello the painter of the picture. He was the pupil of Jacopo di Casentino.

Certainly not an adequate, and perhaps not an authentic, specimen of the master. The saints are St. John the Baptist, St. John the Evangelist, and St. James the Greater.

582. THE ADORATION OF THE MAGI.

Fra Angelico (Florentine: 1387-1455). See 663.

For the subject see notes on No. 574. Angelico's picture is remarkable for the picturesque and sparkling costumes. "The art of Angelico," says Ruskin, "both as a colourist and a draughtsman, is consummate; so perfect and beautiful, that his work may be recognised at any distance by the rainbow play and brilliancy of it. However closely it may be surrounded by other works of the same school, glowing with enamel and gold, Angelico's may be told from them at a glance, like so many pieces of opal lying among common marbles" (Stones of Venice, vol. i. app. 15).

683. THE ROUT OF SAN ROMANO.

Paolo Uccello (Florentine: 1397-1475).

This painter was originally brought up as a goldsmith, and was one of the assistants of Lorenzo Ghiberti in preparing the first pair of the celebrated gates of the Baptistery. It is doubtful with whom he learnt to paint. He introduced new enthusiasms and interests into the art, as explained below in the notes on this picture. The majority of his works have perished. He was employed principally in Florence, where frescoes by him may be seen in one of the cloisters of S. Maria Novella. At Padua he also executed some works which are said by Vasari to have been greatly admired by Andrea Mantegna. Other works by him are referred to below. The present picture is, however, the most attractive of his extant productions. He seems to have been a man of original character, and Vasari's life of him is very good reading. The biographer's statement about his poverty seems to be exaggerated, for documents exist showing that he lived in a house which he had purchased.

A picture of great interest in itself, both from a technical and from a moral point of view, and also deserving of note in the history of painting. (1) It shows the beginning of scientific "perspective" (i.e. the science of representing the form and dimensions of things as they really look, instead of as we conceive them by touch or measurement to be); the painter is pleased with the new discovery, and sets himself, as it were, the hardest problem in perspective he can find. Note the "foreshortening" of the figure on the ground (objects are said to be "foreshortened" when viewed so that we see their breadth, and not their length--for example, the leg of Titian's Ganymede in No. 32). So devoted was Paolo to his science that he became (says Vasari) more needy than famous. His wife used to complain to her friends that he sat up all night studying, and that the only answer she ever got to her remonstrances was, "What a delightful thing is this perspective!" The sculptor Donatello is also said to have remonstrated with our painter: "Ah, Paolo, with this perspective of thine, thou art leaving the substance for the shadow." Paolo was fond, too, of geometry, which he read with Manetti. He had another and a softer passion: he was so fond of birds that he was called Paul of the Birds ("Uccelli"--his family name being Paolo di Dono), and he had numbers of painted birds, cats, and dogs in his house, being too poor to keep the living creatures. (2) This picture is remarkable, secondly, as the earliest Italian work in the Gallery containing portraits, and the first which endeavours to represent a contemporary event.

Our picture has hitherto been supposed to represent the battle of Sant' Egidio (1417) in which Carlo Malatesta and his nephew Galeazzo were taken prisoners by Braccio di Montone, lord of Perugia. Other battle-pieces belonging to the same series are in the Uffizi and the Louvre respectively; and it has been shown by Mr. Herbert P. Horne (Monthly Review, October, 1901) that these are the three pictures of the "Rout of San Romano," painted by Uccello for the palace of Cosimo de' Medici, as described in an inventory of 1492. The principal figure is Niccolo Maurucci da Tolentino, the leader of the Florentine forces, directing the attack against the Sienese at San Romano in 1432. "He is represented on horseback fully armed, except for his helmet, with the baton of command in his right hand. He wears on his head a rich cappuccio, or head-dress, of gold and purple damask; while his bascinet, covered with purple velvet, is carried by his helmet-bearer, who rides by his side [the 'young Malatesta' of previous descriptions]. Above the figure of Tolentino waves his standard powdered with his impress, the 'groppo di Salomone,' a knot of curious and intricate form, in a white field." The impress may be seen again, as Mr. Horne points out, in the memorial portrait of Tolentino by Andrea del Castagno in the Cathedral of Florence.

From the moral point of view, we may see in this picture, says Ruskin, what a gentleman's view of war is, as distinguished from a boor's, with mean passion and low fury on every face. "Look at the young Malatesta,[151] riding into the battle of Sant' Egidio. His uncle Carlo, the leader of the army, a grave man of about sixty, has just given orders for the knights to close: two have pushed forward with lowered lances, and the mêlée has begun only a few yards in front; but the young knight, riding at his uncle's side, has not put his helmet on, nor intends doing so yet. Erect he sits, and quiet, waiting for his captain's order to charge; calm as if he were at a hawking party, only more grave; his golden hair wreathed about his proud white brow, as about a statue's" (Modern Painters, vol. v. pt. ix. ch. viii. § 9). Another point to notice is the type this picture affords of "the neglect of the perfectness of the earth's beauty, by reason of the passions of men. The armies meet on a country road beside a hedge of wild roses; the tender red flowers tossing above their helmets, and glowing between the lowered lances." In like manner, adds Ruskin, in the Middle Ages, when men lived for safety in walled cities, "the whole of Nature only shone for man between the tossing of helmet-crests; and sometimes I cannot but think of the trees of the earth as capable of a kind of sorrow, in that imperfect life of theirs, as they opened their innocent leaves in the warm spring-time, in vain for men; and all along the dells of England her beeches cast their dappled shade only where the outlaw drew his bow, and the king rode his careless chase" (Modern Painters, vol. v. pt. vi. ch. i. § 6).

585. PORTRAIT OF A LADY.

Umbrian School (15th century). See also (p. xix)

This picture has been dethroned by Sir Edward Poynter from the high estate which it occupied in the catalogues of former directors, wherein it figured as a portrait by Piero della Francesca (see 665) of Isotta di Rimini, the wife of Sigismondo Malatesta. Our portrait "bears little resemblance," says the official catalogue, "to the well-known medallion portraits of that lady by Matteo de' Pasti." It is, says Dr. Richter, "an indifferent production, inferior to the master in outline, as well as in the execution of the ornamental parts. It may have been done by any forgotten painter of the time" (Italian Art in the National Gallery, p. 17). "The curious stippled execution has little or nothing in common with the subtle technique of Piero" (Claude Phillips in the Academy, September 28, 1889). It is, however, interesting for its study of fashions of the time. Notice the high forehead and the sleeves and ornaments of the lady's gown.

586. MADONNA AND CHILD ENTHRONED.

Zenobio Macchiavelli (Florentine: 1418-1479).

This picture was formerly ascribed to Fra Filippo Lippi. It is now given to Macchiavelli, who was a pupil of Benozzo Gozzoli, and perhaps also of Lippi. A signed altar-piece by this painter is in the Museo Civico at Pisa; another is in the Louvre; and a third is in the National Gallery of Ireland. The latter is "a picture of singular interest," says the catalogue, "proving this master to have been one of the first of his time; full of delicacy and refinement of feeling, and the heads beautifully drawn."

Madonna and her babe, Ringed by a bowery, flowery angel-brood Lilies and vestments and white faces.

BROWNING: Fra Lippo Lippi.

A characteristic production of a school which, "orderly and obedient itself, understood the law of order in all things, which is the chief distinction between art and rudeness. And the first aim of every great painter is to express clearly his obedience to the law of Kosmos, Order, or Symmetry" (Fors Clavigera, 1876, p. 292). The four angel-faces on one side of the Madonna are matched by four on the other; the bishop and black monk on one side-compartment, by the saint and black nun on the other. Similarly at the foot of the throne the two angels are arranged symmetrically, one facing one way, the other the other. "You will at first be pained by the decision of line, and, in the children at least, uncomeliness of feature, which are characteristic, the first, of purely descended Etruscan work; the second, of the Florentine School headed afterwards by Donatello. But it is absolutely necessary, for right progress in knowledge, that you begin by observing and tracing decisive lines; and that you consider dignity and simplicity of expression more than beauty of feature" (Fors Clavigera, 1875, p. 308).

589. THE VIRGIN AND CHILD.

Fra Filippo Lippi (Florentine: about 1406-1469). See 666.

Combined with Lippi's realism of representation, "there is also an unusually mystic spiritualism of conception. Nearly all the Madonnas, even of the most strictly devotional schools, themselves support the child, either on their knees or in their arms. But here the Christ is miraculously borne by an angel" (Fors Clavigera, 1875, p. 308).

590. A PIETÀ.

Marco Zoppo (Bolognese; painted 1471-1498).

This unattractive painter was born in Bologna, and became a pupil in the school of Squarcione at Padua. His work shows also the influence of Cosimo Tura at Florence.

It is interesting to compare the various representations of the Dead Christ, or Pietà, which may be seen in the National Gallery. The subject, it may first be noted, was treated in very different ways. "Convention did not early harden down into fixity of composition or crystallise into rigid forms. A certain plasticity of imagination was permitted from the beginning; a certain indefiniteness of nomenclature and scope remained habitual to the end" (Grant Allen: see also Mrs. Jameson's History of our Lord, ii. 226). Sometimes the subject of the "Pietà" is the Mater Dolorosa, weeping over the body of the dead Saviour, and attended by saints (266, 1427) or angels (180). At other times the dead Saviour is supported by angels only (22, 219, 602), or, as in this picture, by saints. Sometimes the dead figure is represented lying at full length (22, 180); at other times it is a half-figure showing above a tomb or ledge (219, 266, 602, 590, 1427). Still more interesting is a comparison between these pictures for the illustration it gives of the different sentiment of different painters or schools. The picture before us is hard and dry; that of Crivelli (602) is full of tenderness. With some painters it is the physical horror, the bodily distortion that appeals to them in this subject. With others it is the pity and the sorrow (as, pre-eminently, in Francia's, 180).

591. THE RAPE OF HELEN.

Benozzo Gozzoli (Florentine: 1420-1498). See 283. See also (p. xix)

The earliest picture in the Gallery which was painted for domestic pleasure, not religious service. One of the earliest also in which a classical subject is attempted. It probably formed the end of a coffer or cassone,[152] such as were often given for wedding presents, and was no doubt a commission to the artist for that purpose. Hence the choice of subject (which has been variously given as the Rape of Helen and the Rape of the Venetian Brides), and the (surely intentional) comic extravagance of the drawing: the bridegroom takes giant's strides in lover's eagerness, and the ships scud along with love to speed them. The ludicrous unreality of the rocks and trees, contrasted with the beautifully painted flowers of the foreground, is very characteristic of the art of the time (cf. 283 and 582). Rocks, trees, and water are all purely "conventional" still; and "the most satisfactory work of the period is that which most resembles missal painting, that is to say, which is fullest of beautiful flowers and animals scattered among the landscape, in the old independent way, like the birds upon a screen. The landscape of Benozzo Gozzoli is exquisitely rich in incident of this kind" (Edinburgh Lectures on Architecture and Painting, ch. iii.).

592. THE ADORATION OF THE MAGI.

Filippino Lippi[153] (Florentine: 1457-1504). See 293. See also (p. xix)

This picture, with its immense retinue of followers, is "full of life and swarms with incident and expression, from the dignified gravity of St. Joseph to the fantastic humour of the dwarf. No two figures are alike, except perhaps the two shepherds who are approaching from the right, and they are different from all the rest" (Monkhouse).

593. VIRGIN AND CHILD.

Lorenzo di Credi (Florentine: 1459-1537).

Lorenzo di Andrea Credi has been called by Morelli the Carlo Dolci of the fifteenth century. His pictures are sweet and gentle, but lack force or inspiration. His colouring tends towards crudeness; his careful execution and finish are remarkable. "He was a very careful and laborious workman, distilling his own oils and grinding his own colours; and when he was working he would suffer no movement to be made," says Vasari, "that would cause dust to settle on his pictures." What Vasari adds about him may be partly seen in this and the companion picture (648), with their bright colouring and pretty distances: "His works were finished with so much delicacy that every other painting looks but just sketched and left incomplete as compared with those from his hand." Lorenzo was the son and grandson of goldsmiths, and was placed when quite a child under the tuition of Verocchio (296), and was still working under him at the age of twenty-one, content with the modest salary of one florin (about £2) a month. Like his master, he was a sculptor as well as a painter, and Verocchio in his will requested that Lorenzo might finish his famous statue (at Venice) of Bartolommeo Colleoni. (The Venetians, however, gave it to Alessandro Leopardo to finish.) Lorenzo was one of the few men who lived through the Renaissance without swerving from the religious traditions of earlier art, and even without being much influenced by his fellow-pupils--though in his grave and sweet Madonnas there is yet a suspicion of the sidelong look, half sweet, half sinister, and of the long, oval face, which distinguish Leonardo. He was a disciple of Savonarola, and burnt his share of pictures in the famous bonfire. "His will bears witness to his contrition. After having assured the future of his old woman-servant, to whom he left his bedding and an annuity in kind; after having made certain donations to his niece and to the daughter of a friend, a goldsmith; he directed that the rest of his fortune should go to the brotherhood of the indigent poor, and that his obsequies should be as simple as possible" (Müntz: Leonardo da Vinci, i. 29). Lorenzo is not represented so well in the National Gallery as in the Louvre and at Florence. His "Nativity" in the Florentine Academy is perhaps his best work. Lorenzo's range was limited, and "Holy Conversations" or "Madonnas" were his most frequent subjects. A peculiarity of them is the large head and somewhat puffy and clumsy forms he gives to the Infant Christ.

594. THE "HOLY MONEY-DESPISERS."

Emmanuel (Byzantine: about 1660).

This picture is the earliest in the Gallery (with the exception of the Greek portraits, see 1260)--not in order of time, but in order of artistic development. It is a genuine Byzantine picture, an example, therefore, of the art which prevailed in Italy from the sixth century down to about 1250, and the influence of which survived even when the Italian painters had developed an art of their own. The Byzantine style of painting is distinguished by its conventionality and its constancy. It was the recognised thing that such and such a subject should be treated in such and such a way and no other. There is a Byzantine Manual of Painting in a manuscript of the eleventh century in which instructions are given not only as to the subjects to be represented, but as to the costume, age, and lineaments of the characters. An art of this kind was naturally unchanging. This picture is probably only 200 years old, but if it had been painted 800 years ago, or if it had been ordered only the other day from the monks of Mount Athos, little difference of style would be perceptible. It is signed in Greek "The hand of Emmanouel, the priest, son of John," a painter living in Venice about the year 1660.

The picture is conventional in its choice of subject--the saints Cosmas and Damian being one of the subjects recognised in Byzantine art. They were martyrs of the fourth century--patron saints of medicine, which they practised without fees--hence their title, the "holy money-despisers." They are here receiving the Divine blessing. The picture is conventional also in its treatment. Thus the attitude of the hand is the recognised symbol whereby to express that a figure is speaking. So, too, the background is formed by a golden plain, which is meant to represent the air or the sky. The dark blue semicircle surrounding the bust of our Saviour, above the two heads of the saints, has more or less the form of the horizon, and is meant to represent the heaven in which Christ dwells (Richter's Italian Art, etc., pp. 5-7).

595. PORTRAIT OF A LADY.

Unknown (Venetian School: 15th-16th century).

One of the many pictures in the Gallery from which the so-called "æsthetic" or "high art" gowns of the present day have been copied. Formerly ascribed to Battista Zelotti, a disciple of Paul Veronese.

596. THE ENTOMBMENT OF CHRIST.

Marco Palmezzano (Umbrian: 1456-1537).

This painter was a fellow-countryman and pupil of Melozzo of Forli, who studied under Piero della Francesca, and to that extent Marco is a member of the Umbrian School. Like his master, Marco studied geometry and perspective. He was skilful in perspective, "but he scarcely ever ridded himself of a certain dryness and hardness, and his draperies are in general angular in the folds, cutting up instead of indicating the forms beneath" (Burton). His pictures abound in Forli.

This picture, originally of a semicircular shape, was the lunette of an altar-piece, painted in 1506 for the Cathedral of Forli, and now in the Gallery of that town. To the spectator's right is San Mercuriale, first bishop of Forli, holding the Guelphic banner of the church; on the left, San Valeriano with the standard of Forli.

597. "ST. VINCENTIUS FERRER."

Francesco del Cossa (Ferrarese: about 1435-1485).

Cossa was a contemporary of Cosimo Tura (772), with whom he exhibits close affinities of style. "But while Tura was fantastic, and inclined to the lavish use of decoration, Cossa, with severer views of his art, sought to give dignity and grandeur to his figures, and kept ornamentation within its proper bounds" (Official Catalogue). "It may be added that Cossa, though 'severer' in one sense, viz. that he saw more clearly and kept more strictly within the true limits of fine art, had more amenity than Tura; his decorative instinct was more refined, his sense of grace less crude. He was also a sweeter, finer, colourist" (Monkhouse). Cossa worked at Ferrara with other artists for Duke Borso, and among other works he executed some of the frescoes for the Schifanoia Palace. These have been copied by the Arundel Society. In 1470 Cossa removed to Bologna, where his best works are to be seen. The finest of them is the "Virgin and Child with St. Petronius" in the Pinacoteca--"a work of singular grandeur."

"Our beautiful panel is, for its size, as characteristic and fine a specimen of the master as exists. The painting throughout is of fine quality, the modelling and expression of the head admirable, the colour strong and fine, but soft withal, and the abundant detail executed with great skill and patience, but kept in due subordination. The strange background, with its fantastic erections, half architecture half rock, is of less beauty, but equally characteristic of the artist" (Monkhouse: In the National Gallery, p. 167). The picture, once ascribed to Marco Zoppo, has been now recognised as the central panel of an altar-piece by Cossa, of which the wings are in the Brera at Milan, and the predella is in the Picture Gallery of the Vatican. The Dominican represented has at various times been supposed to be St. Dominic himself, St. Vincentius Ferrer, and St. Hyacinth. The predella pictures are of scenes in the life of St. Hyacinth, who therefore is probably the subject of our panel also. He was a member of the Dominican Order (whose habit he wears), a Pole by birth, and a missionary in Russia. St. Vincentius Ferrer was a Spaniard of Valencia, who in 1374, at the age of 17, entered the Dominican Order, died in 1419, and was canonised in 1455.

598. ST. FRANCIS WITH THE "STIGMATA."

Filippino Lippi (Florentine: 1457-1504). See 293.

St. Francis, the founder of the Franciscan Order of monks (the Black Friars), was the great apostle of Works, whilst St. Dominic, the founder of the Dominican Order (White Friars), was the great apostle of Faith. It was the teaching of these two orders that gave the impetus to the church building, from which grew the art revival at Florence in the thirteenth century. "The gospel of works, according to St. Francis, lay in three things. You must work without money, and be poor. You must work without pleasure, and be chaste. You must work according to orders, and be obedient." And so truly did he in his own works exemplify the life of Christ, that, according to the legend of the time, he received also in his own person the wounds (or "stigmata") of the Crucified One--here visible on his hands. ("Take my yoke upon you"; or "Take up the cross and follow me.") "His reception of the 'stigmata' is, perhaps, a marvellous instance of the power of imagination over physical conditions; perhaps an equally marvellous instance of the swift change of metaphor into tradition; but assuredly, and beyond dispute, one of the most influential, significant, and instructive traditions possessed by the Church of Christ."

The saint is here represented in glory; choirs of singing angels encompass him; for now "the wounds of his Master are his inheritance, the cross--sign not of triumph, but of trial, is his reward" (Mornings in Florence, i. 8, 13; iii. 64). Inscribed on the picture below are some lines from a Latin hymn to St. Francis, exhorting others to follow him, and to advance as he did the standards of their king ("Let those who depart out of Egypt follow him, and be united to him, in whom the standards of the King come forth for us in clear light").

The floating angels recall those by Botticelli, but the pupil's work is not here so good: these angels seem after all to be standing, Botticelli's to be indeed floating in thin air. Lippi, too, learnt no doubt from him the goldsmith's work, seen here in the indented background to the picture.

599. THE MADONNA OF THE MEADOW.

Giovanni Bellini (Venetian: 1426-1516). See 189. See also (p. xix)

A very charming little picture, marred only by a certain insipidity in the expression of the Madonna--which contrasts markedly alike with the pathetic type of Bellini's early Madonnas (e.g. No. 288), and with the more stately type which he afterwards adopted (as in the altar-piece in the Academy at Venice). "The landscape is altogether interesting, and will well repay a long examination. The incident of the bird and the serpent should not be missed, and the Eastern sheep with the long ears and its stately attendant in the white burnous should be noted as an attempt to give some Oriental character to the scene" (Monkhouse: In the National Gallery, p. 220). "The exquisite opaline purity of its daylight, the delicacy and finish of every detail, the walls and towers of the little town serene in the rays of morning, and the mountain ranges, pure and lovely in definition--all these graces make the picture one of the joys of art" (Gilbert's Landscape in Art, p. 330).

This picture has at different times been given several different attributions, of which the most cautious was "School of Bellini." In earlier editions of the Official Catalogue it was ascribed to Basaiti (see 281); but now (1898) to Bellini. Sir Edward Poynter refers in support of this alteration to the close resemblance of the present picture to a signed work by Bellini in the Giovanelli Palace at Venice, and, as regards the background, to No. 812 in our gallery. Sir Walter Armstrong (Notes on the National Gallery, p. 24) draws attention to the similarity in the baby's hands here and in 224, and would ascribe both pictures to Catena. The correct settlement of disputed points of attribution like this is highly important for the history of painting, but meanwhile the very fact of such disputes has a useful significance, as showing what is meant by the old "schools" of painting. Individual peculiarities are only discovered by minutest examinations; but beneath such differences there are in each school similarities of treatment and conception which come from common traditions and common teaching, and which cause critics of equal intelligence to attribute the same pictures to different masters of the school.

600. THE BLIND BEGGAR.

J. L. Dyckmans (Flemish: 1811-1888).

Josef Laurens Dyckmans, a pupil of Wappers, was for some time Professor of the Academy of Painting at Antwerp.

"A blind old man is standing in the sunshine by a church door: before him is a young girl, who is holding out her hand for alms to the passers-by; an old lady coming from the church is feeling in her pocket for a sou; some other figures are seen in the porch at their devotions before a crucifix. Painted at Antwerp, signed J. Dyckmans, 1853" (Official Catalogue). "The picture is painted in a tone of colour exceedingly low, but the whole is worked to an extreme finish; the heads in fact are elaborated with a care such as Denner's pictures show. In these days of light and glowing harmonies the eye is at once struck with the abstinence from colour which the artist has made a cardinal principle in the execution of his work" (Art Journal, July 1864). This picture was presented by Miss Jane Clark, who paid 900 guineas for it.

602. A "PIETÀ."

Carlo Crivelli (Venetian: painted 1468-1493).

Crivelli is one of the most individual of painters, and no collection is so rich in his works as the National Gallery. He was a native of Venice, and his work shows marked affinities with the school of Padua. Of his life, little is known except that in, or shortly before, the year 1468 he settled at Ascoli in the Marches of Ancona. In that neighbourhood he seems to have spent the rest of his life, in the employment mainly of various religious fraternities. He thus lived somewhat outside the artistic world of his time, a fact which serves to explain the rather conservative character of his art. Thus he adhered to the tempera medium. He adhered also to the Byzantine traditions of the old Venetian School with its fondness for the "ancona," or altar-piece consisting of many single figures each in its separate compartment, and for gilt and silvered ornaments in high relief. There is, too, a vein of affectation in his pictures which contrasts strongly with the naturalistic tendency in contemporary Venetian art. Owing to a little touch of vanity in the painter we are able to date many of his pictures. For it is known that he was knighted in 1490, and so proud was "Sir Charles" of his new honour that he signed all subsequent pictures "Carlo Crivelli, Knight." No. 724 is probably the first he finished after the reception of the coveted honour. His love of accessories, and especially of fruit, will strike every visitor; and so also will the brilliance of his colouring and the unerring, if somewhat harsh, exactness of his outlines. For tender pathos the present picture is remarkable. His range was, as we shall see, somewhat limited. He seldom attempted compositions on any large scale, and his subject pictures are few: No. 739 is one of the best of them. He excelled rather in single figures, and in these we find expressed, "in quaint combination, morose asceticism, passionate and demonstrative grief, verging on caricature, occasional grandeur of conception and presentment, knightly dignity, feminine sweetness and tenderness mingled with demure and far-fetched grace" (Sir F. Burton). Up to the end of the eighteenth century Crivelli's works were still to be found in their original places, in the churches and convents of Eastern Italy, where they attracted little attention. The suppression of the convents after the age of the Revolution brought them into notice, and English collectors purchased them in large numbers. In recent years this appreciation has steadily increased. The large altar-piece, 788, was bought in 1868 for £3360. At the Dudley sale in 1892, the altar-piece, now in the Berlin Museum, fetched £7350.

This little picture is part of an altar-piece formerly in a church at Monte Fiore, near Fermo: other portions are at Brussels. The picture is signed, but not dated; the piece of red watered silk which hangs over the edge of the tomb is characteristic of Crivelli's earlier period. Its prettily pathetic sentiment and brilliant tone make it one of the painter's most attractive works. For some remarks on the subject, see under 590.

621. THE HORSE FAIR.

Rosa Bonheur (French: 1822-1899).

Mdlle. Rosalie Bonheur, usually called Rosa Bonheur, the most vigorous and spirited of French animal painters, was born at Bordeaux. Her parents had a sharp struggle for existence. Her mother taught music; her father--Raymond Bonheur--drawing. He was a painter of some ability, and all the children inherited an artistic bent. When the family removed to Paris, Rosa's precocious talents rapidly developed. They lived next door to a tavern which was a house of call for diligences and market-waggons, and there she found inexhaustible material for animal studies. Her brother, Auguste, became an animal and landscape painter of repute; another brother, Isidore, an animal sculptor; her sister, Juliette, who married M. Peyrol, was also a well-known painter. In the Salon of 1848 the whole family exhibited. From the common purse, when they were children, a goat was bought for a model, which they used to carry up to their humble studio. Another place of study with Rosa Bonheur was the Abattoir du Roule, "where, with characteristic fortitude, she not only controlled her natural repugnance to scenes of slaughter, but overcame all the disgust which attended the 'brutalité grossière' of the people employed there. Even at this early period she studied not only the outward aspects and anatomical construction of the creatures she painted, but their passions and tempers. Among the friends to whom she always referred with grateful pleasure as helpful in these days was Paul Delaroche, who called at the humble family quarters on a sixth floor, and was not sparing in his admiration." Rosa had first been apprenticed to a dressmaker, but her love of art impelled her to give up this occupation, and she succeeded in contributing to the family exchequer by the sale of copies made in the Louvre. In 1841, when only 19, she exhibited two pictures in the Salon. Her mother died in 1833, and in 1845 her father married again; from that time forward she lived an independent life. Her famous "Labourage Nivernais," now in the Luxembourg, was painted in 1848. This greatly increased her reputation, and she was able to secure for her father the post of director of the Women's Painting School, established by the Government in Paris. His death in the following year affected her greatly, and she did not exhibit again until 1853, when "The Horse Fair," Le Marché aux Chevaux, appeared. Through engravings and photographs this work made the name of Rosa Bonheur famous throughout the world. She visited Spain and Scotland, and painted pictures of both those countries. Her permanent residence was an estate at By in the forest of Fontainebleau, which she purchased in 1855. There ten years later she was personally invested by the Emperor of the French with the Cross of the Legion of Honour, an honour confirmed in later years by President Carnot. A still higher compliment was paid her in 1870-1871, when her studio and residence were spared from any intrusion, by the special order of Prince Frederick Charles. For many years she regularly attended horse fairs both in France--such as she has here depicted--and abroad, adopting as a rule men's costume in order to carry out her studies and purchases without attracting attention. Mr. Frith relates how when he and Sir John Millais went to lunch with her in 1858, they were met at the station by a carriage, the coachman appearing to be a French Abbé. "The driver wore a black broad-brimmed hat and black cloak, long white hair with a cheery rosy face. It was Rosa Bonheur, who lives at her château with a lady companion, and others in the form of boars, lions, and deer, who serve as models." Gambart, who was of the party, "repeated to her some words of praise given by Landseer to a picture of hers, then exhibiting in London. Her eyes filled with tears as she listened." "When one sees this young artist," wrote a journalist in 1852, "small of stature and of delicate appearance, standing by a huge canvas, he would be tempted to think that her powers had not attained the full height of their ambition; but when he comes to make note of the straight, resolute lines of the artist's features, her full square forehead, her thick hair, cut as short as that of a man, and her dark, quick flashing eyes, he ceases to fear. He then realises that it is not reckless audacity which impels her forward in her work, but a greatness of soul and a consciousness of her strength." "Few artistic careers," says her brother-in-law, "have been more active, more brilliant, or more characterised by simple and quiet dignity, or perhaps, on the whole, more happy. Having known during her youngest days the terrible inconvenience of poverty, Rosa Bonheur raised herself, by her talent alone, to a position of independence and fortune. She was privileged to enjoy at the same time the charms of fame and the sweets of obscurity." She never abandoned the retired habits of life she loved, and she was able to continue her studies to the end.

"The magnificent stallions with their powerful forms pass before us at a trot, kicking up the dust under their feet. Full of life and movement, and thoroughly imbued with realism, but of a beautiful and noble realism. The composition is admirable, and brings out finely the energy and spirit of the horse. The scene represents the horses as having just reached the market, and as being in the act of falling back to re-form for their proper places. The fine trees in the background of the picture, under which, upon a rising ground, the dealers and buyers take up their position, are obscured on the left by the haze, and by the clouds of dust raised by the trotting horses; in the background, too, at the extreme left, is seen the small dome of the Salpêtrière. The Marché aux Chevaux of Paris was at that time situate in the Boulevard l'Hôpital, not far from the Orleans railway; but in consequence of changes, the market has lost the picturesque aspect it wore in 1853. One looks in vain now for the large trees which then shadowed it, and the bold earth, covered in places by short dusty grass and broken up by the trampling of the horses.... A mingling of art and truth is very obvious in 'The Horse Fair.' The irregular order of the horses, their different movements bringing into play all their muscles; the different spots of their coats, so disposed as to set off one another, and furnishing at the same time a charming variety to the eye; the powerful dappled Perche horses, which pass in the foreground and constitute the centre of the picture, with the groups of black[154] and white horses which rear themselves up on their hind feet--all this shows a profoundly skilful arrangement, and results in a grand and harmonious ensemble. Yet the first impression which this picture gives is that of a scene taken from the life, and of intense realism. The freedom and breadth of the execution are equal to the beauty of the composition. The vigorous touch, and the powerful drawing also help to give this picture a spirited character and masculine vigour in perfect harmony with the subject it represents" (René Peyrol in the Art Annual on Rosa Bonheur). Ruskin, while bearing his testimony to the artist's power, calls attention to "one stern fact concerning art" which here detracts from her full success. "No painter of animals ever yet was entirely great, who shrank from painting the human face; and Mdlle. Bonheur does shrink from it.... In the 'Horse Fair,' the human faces are nearly all dexterously, but disagreeably, hidden, and the one clearly shown has not the slightest character. Mdlle. Bonheur may rely upon this, that if she cannot paint a man's face, she can neither paint a horse's, a dog's, nor a bull's. There is in every animal's eye a dim image and gleam of humanity, a flash of strange light through which their life looks out and up to our great mystery of command over them, and claims the fellowship of the creature, if not of the soul.[155] I assure Mdlle. Bonheur, strange as the words may sound to her, after what she has been told by huntsmen and racers, she has never painted a horse yet. She has only painted trotting bodies of horses" (Academy Notes, etc. 1858, p. 32).

The original of this famous composition--probably the best-known and most popular animal picture of our epoch--was exhibited in the Salon in 1853. The painter had been engaged on it for a long time, and had made innumerable studies for it. She used to call it "her Parthenon Frieze." It was sold to Mr. Gambart, the picture-dealer, who brought it to England. It made a great sensation in London, and afterwards went on a provincial tour. It then travelled to America where it was sold, and is now in the New York Museum. Rosa Bonheur painted for Gambart two repetitions of it on a smaller scale. One of these, the picture before us, was bought by Mr. Jacob Bell, who bequeathed it to the nation in 1859. It was the first work by a living foreign painter to be admitted to the Gallery.

623. MADONNA AND CHILD ENTHRONED.

Girolamo da Treviso (Venetian: 1497-1544).

Girolamo, the son and pupil of Piermaria Pennachi, was born at Treviso. He painted at Venice, Genoa, Trent, Faenza, and Bologna, at which latter place several of his frescoes and paintings remain. Between the years 1535 and 1538 he returned to Venice and became intimate with Titian, Sansovino, and Aretino. "In 1542," says Vasari, "he repaired to England, where he was so favoured by certain of his friends, who recommended him to the king (Henry VIII.), that he was at once appointed to the service of that monarch. Presenting himself to the English sovereign accordingly, Girolamo was employed, not as painter, but as engineer, and having given proofs of his ability in various edifices, copied from such as he had seen in Tuscany and other parts of Italy, the king admired them greatly. Nay, furthermore, his majesty rewarded the master with large gifts, and ordained him a stipend of four hundred crowns a year, giving him at the same time opportunity and permission to erect an honourable abode for himself, the cost of which was borne by the king." Girolamo had, however, to erect also some bastions at Boulogne, and there "he was struck by a cannon-ball, which came with such violence that it cut him in two as he sat on his horse. And so were his life and all the honours of this world extinguished together, all his greatness departing in a moment." His works are now scarce. No. 218 in this gallery may be the copy made by Girolamo from Peruzzi's drawing, No. 167.

This picture, formerly the altar-piece of the Boccaferri chapel in S. Domenico at Bologna, is signed by the painter and is mentioned by Vasari (iii. 287) as "the best of his works: it represents the Madonna with numerous saints (Joseph, James, and Paul), and contains the portrait of the person by whom the painter was commissioned to execute the work." Girolamo, who, as we have seen, was a man of travel, "did not remain faithful to the tradition of art as professed at Venice and Treviso, and might be called rather a forerunner of the eclectic schools.... The head of St. Paul is apparently copied from Raphael's picture of St. Cecilia in Bologna. In the types of other figures, in the colouring and in the landscape, we perceive the influence of Dosso Dossi and of Garofalo" (Richter's Italian Art, etc. p. 87).

624. THE INFANCY OF JUPITER.

Giulio Romano (Roman: 1492-1546).

Giulio Pippi, called "the Roman," was born at Rome, and was Raphael's favourite pupil; to him Raphael bequeathed his implements and works of art. But the master could not also bequeath his spirit, and in Giulio's works (such as 643 and 644, which, however, are now attributed to a pupil), though "the archæology is admirable, the movements of the actors are affected and forced, and the whole result is a grievous example of the mannerism already beginning to prevail" (Woltmann and Woermann: History of Painting, ii. 562). "Raphael worked out the mine of his own thought so thoroughly, so completely exhausted the motives of his invention, and carried his style to such perfection, that he left nothing unused for his followers.... In the Roman manner the dramatic element was conspicuous; and to carry dramatic painting beyond the limits of good style in art is unfortunately easy.... For all the higher purposes of genuine art, inspiration passed from his pupils as colour fades from Eastern clouds at sunset, suddenly" (Symonds's Renaissance, iii. 359).... "Giulio Romano alone, by dint of robust energy and lurid fire of fancy flickering amid the smoke of his coarser nature, achieved a triumph. His Palazzo del Te at Mantua may be cited as the most perfect production of the epoch, combining, as it does, all forms of antique decoration and construction with the vivid individuality of genius" (Symonds, ii. 319; iii. 360). It was in 1523 that Giulio entered the service of Federigo Gonzaga, Duke of Mantua, and besides executing a very large number of works in oil and fresco, he was distinguished as an architect and rebuilt nearly the whole town.[156] Vasari made his acquaintance there, and admired his works so much that Giulio deserved, he said, to see a statue of himself erected at every corner of the city. During his earlier period at Rome, Giulio was entrusted with the completion of the frescoes of the Sala di Costantino in the Vatican. Among his best oil-pictures are the "Martyrdom of St. Stephen" in the church of that saint at Genoa, and a "Holy Family" in the Dresden Gallery.

An illustration of the classic myth of the infancy of Jupiter, who was born in Crete and hidden by his mother, Rhea, in order to save him from his father Saturn ("all-devouring Time"), who used to devour his sons as soon as they were born, from fear of the prophecy that one of them would dethrone him. In the background are the Curetes "who, as the story is, erst drowned in Crete that infant cry of Jove, when the young band about the babe in rapid dance, arms in hand to measured tread, beat brass on brass, that Saturn might not get him to consign to his devouring jaws" (Lucretius, Munro's translation, ii. 629). This picture has been much admired by artists. Samuel Palmer, the friend of William Blake, wrote of it: "By the bye, if you want to see a picture bound by a splendid imagination upon the fine, firm, old philosophy, do go and look at the Julio Romano (Nursing of Jupiter) in the National Gallery. That is precisely the picture Blake would have revelled in. I think I hear him say, 'As fine as possible, Sir! It is not permitted to man to do better!'" (Memoir of Anne Gilchrist, p. 59). Elsewhere Palmer proposed to a friend as a compact test of taste the question: "Do I love the Julio Romano in the National Gallery?" (Life and Letters of Samuel Palmer, p. 250). Another distinguished artist, John Linnell, was also a great admirer of the picture. He strongly urged its purchase for the National Gallery, declaring it to be "full of beauty and without any alloy" (Story's Life of Linnell, ii. 123).

625. AN ALTAR-PIECE.

Il Moretto (Brescian: 1498-1555). See 299.

The principal figure is St. Bernardino of Siena (1380-1444). He was one of the most celebrated preachers of his time: hence the words on the open book which he is represented as holding in his left hand, "Father, I have manifested thy name to men." The Gospel which he preached was "Salvation through Jesus Christ": hence the circle in his right hand with the Latin monogram "I.H.S." (Jesus the Saviour of mankind). He came of a noble family, but the secret of his power was his determination to live amongst the poor ones of the earth: hence at his feet are mitres inscribed with the names of the three cities of which he refused the bishoprics. The attendant saints are Sts. Jerome, Joseph, Francis (to whose order Bernardino belonged), and Nicholas of Bari. Above is a vision of the only crown to which St. Bernardino aspired--the company of the saints, the Virgin and Child, St. Catherine, and St. Clara. Into the pervading expression of simple and humble piety the artist has put, perhaps, something of his own character; for he was a man of great personal piety, and he is said to have always prepared himself (like Fra Angelico before him) by prayer and fasting for any important work of sacred art. Something, too, of this ascetic ideal may be seen in the attenuated figures of his saints.

"In those who already know Moretto, this altar-piece will," says Mr. Pater, "awake many a reminiscence of his art at its best. The three white mitres, for instance, grandly painted towards the centre of the picture, at the feet of St. Bernardino, may remind one of the great white mitre which, in the genial picture of St. Nicholas, in the Miracoli at Brescia, one of the children, who as delightfully unconventional acolytes accompany their beloved patron into the presence of the Madonna, carries along so willingly, laughing almost, with pleasure and pride, at his part in so great a function. In the altar-piece at the National Gallery those white mitres form the keynote from which the pale, cloistral splendours of the whole picture radiate. You see what a wealth of enjoyable colour Moretto, for one, can bring out of monkish habits in themselves sad enough, and receive a new lesson in the artistic value of reserve" ("Art Notes in North Italy," in New Review, November 1890).

626. PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG MAN.

Botticelli (Florentine: 1447-1510). See 1034.

This portrait was formerly ascribed in the Official Catalogue to Masaccio. The wish was perhaps father to the thought, for Masaccio is a very important person in the development of art (being the leader of the scientific movement in Florentine painting, and also "the first man," says Ruskin, "who entirely broke through the conventionality of his time and painted pure landscape"), and is not otherwise represented in the National Gallery. Mr. Wornum (the late Keeper) ascribed the portrait to Filippino Lippi; it is now ascribed to Botticelli, who was also distinguished in portrait-painting, which in his time was becoming increasingly fashionable. "The waving lines in the falling hair, and the drawing of the mouth, seem to leave no doubt that Botticelli alone is the author of this impressive, yet simple and unpretentious, likeness of an unknown Florentine" (Richter: Italian Art in the National Gallery, p. 24).

627, 628. WATERFALLS.

Ruysdael (Dutch: 1628-1682).

Jacob van Ruysdael is usually accounted the greatest of the Dutch landscape painters. He often painted wild scenery, but it is perhaps in the quiet, and as it were uneventful pictures from the neighbourhood of Haarlem, that he charms us most. "At each moment in the country around Haarlem," says M. Michel, "the name of Ruysdael occurs to one with a recollection of some picture of his. One can follow his course and even find the very place where he must have sat." "Of all the Dutch painters," says Fromentin, "Ruysdael is the one who has the noblest resemblance to his country. He has its spaciousness, its sadness, its somewhat gloomy placidity, its monotonous and tranquil charm." But though in this way a product of the soil, Ruysdael's genius is essentially human and individual. His means of expression were the simplest. His touch is crisp and spirited, his workmanship thorough and conscientious; but he had no adventitious aids to attraction. There is, however, continues Fromentin, something in his works which compels respect. "It is the conviction created by them that they are the outcome of a great man who has something to say. The cause of his superiority to others is to be found in this, that there is behind the painter a man who thinks, behind each of his pictures an idea. In studying a picture by Ruysdael we become interested also in the personality of the painter. We find ourselves asking questions. Had he joys, as he certainly had bitterness? Did destiny give him occasion to love other things than clouds, and from what did he suffer most, if he did suffer, from the torment of painting well or of living? All these questions remain without answer, and yet posterity is interested in them. Would it occur to you to ask as much about Berchem, Karel Dujardin, Wouwerman, Goyen, Terburg, Metsu, Peter de Hoogh himself? All these brilliant or charming painters painted, and that seems to suffice. Ruysdael painted, but he also lived, and that is why it matters so much to know how he lived. I know only three or four men in the Dutch school whose personality is thus interesting--Rembrandt, Ruysdael, Paul Potter, and possibly Cuyp, which is already more than is enough to classify them" (Les Maitres d'Autrefois, Hollande, ch. vii. See also M. Emile Michel's article in the Revue des deux Mondes for 1888). What we find pre-eminently in Ruysdael is a mind in harmony with nature in her simplest and most sombre moods. "The grey vapour that overspreads his skies seldom admits a fleeting gleam of sunshine to pass through" (Burton). Ruysdael is remarkable also for a certain solemn love of solitude, and this love of nature in itself, undisturbed by the incidents of daily life, distinguishes him from most of his contemporaries, and accounts, perhaps, for his popularity in more modern times. Goethe, who admired Ruysdael greatly, calls special attention to the painter's success in "representing the Past in the Present," and in suggesting to the spectator that "the works of nature live and last longer than the works of men"("Ruysdael als Dichter").

The sense of isolation perceptible in his pictures is in keeping also with what we know of his life. He was born at Haarlem, the son of a picture-dealer and frame-maker, but became a citizen of Amsterdam. His father intended him for the medical profession, but he probably received instruction in painting from his uncle, Salomon van Ruysdael (1439). He remained unmarried in order, it is said, to promote the comfort of his aged father. He belonged to the sect of the Mennonites, who enjoined on their disciples strict separation from the world. In Ruysdael's case the world also separated itself from him. His talents were ignored by the great public of his day; and in 1681 he was admitted into the town's almshouse at Haarlem, where he died in the following year. His landscapes are now eagerly sought after and command high prices. His views are mostly taken from the northern provinces of the Netherlands; the Norwegian scenery which he introduced in many of his later works being studied probably from sketches by Van Everdingen. But it is probable, though (as a writer in the Quarterly Review observes) no direct evidence in confirmation has yet been found, "that Ruysdael went to Norway either with or without Everdingen, and for a time steeped himself in the spirit of the wild landscape. The large number of works of the waterfall class that we possess show that he was deeply impressed by the artistic and ethical qualities of the landscape. Severe, remote, and melancholy, these Norwegian solitudes appealed to the mind of this most solitary of artists, in whose art, as Goethe said, the poetry of loneliness has found an eternal expression."

Waterfalls are a speciality with the painter (the name Ruysdael appropriately signifies foaming water). "Ordinary running or falling water may be sufficiently rendered, by observing careful curves of projection with a dark ground, and breaking a little white over it, as we see done with judgment and taste by Ruysdael" (Modern Painters, vol. i. pt. ii. sec. v. ch. i. § 2). "Ruysdael's painting of falling water," adds Ruskin (ibid. §21), "is generally agreeable; more than agreeable it can hardly be considered. There appears no exertion of mind in any of his works; nor are they calculated to produce either harm or good by their feeble influence. They are good furniture pictures, unworthy of praise, and undeserving of blame." It is interesting to compare this damningly faint praise from Ruskin with the words of another critic. "Where is the traveller," asks M. Charles Blanc, "familiar with the impressive beauties of mountainous countries, who cannot find them in the pictures of Ruysdael? At the foot of those steep rocks how the water falls, foams, and writhes round the ruins it has brought down! It dashes forward from the right, from the left, and from the background of the picture towards the gulf which draws it in; it rushes down, I was going to say, with a hollow noise, for in fact one imagines one can almost hear it. We see it gliding down the slippery rocks, dashing against the rough bark of the trees, and gushing down the rugged bottom of the ravine. We fancy we feel the cold and humid spray falling on our faces.... But such is the power of genius, that after having seen in all its magnificent reality the spectacle which the artist has reproduced on a piece of canvas some few inches in magnitude, nature seems to us less grand and less startling than the work of Ruysdael."

629. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Lorenzo Costa (Ferrarese: 1460-1535).

Lorenzo Costa was a pupil of Cosimo Tura, at Ferrara, but was soon drawn away to Bologna, where he worked with Francia. The friendship of these two men is a good instance of the unity between the different arts in the Middle Ages. Thus the workshop of Francia at Bologna consisted of two stories. In the upper story, pictures were painted under the supervision of Costa; whilst in the lower, gold and silver works were executed, and coins stamped, under the direction of Francia. Costa remained for twenty-three years at Bologna, where many of his principal works still exist. The altar-piece in the church of S. Giovanni in Monte is the most remarkable. In 1509, invited by the Marquis Francesco Gonzaga, whose wife was Isabella d'Este, Costa fixed his abode in Mantua, where he remained till his death. He depicted their court in an allegorical composition, now in the Louvre. "Costa's style," says Sir F. Burton, "varied during his long career. His earlier works bear signs of his filiation to Tura and Cossa. In later productions we may trace more of the amenity of Umbrian art, and finally the influence of his own pupil Francia. His best merits are a gentle gravity and a sense of colour. Want of force mars what is meant for grace."

This picture (which is signed, and dated 1505) should be compared with the Perugino in the next room (288), for Lorenzo Costa has been called "the Perugino of Ferrara," and works of his are in many galleries wrongly attributed to Perugino. Every one will feel that there is a grace and a sweetness here which recalls Perugino. Lorenzo, too, has Perugino's fondness for a "purist" landscape (see 288); and note the curious device, peculiar to the Ferrarese School, by which he introduces it. The Madonna's throne is constructed in two parts, so that between the base and the upper part a vacant space is left, through which we look into the open air ("Thus saith the Lord, the heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool"). One of Costa's weaknesses may be observed in the figures of the standing saints. "His figures are seldom planted firmly on the ground--a fault which he shared with Francia. The ill-understood folds of their garments obscure the form, and trail upon the ground in meaningless tags. This insensibility on the part of Costa to one of the noblest means of expression in art is remarkable, inasmuch as the works of Francesco Cossa might have set him an example of draperies carefully studied, true to fact, and often grandly disposed" (Burton).

630. MADONNA AND CHILD WITH SAINTS.

Gregorio Schiavone (Paduan: painted about 1470).

A picture of historical interest, as being the earliest in the Gallery of the Paduan School. Gregorio, the Sclavonian (i.e. Dalmatian), though not, one must think, a very good artist, was proud of his master, and this picture is signed (on the little card below the throne) "the work of Schiavone, the pupil of Squarcione." That master's style was distinguished by its sculpturesque quality; and in the works of a somewhat clumsy pupil like Gregorio ("this Dalmatian clodhopper," Morelli calls him) one sees this tendency carried to excess; the outline of the Madonna's face here, and still more in 904, is quite grotesquely sharp. Another characteristic of the school is exemplified in both Gregorio's pictures--the choice, namely, of antique embellishments, of bas-reliefs, and festoons of fruit, in the accessories. Thus note here the bas-relief behind the Madonna's chair, and in 904 the festoons of fruit upon the arch.

631. PORTRAIT OF A LADY.

Ascribed to Francesco Bissolo (Venetian: painted 1500-1528).

By one of Bellini's pupils and imitators. Observe the rich dress of a Byzantine stuff embroidered with strange animals, such as one sees in the old mosaics at Venice. The lady wears too a long gold chain, as the Venetian women do to this day.

632, 633. TWO SAINTS.

Girolamo da Santa Croce (Venetian: painted 1520-1550).

Girolamo--a relation probably of Francesco Rizo, also of Santa Croce (a village near Bergamo)--was one of the weaker followers of Giovanni Bellini. Morelli mentions, as a sign by which Girolamo's pictures, which are frequently met with in North Italian galleries, may often be recognised, that "he introduced a parrot whenever the subject he was treating would allow it, just as Paolo Farinato used to put a snail into his paintings as a sort of mark."

These two panels were formerly the doors of an altar-piece.

634. THE MADONNA OF THE GOLDFINCH.

Cima da Conegliano (Venetian: 1460-1518). See 300.

The Madonna here wears a graver expression than is common with Cima. There is the usual hilly background, with the ruins of a Roman temple introduced on the left.

635. THE "REPOSE."

Titian (Venetian: 1477-1576). See 4.

The subject of this radiantly beautiful picture is the familiar "Repose" of the Holy Family during their flight into Egypt; "perfect serenity and repose" are the keynote of the composition. The introduction of St. John the Baptist, and St. Catherine[157] embracing the Holy Child, and in the distance the angel appearing to the shepherds, serve as the sign-manuals to mark the sacred subject. For the rest it is a simple domestic scene, laid amongst the hills of Titian's country, near Ceneda, on the way to Cadore:--

To this Ceneda scenery I would assign those charming mixtures of woodland and plain,--those sweeping intermingling lines of hill, here broken by a jutting rock, sinking there into the sudden depth of bosky shades,--which are another characteristic of Titian's landscape. The play of light and shade over such a country, throwing out now this, now that, of the billowy ranges as they alternately smiled in sunshine, or frowned in shadow; now printing off a tower or a crag, dark against a far-off flitting gleam, now touching into brightness a cottage or a castle; he specially delighted to record.... It must have been from the village of Caverzano, and within an easy walk from Belluno, that he took the mountain forms, and noted the sublime effect upon them of evening light, introduced in the "Madonna and St. Catherine." The lines of hill and mountain are identical with a record in my sketch-book, and the sharp-pointed hill, almost lost in the rays, is one of the most familiar features in the neighbourhood of Belluno (Gilbert: Cadore, pp. 36, 59).

Mr. Gilbert makes another interesting remark, which may be verified in this picture with its flocks of sheep, as well as in 270, with its farm buildings:

Another characteristic of Titian's landscape, and new in his time, is his perception of its domestic charm--the sweetness of a home landscape. A cottage, a farm, a mill, take the place with him of the temples, towers, and lordly palaces of town-bred painters.... Honest travellers on a country track, or sleeping in the shade; the peasant going forth to labour, or returning with his tools; the high-roofed, quaintly gabled farm, with its nondescript surroundings, and all set snugly on the bosky knoll ... these are his favourite subjects. But they never would have been so to a thorough Venetian. They show us the man of the hills--the breezy, happy hills: the man of many pleasant memories, upon the sward, beside the brook, under the bending boughs: the man who carried no city apprehensions, or city squeamishness to country places, but was at home anywhere under the broad heaven (ibid. p. 60).

The colour-scheme of this masterpiece is worth noting. It is in keeping with the effect of coolness and repose aimed at in the composition. "The dominant chord is composed by the cerulean blues of the heaven and of the Virgin's dress, the deep luscious greens of the landscape and the peculiar pale citron hue, relieved with a crimson girdle, of the robe worn by St. Catherine. With this exception there is not a trace of red in the picture. Contrary to almost universal usage, it might almost be said to orthodoxy, the entire draperies of the Virgin are of one intense blue. Her veil-like headgear is of a brownish-gray, while the St. Catherine wears a golden-brown scarf, continuing the glories of her elaborately dressed hair. The audacity of the colour-scheme is only equalled by its success; no calculated effort at anything unusual being apparent" (Claude Phillips: The Later Work of Titian, p. 10).

This picture, which is signed TICIAN, was formerly in the Sacristy of the Escurial; it has the Escurial mark on the back. A "Madonna with St. Catherine" by Titian is mentioned in a letter of 1530 written by Giacomo Malatesta to Federigo Gonzaga at Mantua. The reference is supposed by Crowe and Cavalcaselle to be to the "Vierge au Lupin" of the Louvre; but it may be to our picture (see Phillips: The Earlier Work of Titian, p. 82 n.).

636. "PORTRAIT OF A POET."

Titian; or Palma Vecchio (Bergamese: 1480-1528). See also (p. xix)

This picture was long ascribed to Titian; then for many years to Palma (of whom, therefore, some notice is here retained); now it has been restored by the officials to Titian. Others believe it to be the work of Giorgione (see below).

Jacopo Palma, the elder (II Vecchio), is one of the most illustrious of the "post-Bellinian School" of painters at Venice. But he was born near Bergamo and "could never entirely lay aside his mountain nature in his works" (see Morelli's German Galleries, pp. 13-18, 24-31, for the best account of Palma's place in art history). He was especially great in the Holy Families, called by the Italians "Sante Conversazioni," in which the figures of sacred story are grouped together in restful attitudes and enframed with blue mountain landscapes. He painted so many of these compositions that Ruskin says--somewhat too sweepingly--that he painted "no profane subject of importance" (Modern Painters, vol. v. pt. ix. ch. iii. § 17). He was also a magnificent painter of female and fancy portraits--a branch of art in which he rivals even Titian. Palma's works are sometimes divided into three manners--the Bellinesque, the Giorgionesque, and the blonde. Among the most famous of his productions are the "Adoration of the Shepherds," in the Louvre; the "Jacob and Rachel," at Dresden; and the altar-piece in St. Sebastiano at Vicenza--"his finest and most perfect work," according to Morelli. His "St. Barbara," in S. Maria Formosa at Venice, is also celebrated. The so-called "Bella da Tiziano," at Rome, and the "Three Sisters," at Dresden, are among the best-known of his portraits.

This fine portrait was formerly supposed to represent Ariosto (1474-1533), who was acquainted with Titian and commemorates him as one "who honours Cadore not less than Sebastiano del Piombo and Raphael honour Venice and Urbino." But the portrait bears little resemblance to the poet as he is known to us by authenticated likenesses. The title "Portrait of a Poet" is based partly on the character of the face, partly on the bush of laurel in the background. The evidence for the ascription to Palma is by no means conclusive (see Notes and Queries, Dec. 28, 1889). Mr. W. Fred Dickes has suggested--ingeniously, if not convincingly--that the portrait is of the famous "Liberator of Italy," Prospero Colonna (1464-1523), painted in 1500, when he was living in temporary retirement as a lay brother in a Benedictine monastery. Prospero is described as "tall in person, ruddy in countenance; his eyes were black, his beard reddish, and the locks of his hair of a chestnut character." The laurel would be appropriate to a victorious captain, no less than to a poet. Mr. Dickes ascribes the portrait to Giorgione (see Magazine of Art, March and April 1893). This ascription is accepted by Mr. Herbert Cook. "The conception is characteristic of Giorgione--the pensive charm, the feeling of reserve, the touch of fanciful imagination in the decorative accessories, but, above all, the extreme refinement.... Where can the like be found in Palma, or even Titian? Titian is more virile in his conception, less lyrical, less fanciful; Palma, infinitely less subtle in characterisation" (Giorgione, p. 84).

637. DAPHNIS AND CHLOE.

Paris Bordone (Venetian: 1500-1570).

Paris Bordone, one of the most splendid colourists of the Venetian School, was born of a noble family of Treviso. "He was taken," says Vasari, "at the age of eight to certain of his mother's kindred in Venice, where, having studied grammar and become an excellent musician, he was sent to Titian." With him he remained for a few years, and afterwards "set himself to imitate the manner of Giorgione to the utmost of his power." "Though Venetian in his education, he took a path peculiar to himself, and it is only a very inexperienced eye that can mistake him for Giorgione or Titian. He is remarkable for a delicate rosy colour in his flesh, and for the purple, crimson, and shot tints of his draperies, which are usually in small and crumpled folds" (Kugler). His most famous work--the large picture in the Venetian Academy of "The Fisherman presenting the Ring of St. Mark to the Doge"--is a masterpiece of gorgeous colouring. "The moment you come before the picture you say, 'What a piece of colour!' To Paris the Duke, the Senate, and the miracle are all merely vehicles for flashes of scarlet and gold on marble and silk" (Ruskin's Guide to the Venetian Academy, p. 17). He painted sacred subjects, mythology, and portraits. In all alike he found occasion for the same brilliant display of flesh-tints and stuffs. Visitors to the Italian lakes will find a Holy Family by Bordone at Lovere, in the Accademia Tadini, which is another of his masterpieces. There are some fine portraits by him at Hampton Court, and No. 674 in our Gallery is a very characteristic example. Chloe in the picture before us belongs to the same type. "The ideal of beauty for women in Italy during the sixteenth century was--perhaps because so difficult of attainment!--extreme blondness. Palma seems to have had no other aim than to fill his canvases with expanses of fair flesh and yellow hair. Paris Bordone succeeded Palma as the fashionable beauty-painter, and continued the tradition" (Mary Logan: Guide to the Italian Pictures at Hampton Court, p. 28). The fame of Bordone led to his being invited to France by Francis II. in 1558-1559 to paint the ladies of the Court. He was knighted by the king. He also visited Augsburg to execute commissions for the merchant princes of that city. "He lives quietly in his own house," says Vasari, "working only at the request of princes, or others of his friends, avoiding all rivalry and those vain ambitions which do but disturb the repose of man."

Daphnis and Chloe, a shepherd and shepherdess, whose life and love were a favourite Greek story, are about to be crowned by Cupid with a wreath of myrtle.

638. THE VIRGIN AND CHILD, WITH SAINTS.

Francia (Ferrarese-Bolognese: 1450-1517).

For more important pictures by this master, see 179 and 180. The saint with the palm-branch here will be recognised in one of the angels in 180.

639. "NOLI ME TANGERE!"

Francesco Mantegna (Paduan: about 1470-1517).

Francesco was the pupil and assistant of his father Andrea, whose style is very obvious in this and the two companion pictures (1106, 1381). Francesco completed some work which Andrea had left unfinished.

(For the subject see 270.) The three little pictures by Francesco (639, 1106, 1381) are all noticeable for their dainty detail, often selected for symbolic meaning. Thus, notice here the vine with purple grapes supported on a dead tree which hangs over the figure of Christ--an emblem of life and death. The vine is the most ancient of all symbols of Christ and his Church, being founded on His own words: "I am the vine, ye are the branches." On the other side a bird is seen defending its nest against a snake which has crept up the tree; on the left is a beehive.

640. ADORATION OF THE MAGI.

Dosso Dossi (Ferrarese: 1479-1542).

Giovanni di Lutero, who adopted the name of Dosso Dossi, was the greatest colourist of the Ferrarese School. "His masterpiece is the great altar picture formerly in the Church of S. Andrea at Ferrara, but now in the public gallery of that city, and one of the principal art treasures of Italy. This sumptuous work, notwithstanding the irreparable injuries it had sustained from injudicious restorations and repaints, is still a perfect blaze of colour" (Kugler). The little picture before us gives an inadequate impression of the painter's powers. No. 1234 is more characteristic. For Dossi's real bent lay towards portraiture and romantic subjects. Portraits by him of the Dukes of Ferrara and of other personages are in the public gallery at Modena. Of his subject-pictures the "Circe" of the Borghese Gallery at Rome is the most sumptuous. The records of Dossi's career are scanty; but his works "point strongly to two widely different currents of influence, the one Venetian, the other Ferrarese." He is supposed to have been for some years at Venice, but to have studied first under the Ferrarese Lorenzo Costa at Bologna. "His education in art, the main characteristics of his style, and his long residence at Ferrara, where he was attached to the court, and where he chiefly worked, entitle him to a place in the Ferrarese School.... His colouring is much admired, and justly, for its force, brilliancy, and novel harmonies: but it would be a mistake to class it with that of the great Venetian masters who had a profounder knowledge and a purer ideal of colour" (Burton). Dossi's romantic genius was no doubt fostered by his friendship with Ariosto, who celebrated Dosso and his brother Battista in somewhat exaggerated terms, naming them in the same breath with Leonardo, Mantegna, Bellini, Michael Angelo, Raphael, and Titian. "The name of Dosso," says Vasari ill-naturedly, "had then obtained greater fame from the pen of Messer Ludovico than from all the pencils and colours consumed by himself in the whole course of his life." Dosso was highly favoured, he adds, by Duke Alphonso, of Ferrara, "first because of his abilities in art, and next on account of his excellent qualities as a man and the pleasantness of his manners, which were advantages always highly acceptable to the Duke" (iii. 256). There are many pictures by Dosso in private collections in England. The exhibition of the Ferrarese School at the Burlington Fine Arts Club in 1894 included thirteen of them. He is well represented at Hampton Court. "His works," says Mary Logan in an interesting appreciation of the painter, "are distinguished from all Venetian paintings by effects of light in dreamland rather than in the everyday world (and have in them) ... a fascinating touch of the bizarre" (Kyrle Society's Guide to the Italian Pictures at Hampton Court). Many pictures passing under other names have been restored to Dosso by Morelli (see his Borghese and Doria-Pamfili Galleries, pp. 214-219).

641. THE WOMAN TAKEN IN ADULTERY.

Ludovico Mazzolino (Ferrarese: 1480-1528). See 169.

A picture chiefly remarkable, like 169, for its accessories. Notice the ornamental sculpture, the paintings in imitation of bronze relievo, and the modelled plaster work on the walls.

642. CHRIST'S AGONY IN THE GARDEN.

Garofalo (Ferrarese: 1481-1559). See 81.

It is interesting to compare this with other versions of the subject in the Gallery--e.g. 76, 726, 1417. What we may call the necessary component parts of the picture are all present--the angel with cup and cross, the sleeping apostles, a crowd with torches approaching. But Garofalo's picture seems cold and unimaginative as compared with Correggio's, Bellini's, or Mantegna's.

643. THE CAPTURE OF CARTHAGENA.

Ascribed to Rinaldo Mantovano (Roman: early 16th century).

This and the companion picture, 644, formerly ascribed to Giulio Romano, are now ascribed to Rinaldo of Mantua, one of the scholars whom Giulio formed when at work in that city. Rinaldo is mentioned by Vasari as the ablest painter that Mantua ever produced, and as having been "prematurely removed from the world by death."

In the upper compartment is represented the capture of New Carthage by the Roman general, Publius Cornelius Scipio, B.C. 210. He distinguished himself on that occasion by the generosity with which he treated the Spanish hostages kept there by the Carthaginians. This is the subject of the lower compartment. Among the hostages was a girl--hardly represented here as in the story, "so beautiful that all eyes turned upon her"--whom Scipio protected from indignity and formally betrothed to her own lover, who is here advancing to touch the great man's hand, and when they brought thank-offerings to Scipio, he ordered them, as we see here, to be removed again: "accept them from me," he said, "as the girl's dowry" (Livy, xxvi. ch. 50).

644. THE RAPE OF THE SABINES.

Ascribed to Rinaldo Mantovano (Roman: early 16th century).

Romulus, the founder of Rome--so the story goes--had collected a motley crew of men about him, and demanded women from the neighbouring states wherewith to people his kingdom. And when they refused, he determined to take them by stratagem. He appointed a day for a splendid sacrifice, with public games and shows, and the neighbouring Sabines flocked with their wives and daughters to see the sight. He himself presided, sitting among his nobles, clothed in purple. As a signal for the assault, he was to rise, gather up his robe, and fold it about him. Many of the people wore swords that day, and kept their eyes upon him, watching for the signal, which was no sooner given than they drew them, and, rushing on with a shout, seized the daughters of the Sabines, but quietly suffered the men to escape. This is the subject of the upper compartment of this picture. But afterwards the Sabines fought the Romans in order to recover their daughters. The battle was long and fierce, until the Sabine women threw themselves between the combatants and induced them to ratify the accomplished union with terms of friendship and alliance. This is the subject of the lower compartment--the intervention of the Sabine women in the right-hand part, the reconciliation in the left.

645. VIRGIN AND CHILD.

Albertinelli (Florentine: 1474-1515).

Mariotto Albertinelli, a pupil of Cosimo Rosselli, was the friend and assistant of the painter-monk, Fra Bartolommeo (see 1694). He himself, being of an impatient character, "was so offended with certain criticisms of his work," says Vasari, "that he gave up painting and turned publican."

This picture is often now attributed to a later painter--Sogliani, 1492-1544.

646. ST. CATHARINE.

Unknown (Umbrian School: 15th century).

This, and the companion picture (647), formerly deposited in the South Kensington Museum, were at the time of their purchase (in 1860) from the Beauconsin Collection "ascribed to Ridolfo Ghirlandajo."

647. ST. URSULA.

Unknown (Umbrian School: 15th century).

The emblem of her martyrdom, an arrow, is in her right hand.

648. VIRGIN AND CHILD.

Lorenzo di Credi (Florentine: 1459-1537). See 593.

A pretty landscape background, with a ruin, and the angel appearing to the shepherds in the distance--the whole charmingly harmonious in its blue-grays. "A pure and simple-minded man, Lorenzo delighted in pure, bright, and simple landscapes, in which one reads something of the gentle Angelico's feeling. Nature with Credi, as with the saint of Fiesole, must show no stain, no trouble, no severity, no sign of the transient. Far be it from him to introduce the jagged ranges that Leonardo reared upon his far, mysterious horizons. No, he must have all that is green and blue, and cheerful" (Gilbert's Landscape in Art, p. 225). With regard to the landscape backgrounds of the Italian painters, Mr. Mackail, in a letter to F. T. Palgrave (Journals and Memories, p. 256), raises the question "whether landscape painting has not lost as well as gained by being elevated from the background into the substance of a picture; whether, that is, the moral or human interest that is essential to all great art can exist in pure landscape painting without putting a greater strain on it than it will bear. Take, for instance, the landscape backgrounds of Lorenzo di Credi's pictures in the National Gallery, or of the great Perugino triptych. Have they not a moral or spiritual quality, as they stand in their place in the picture, that they can only have through this elusive (if one may say so) treatment?"

649. PORTRAIT OF A BOY.

Angelo Bronzino (Florentine: 1502-1572).

Angelo di Cosimo, called Il Bronzino, was born in a suburb of Florence, of poor parents; he became a popular artist, "nor have we any one in our day," says Vasari, "who is more ingenious, varied, fanciful, and spirited in the jesting kind of verse." He was also good at a more serious kind of verse; amongst other things he wrote sonnets on Benvenuto Cellini's "Perseus," of which Cellini says, "they spoke so generously of my performance, in that fine style of his which is most exquisite, that this alone repaid me somewhat for the pain of my long troubles." Vasari was a great friend of his, and speaks in the warmest terms of his generosity and kindness. He was the favourite pupil of Pontormo, some of whose works, left unfinished, he completed. His portraits, if sometimes hard and cold, are often excellent, and form a gallery of great interest to the historian of Florence. In his frescoes and allegories, he belongs to the period of decline. His "Descent of Christ into Hell," in the Uffizi, is among the most celebrated of his works. "Want of thought and feeling, combined with the presumptuous treatment of colossal and imaginative subjects, renders his compositions inexpressibly chilling" (Symonds, iii. 365). Ruskin cites him as an instance of the "base grotesque of men who, having no true imagination, are apt, more than others, to try by startling realism to enforce the monstrosity that has no terror in itself" (Modern Painters, vol. iii. pt. iv. ch. viii. § 8).

This charming portrait was formerly attributed to Pontormo. Sir Edward Poynter, following Frizzoni, has transferred it to Bronzino. (See _Arte Italiana del Rinascimento_, p. 267.)

650. PORTRAIT OF A LADY.

Angelo Bronzino (Florentine: 1502-1572). See 649. See also (p. xix)

"In the rich costume of the sixteenth century," says the Official Catalogue,--and the picture therein resembles most portraits of the time. For it is a remarkable thing how much great art depends on gay and dainty gowns. Note first, in going round these rooms, how fondly all the best painters enjoy dress patterns. "It doesn't matter what school they belong to--Fra Angelico, Perugino, John Bellini, Giorgione, Titian, Tintoret, Veronese, Leonardo da Vinci--no matter how they differ in other respects, all of them like dress patterns; and what is more, the nobler the painter is, the surer he is to do his patterns well." Then note, as following from this fact, how much of the splendour of the pictures that we most admire depends on splendour of dress. "True nobleness of dress is a necessity to any nation which wishes to possess living art, concerned with portraiture of human nature. No good historical painting ever yet existed, or ever can exist, where the dresses of the people of the time are not beautiful; and had it not been for the lovely and fantastic dressing of the thirteenth to the sixteenth centuries, neither French nor Florentine nor Venetian art could have risen to anything like the rank it reached" (see, e.g., under 294). And with regard to this nobleness of dress, it may be observed lastly how "the best dressing was never the costliest; and its effect depended much more on its beautiful and, in early times, modest arrangement, and on the simple and lovely manner of its colour, than on gorgeousness of clasp or embroidery" (Cambridge Inaugural Address, p. 11; A joy for ever, § 54).

651. AN ALLEGORY: "ALL IS VANITY."

Angelo Bronzino (Florentine: 1502-1572). See 649.

Venus, crowned as Queen of Life, yet with the apple of discord in her hand, turns her head to kiss Cupid, whose wings are coloured in Delight, but behind whom is the gaunt figure of Jealousy, tearing her hair. Folly, with one foot in manacles, and the other treading on a thorn, is preparing to throw a handful of roses--

Sweet is Love and sweet is the Rose, Each has a flower and each has a thorn.

A Harpy, the personification of vain desire and fitful passion, with a human face, but with claws to her feet and with a serpent's body, is offering in one hand a piece of honey-comb, whilst she holds her sting behind her in the other. In one corner, beneath the God of Love, doves are billing and cooing; but over against them, beneath Folly, there are masks showing the hideous emptiness of human passion. And behind them all is Time, with wings to speed his course and the hour-glass on his shoulders to mark his seasons, preparing to let down the veil which Pleasure, with grapes twined in her hair, and with the scowl of angry disappointment on her face, seeks in vain to lift--

"Redeem mine hours--the space is brief-- While in my glass the sand-grains shiver, And measureless thy joy or grief, When Time and thou shalt part for ever!"

SCOTT: The Antiquary.

This picture--in some ways harsh and vulgar--was originally painted for Francis I. of France. For a note on its crude colouring, see 270.

652. CHARITY.

Francesco Salviati (Florentine: 1510-1563).

Francesco Rossi, called "de' Salviati" from his patron, the Cardinal of that name, studied under Andrea del Sarto, and was an imitator of Michael Angelo. He was a great friend of Vasari, whose life of Salviati gives a most interesting account of their intimacy, especially of their early student days, when they "met together and went on festival days or at other times to copy a design from the best works wherever these were to be found dispersed about the city of Florence." In 1548 Salviati settled in Rome, where he was much employed.

The usual pictorial representation of Charity, as a woman surrounded by children and giving suck, is the same as Spenser's description of "Charissa"--

She was a woman in her freshest age, Of wondrous beauty, and of bounty rare.... Her necke and brests were ever open bare, That aye thereof her babes might sucke their fill.... A multitude of babes about her hong, Playing their sportes, that joy'd her to behold; Whom still she fed whiles they were weake and young, But thrust them forth still as they wexed old.

The Faërie Queene, i. 10. xxx. xxxi.

653. HUSBAND AND WIFE.

Unknown (Early Flemish: 15th century).

This picture, formerly ascribed to Roger van der Weyden, and called "The Painter and his Wife," is delightfully typical of the Flemish ideal both in man and woman--"the man shrewd and determined, the woman sweet and motherly." "They are not fine of figure nor graceful of limb, but, with hardly an exception, their faces tell us that they are men of tried capacity and learnt experience. Through the eyes of many of them glances a happy, childlike soul enough, but the mind is almost invariably a slow-moving, solid power ... and such as they, were the artists who painted them; they possessed the same industry, they admired the same qualities. The virtue of honest strength, which made the men of Flanders the merchant princes of Europe, was the virtue whose traces the artists of Flanders loved to observe.... They care little for mystery, little for pity, little for enthusiasm.... They love a man whose visage tells the strength of his character, who has weathered the buffetings of many a storm, and bears on his visage the marks of the struggle" (Conway's Early Flemish Artists, p. 104).

654. THE MAGDALEN.

Later School of Roger van der Weyden (Early Flemish: 1400-about 1464). See 664. See also (p. xix)

Known for the Magdalen by the small vase at her feet--emblem, in all the religious painters, of the alabaster box of ointment--"the symbol at once of her conversion and her love." In these "reading Magdalens" she is represented as now reconciled to heaven, and magnificently attired--in reference to her former state of worldly prosperity. "It is difficult for us, in these days, to conceive the passionate admiration and devotion with which the Magdalen was regarded by her votaries in the Middle Ages. The imputed sinfulness of her life only brought her nearer to them. Those who did not dare to lift up their eyes to the more saintly models of purity and holiness,--the martyrs who had suffered in the cause of chastity,--took courage to invoke her intercession" (Mrs. Jameson: Sacred and Legendary Art, p. 205). Hence the numerous Magdalens to be met with in nearly every picture gallery; in art decidedly there has been "more joy over one sinner that repenteth than over ninety-and-nine that need no repentance."

"This picture is undoubtedly by the unknown master who painted two remarkable panels formerly in the Abbey of Flémalle in Belgium, but now in the Städel Museum at Frankfort-on-Maine. They present respectively the standing figure of the Virgin with the Infant at her breast, and the figure of St. Veronica, as an elderly woman, holding before her the sacred napkin on which is the impression of our Lord's visage. These, and a third panel in the same museum, representing the Trinity, but, unlike the others, painted in monochrome, must have belonged to a large altar-piece in many compartments, of which it is quite possible the small picture above described may have formed one" (Official Catalogue). Mr. Claude Phillips, on the other hand, while admiring the delicate and exquisite colour of our picture and the enamel-like quality of its surface, sees in it no resemblance to the works described above (see Academy, Sept. 28, 1889).

655. THE READING MAGDALEN.

Bernard van Orley (Flemish: about 1490-1542). See also (p. xix)

This painter, who studied in Raphael's school, was a designer for tapestry (the staple industry of Brussels in his time) and stained glass, as well as what is now exclusively called an artist, and had all a designer's care for little things. He superintended the manufacture of the tapestries of the Vatican made from Raphael's cartoons, and there are some tapestries by him in the great hall at Hampton Court.

Notice the prettily designed cup in ivory and gold--symbolical of the box of precious ointment offered by the Magdalen to her Lord. For the subject see under last picture.

656: A MAN'S PORTRAIT.

Mabuse (Flemish: about 1470-1541).

Jan Gossart, called Mabuse from the town in Hainault (now in France) where he was born, is interesting in the history of art as the man who began the emigration of Flemish painters to Italy. He set out in 1508 in the suite of Philip of Burgundy, and remained about ten years in Italy where he copied the works of Leonardo and Michael Angelo. He was one of the illuminators of the famous Grimani Breviary in the Library at Venice. The finest example of the first, or Flemish period of Mabuse is the "Adoration of the Magi" at Castle Howard. To his second period, in which Italian influence is discernible, belongs the altar-piece in the Cathedral of Prague. There is a good portrait group by him at Hampton Court representing the children of King Christian II. of Denmark. A very fine work, attributed to Mabuse, has recently been added to the Gallery, No. 1689.

The sitter here is of the Flemish national type, but the Italian influence may be seen in the Renaissance architecture of the background.

657. A DUTCH GENTLEMAN AND LADY.

Jacob Cornelissen (Dutch: about 1475-1555).

This painter was the master of Jan Schorel (720), and is mentioned by Van Mander as a great artist. Most of his altar-pieces for the churches of Holland perished during the Reformation. He was also an engraver, and his woodcuts were as much admired as the copperplates of his contemporary, Lucas van Leyden. He had a son, Dirk, who was also a good painter, especially of portraits.

Presumably a husband and wife--the donors, we may suppose, of an altar-piece. Their patron saints attend them. St. Peter lays his hand approvingly on the man's shoulder. The woman, as "the weaker vessel," seems to be supported by St. Paul. It should be noticed that in sacred and legendary art these two saints are almost always introduced together--St. Peter, with the keys, representing the church of the converted Jews, St. Paul that of the Gentiles: his common attributes are a book (denoting his Epistles), and a sword, signifying the manner of his martyrdom, and being emblematic also of "the good fight" fought by the faithful Christian with "the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God."

658. THE DEATH OF THE VIRGIN.

After Schongauer. (German-Swabian: 1450-about 1488). See also (p. xix)

A picture, painted perhaps by Hugo van der Goes, on the lines of a print by Martin Schongauer, who was known to his contemporaries as "the glory of painters" and "Martin the Beautiful." He was born at Colmar, but probably studied under Roger van der Weyden. By some the picture is ascribed to the anonymous "Master of Flémalle," a contemporary of Roger van der Weyden: for whom see a little picture in Room XVI., now (1908) lent to the Gallery by Mr. Salting.

The "absolute joy in ugliness," which Ruskin finds most strongly exemplified in some of Schongauer's prints (Modern Painters, vol. iv. pt. v. ch. xix. § 18), is not altogether absent from this picture. A more unpleasant bedchamber, with its unseemly crowd of fat bustling apostles (notice the old fellow puffing away at a censer on the left), it would be hard to conceive. One is glad to escape through the open window to the pretty little view of the square.

659. PAN AND SYRINX.

Johann Rottenhammer (German: 1564-1623). See also (p. xix)

This painter was born at Munich. Early in life he went to Rome, where he obtained some reputation. He next went to Venice, where he executed some pictures in imitation of Tintoretto, who was then still living. On his return to his native country he settled at Augsburg, and was much patronised by the Emperor Rudolph II.

The nymph Syrinx, beloved by Pan and flying from his pursuit, takes refuge among some bulrushes. The god, thinking to grasp her, finds only reeds in his hand--

And while he sighs his ill-success to find, The tender canes were shaken by the wind, And breathed a mournful air, unheard before, That, much surprising Pan, yet pleased him more.

DRYDEN, from Ovid's Metamorphoses.

He formed the reeds into a pipe, hence the name of Syrinx given to the "Pan's pipe," see 94. The background of this picture (which is executed on copper) is said to be by Jan Brueghel (for whom see 1287).

660. A MAN'S PORTRAIT.

Ascribed to François Clouet (French: about 1510-1572).

François Clouet, like his father Jeannet before him, was court painter to the King of France. Jeannet was, however, probably a Netherlander; and François remained faithful to the old northern style of painting. This and the other portrait ascribed to him might well be taken for works of the Flemish school.

In the costume of the 16th century: dated 1543.

661. THE MADONNA DI SAN SISTO.

After Raphael. (See under 1171.)

A tracing from the original picture by Raphael at Dresden, by Jakob Schlesinger (1793-1855)--a Professor of Painting at Berlin.

663. THE RESURRECTION.

Fra Angelico (Florentine: 1387-1455).

Artists may be divided according to the subjects of their choice into Purists, Naturalists, and Sensualists. The first take the good in the world or in human nature around them and leave the evil; the second render all that they see, sympathising with all the good, and yet confessing the evil also; the third perceive and imitate evil only (Stones of Venice, vol. ii. ch. vi. § 51). Of the first class Fra Giovanni da Fiesole is the leading type. His life was largely spent in the endeavour to imagine the beings of another world.[158] His baptismal name was Guido, but he changed it early in life to Giovanni, when he entered a Dominican convent in Florence. He was once offered the archbishopric of his city, but he refused it: "He who practises the art of painting," he said, "has need of quiet, and should live without cares and anxieties; he who would do the work of Christ must dwell continually with Him." He was given the name of "Angelico," and after his death the style and distinction of "Beato" (the Blessed), for his purity and heavenly-mindedness, and it is said of him that "he was never known to be angry, or to reprove, save in gentleness and love. Nor did he ever take pencil in hand without prayer, and he could not paint the Passion of Christ without tears of sorrow." By this "purity of life, habitual elevation of thought, and natural sweetness of disposition, he was enabled to express the sacred affections upon the human countenance as no one ever did before or since. In order to effect clearer distinction between heavenly beings and those of this world, he represents the former as clothed in draperies of the purest colour, crowned with glories of burnished gold, and entirely shadowless. With exquisite choice of gesture, and disposition of folds of drapery, this mode of treatment gives, perhaps, the best idea of spiritual beings which the human mind is capable of forming. It is, therefore, a true ideal; but the mode in which it is arrived at (being so far mechanical and contradictory of the appearances of nature) necessarily precludes those who practise it from being complete masters of their art. It is always childish, but beautiful in its childishness" (Modern Painters, vol. iii. pt. iv. ch. vi. § 4). Angelico, it may be added, looking on his work as an inspiration from God, never altered or improved his designs when once completed, saying that "such was the will of God." Angelico's work, says Ruskin in a later passage, in which he discusses the weakness of the monastic ideal, will always retain its power, "as the gentle words of a child will." Yet "the peculiar phenomenon in his art is, to me, not its loveliness, but its weakness.... Of all men deserving to be called great, Fra Angelico permits to himself the least pardonable faults and the most palpable follies. There is evidently within him a sense of grace and power of invention as great as Ghiberti's; ... [but] comparing him with contemporary great artists of equal grace and invention, one peculiar character remains noticeable in him--which, logically, we ought therefore to attribute to the religious fervour;--and that distinctive character is, the contented indulgence of his own weaknesses, and perseverance in his own ignorances." Passing to consider the sources of the peculiar charm which we nevertheless feel in Angelico's work, Ruskin mentions "for one minor thing, an exquisite variety and brightness of ornamental work"; while "much of the impression of sanctity" is "dependent on a singular repose and grace of gesture, consummating itself in the floating, flying, and, above all, in the dancing groups" (Ethics of the Dust, pp. 150-152). Fra Angelico is said to have begun his artistic career as an illuminator of manuscripts--a tradition which is entirely in accordance with the style of his later works. In 1409 he left Fiesole for Foligno and Cortona. In the churches of the latter place fine altar-pieces by him are still preserved. From 1418 to 1436 he was again at Fiesole. In the latter year he was invited to Florence to decorate the new Convent of St. Mark. His frescoes here occupied him nine years. "This convent, now converted into a national monument, is a very museum of Fra Angelico--cloisters, refectory, chapter-house, guest-room, corridor, stairs, and not less than nineteen or twenty cells, bear witness to a skill and leisure alike obsolete." Copies of several of the frescoes may be seen in the Arundel Society's collection. In 1445 Fra Angelico was called to Rome, where he painted the chapel of Nicolas V. in the Vatican (also copied and engraved for the Arundel Society). At Orvieto in 1447 he commenced some paintings in the chapel of the Madonna di San Brixio, which were afterwards completed by Signorelli. The last years of the painter's life were spent at Rome. He was buried in the Church of the Minerva, where his recumbent effigy (an emaciated figure in the Dominican habit) may still be seen. "Some works are for Earth," says a line in his Latin epitaph, "others for Heaven."

The weakness and the strength of the painter are alike well seen in this picture of Christ, with the banner of the resurrection surrounded by the Blessed. The representation of Christ Himself is weak and devoid of dignity; but what can be more beautiful than the surrounding angel choirs, "with the flames on their white foreheads waving brighter as they move, and the sparkles streaming from their purple wings like the glitter of many suns upon a sounding sea, listening in the pauses of alternate song for the prolonging of the trumpet blast, and the answering of psaltery and cymbal, throughout the endless deep, and from all the star shores of heaven" (Modern Painters, vol. ii. pt. iii. sec. ii. ch. v. § 21).[159] No two of the 266 figures are alike in face or form, though each is perfect in grace and beauty.[160] In the central compartment the seraphim (red) are on Christ's right, the cherubim (blue) on His left. In the compartment to Christ's left are, amongst other patriarchs and saints, Abraham with the sword, Noah with the ark, Moses with the tables of law, Aaron with his name on his mitre, and below them St. Agnes with the Lamb, and St. Catherine with her wheel. The martyrs bear palms in their hands; some wear wreaths of roses, others the crown of thorns. In the compartment to Christ's left are the Virgin, St. Peter with the keys, and the Evangelists. On the extreme ends on either side are those of the painter's brother Dominicans, in their black robes, who have joined the company of the "Blessed."

Multitudes--multitudes--stood up in bliss, Made equal to the angels, glorious, fair; With harps, palms, wedding-garments, kiss of peace, And crowned and haloed hair.

Each face looked one way like a moon new-lit, Each face looked one way toward its Sun of Love; Drank love, and bathed in love, and mirrored it, And knew no end thereof.

Glory touched glory, on each blessèd head, Hands locked dear hands never to sunder more: These were the new-begotten from the dead Whom the great birthday bore.

CHRISTINA ROSSETTI: From House to Home.

This picture was formerly the predella of an altar-piece in San Domenico at Fiesole. It was sold by the monks in 1826 to the Prussian Consul in Rome, from whose nephew it was purchased for our Gallery. "The price paid was £3500. The additional and incidental expenses, in consequence of the demands of the Roman Government before allowing the exportation, were unusually great. Those demands, ostensibly founded on the excellence and celebrity of the picture, were admitted to be partly also suggested by the state of the Papal finances." The British Consul finally paid £700 for the permission of exportation (Director's Report, 1861). The altar-piece to which our picture belonged remains sadly damaged in situ.

664. THE DEPOSITION IN THE TOMB.

Roger van der Weyden[161] (Early Flemish: 1400-1464). See also (p. xix)

This painter was born at Tournai, where he was known as Rogelet de la Pasture. He afterwards went to Brussels, where he assumed his Flemish name, and where in 1436 he was appointed town painter. For the Hall of Justice there he painted four pictures, which are now lost, but of which the designs are preserved in a set of tapestries in Berne Cathedral. He was the chief master (as a teacher, that is) of the early Flemish school. It was he who carried Flemish art into Italy (see 772), where he was in 1449-1450. "Contemporary Italian writers laud the pathos, the brilliant colouring, and the exhaustive finish of his works." He on his side gained something from the study of Italian masters. The composition of many of his great works--e.g. "The Last Judgment" at Beaune, the "Nativity" at Berlin, and "The Adoration of the Magi" at Munich--bears evidence of Italian influence. Nearer home, the school of the Lower Rhine in its later time was an offshoot of his school: and farther up the river, Martin Schongauer, at Colmar, was an immediate pupil of his. He set the fashions in several subjects--such as descents from the cross, and hundreds of followers imitated his designs. What gave his art this wide currency was the way in which it united the older religious feeling, from which Van Eyck had cut himself adrift, with the new naturalism and improved technique which Van Eyck had introduced. His French blood, too, gave his art an element of vivid emotion, which was lacking in the staid control of Van Eyck. He is especially praised for his "representations of human desires and dispositions, whether grief, pain, or joy." He thus painted for the religious needs of the people at large; and though an inferior artist, enjoyed a far wider influence than Van Eyck. "Less intensely realistic than Van Eyck, less gifted with the desire and the power to reproduce the phenomena of nature for their own sake, and in their completeness, he thought more," says Sir F. Burton, "of expressing the feelings common to him and the pious worshippers for whose edification he wrought. His figures exhibit deep, if sometimes rather overstrained, pathos. He strove with naïf earnestness to bring home to the senses the reality of the incidents connected with the last sufferings and death of the Saviour. Still he was naturalistic too, in the sense in which that term applies to all painters of the early Flemish school, in that he imitated with minuteness every object which he thought necessary to his compositions; but of the broad principles of chiaroscuro and subordination which Van Eyck had so wonderfully grasped, he had small perception. His scenes seem filled with the light of early morning. His colour, pale in the flesh-tints with greyish modelling, is varied and delicately rich in the clothing and other stuffs introduced. His landscape abounds in freshness and greenth. Thus he transferred to his oil pictures the light and brilliance of missal painting, an art which perhaps he had himself practised." "He occasionally practised a very different technical method from that usually employed in Flanders--that is to say, he painted in pure tempera colours on unprimed linen, the flesh tints especially being laid on extremely thin, so that the texture of the linen remains unhidden. Other colours, such as a smalto blue used for draperies, are applied in greater body, and the whole is left uncovered by any varnish" (Middleton). Of this method the present picture is a fine example.

This picture--"one of the most exquisite in feeling of the early Flemish school" (Poynter)--is full of sincere emotion. "Roger van der Weyden is especially known by his touching conception of some of the scenes of the Passion. He excelled in the lull of suppressed feeling. The picture of the Entombment by him in the National Gallery is as much more sad to the heart than the passionate Italian conception, as a deep sigh sometimes than a flood of tears. We could almost wish those mourners, with their compressed lips, red eyelids, and slowly trickling tears, would weep more--it would grieve us less. But evidently the violence of the first paroxysm of grief is over, and this is the exhaustion after it. The tide is ebbing as with all new sorrow, too soon to flow again. No finer conception of manly sorrow, sternly repressed, exists than in the heads of Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, who devote themselves the more strenuously to their task in order to conceal their grief. Strange that a painter of such exquisite refinement of feeling should adhere to so hideous a type of Christ as that which appears here" (Mrs. Jameson's History of our Lord, ii. 246). It is interesting to contrast the figure of Christ with that in Francia's picture (180). In painting such subjects the Italians of the best time endured the physical painfulness, the Northern temperament rejoiced in it. The painters in so doing were only meeting the wishes of their patrons. There is a contract, for instance, still in existence in which it is expressly stipulated that the form of our Lord in a picture ordered at Bruges shall be painted "in all respects like a dead man."

665. THE BAPTISM OF CHRIST.

Piero della Francesca (Umbrian: about 1416-1492).

This great Umbrian master was a native of Borgo San Sepolcro in Umbria, but studied in Florence, where it is probable that he was a pupil of Paolo Uccello (see 583). A combination of the characteristics of the two schools is to be seen in the work of Piero, who had at the same time a marked individuality of his own. "He has the imaginative impulse, the Umbrian sense of an inner, an almost mystic beauty, of a certain aloofness from earth and uplifting of the soaring spirit; and yet on the other side of his character he is strongly scientific; he studies perspective, the projection of shadows, the scheme of values; he fills his work with light and atmosphere, and improves on the oil methods of the earlier Florentines" (Brinton's Renaissance in Italian Art, iii. 85). "By dignity of portraiture, by loftiness of style, and by a certain poetical solemnity of imagination he raised himself above the level of the mass of his contemporaries. Those who have once seen his fresco of the 'Resurrection' at Borgo San Sepolcro [in the Pinacoteca] will never forget the deep impression of solitude and aloofness from all earthly things produced by it" (Symonds, iii. 170). A copy of this fresco may be seen in the Arundel Society's collection. The picture now before us also well illustrates the skill in dealing with technical difficulties and the solemn grandeur of conception which characterise the painter. Piero della Francesca was so called after his mother,[162] "Francesca's Peter," for, says Vasari, "he had been brought up solely by herself, who furthermore assisted him in the attainment of that learning to which his good fortune had destined him." He received at first a scientific education, and possessed, adds Vasari, "a considerable knowledge of Euclid, inasmuch that he understood all the most important properties of rectilinear bodies better than any other geometrician." In a treatise on perspective, written in the vulgar tongue, he reduced the science to "rules which have hardly admitted of subsequent improvement." These studies influenced Piero's tendencies in art. "The laws of aerial perspective, of the harmony of colours, the proportions of light and shade, and the position of objects in space were equally developed by one whose feeling for precise calculation went pari passu with that of pictorial representation. In this combination of science and art he was strictly the precursor of Leonardo da Vinci. Fra Luca Paccioli, a celebrated mathematician, and an intimate friend of Piero, was in later years in constant communication with Leonardo" (Layard, i. 215). Piero probably acquired the new method of oil painting from Domenico Veneziano (see 766), whom he assisted in some wall paintings in S. Maria Nuova in Florence in 1439, and with whom he afterwards worked at Loreto. Some of his best works are to be seen in his native city, and at Arezzo he painted a remarkable series of frescoes for the church of S. Francesco. Piero was also employed at Urbino, where he appears to have been the guest of Raphael's father, Giovanni Santi. He worked also in Rimini and Ferrara, and was called to Rome to paint two frescoes in the Vatican, which were afterwards destroyed to make room for the works of Raphael. His later, like his earlier years, were devoted to mathematical studies, and in his old age "the ban Of blindness struck both palette from his thumb And pencil from his finger." Among his pupils Vasari mentions Perugino and Signorelli.

A picture of great interest from a technical point of view, as showing an advancing skill, especially in perspective. The feet of Christ are finely "foreshortened"; the tops of the mountains are correctly reflected on the surface of the river in the foreground; in the middle distance there is a foreshortened view of a street leading to a fortified town, and the anatomy of the figure stripping himself for baptism is very carefully rendered. This very realistic figure of a convert strikes a curious note; Piero's paintings are "the working out of problems before our very eyes." In these technical respects Piero resembles Paolo Uccello, while there is also a striking affinity of style between the landscapes of the two painters. "The peculiar construction of these landscapes, with steep mountains of an uncommon type, is the more remarkable because they are the starting-point of all the later achievements in realistic landscape painting" (Richter's Italian Art in the National Gallery, p. 16). "The study of natural phenomena," says Mr. Monkhouse, "is everywhere apparent. The pomegranate trees are the earliest attempt in the National Gallery to give what may be called the portrait of a particular tree--the habit of its growth, the special character of its leafage. The hedge in Uccello's 'Battle of St. Egidio' is the nearest approach to it. He has striven to imagine the scene as it actually might have happened. Sundry worthies, in strange rich costumes, look on from a further bank. Nothing is 'newer' in the picture than the carefully studied reflections of their garments in the water. The effect, so beautifully rendered by Burne-Jones in his picture of 'Venus's Looking-Glass,' Piero was the first to paint, if not to observe" (In the National Gallery, p. 106).

The subject is the baptism in Jordan. Christ, under the shade of a pomegranate tree, is being "baptized of John in Jordan; and straightway coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens opened, and the Spirit like a dove descending upon him" (Mark i. 9, 10). The spiritual feeling of the scene is enhanced by the sweet presence of the attendant angels,--crowned with wreaths of flowers, instead of the nimbus. It is an old belief that angels watch over men's birth, and so too they are represented as presiding over the new birth, which is typified by the rite of baptism. "What solemnity in the bearing of Christ as He permits John to pour over Him the water of Jordan which is flowing in a shallow stream at his feet! How modest the deportment of the assistant angels at His side! How the trees, whose every leaf in the dense foliage is distinctly outlined, seem even to hush their whispers that nothing may disturb the nearness of God, who looking down from heaven as out of the far distance, makes his presence felt" (Grimm's Life of Raphael, p. 46). This picture, which seems never to have been finished and shows the under-painting, was formerly the principal altar-piece of the Priory of St. John the Baptist at Borgo San Sepolcro.

666. THE ANNUNCIATION.

Fra Filippo Lippi (Florentine: about 1406-1469).

I am poor brother Lippo, by your leave!... Yes, I'm the painter, since you style me so.... For me, I think I speak as I was taught; I always see the garden and God there A-making man's wife: and, my lesson learned, The value and significance of flesh, I can't unlearn ten minutes afterwards.... Why can't a painter lift each foot in turn, Left foot and right foot, go a double step, Make his flesh liker and his soul more like, Both in their order?

BROWNING: Fra Lippo Lippi.

This and the companion picture by the same artist (667) were painted for Cosmo de' Medici (this one is marked with Cosmo's crest--three feathers tied together in a ring), and are identified with a story told by Vasari, which Browning worked up in his poem on the artist. Cosmo, knowing the artist's ways, kept him under lock and key that his work might be the quicker done, but Lippi one night contrived a way of escape, and "from that time forward," adds Vasari, "Cosmo gave the artist more liberty, and was by this means more promptly and effectually served by the painter, and was wont to say that men of genius were not beasts of burden, but forms of light." Filippo was the son of a butcher, and, being left an orphan, was committed to the charge of the monks of the Carmelite convent close to which his parents had lived. At the age of fourteen or fifteen he was induced to take the vows of the order. At this time he must have seen Masaccio painting in the famous Branacci chapel of the conventual church, S. M. del Carmine. Lippi himself executed some works (now destroyed) in the church, and having by this time found his true vocation, he was in 1431 permitted to leave the convent in order to be free to practise his art. Vasari relates that during an excursion on the Adriatic, Lippi was taken captive by some Moorish pirates. But after a while he found opportunity to draw a whole-length portrait of his master with charcoal on a white wall, which the pirates deemed so marvellous that they set him at liberty. This tale, however, is inconsistent with the facts of Lippi's life as now known from documentary evidence. Lippi enjoyed the patronage of the Medici, and he received sinecure offices also from the Pope. During the years 1431-53 many of his best panel pictures were painted. Among these may be mentioned the "Coronation of the Virgin" (Academy, Florence), in which is introduced a portrait of himself with the tonsure, and bearing a scroll inscribed Is perfecit opus, and the "Virgin adoring the Infant, borne by two Angels" (Uffizi), which was selected by Ruskin for one of his four "Lesson Photographs," and is fully described by him in Fors, 1875, p. 307. At the end of the period in question Lippi undertook the principal work of his life, which occupied him for several years, the series of frescoes in the choir of the Duomo at Prato. "These magnificent paintings," says Morelli, "were executed at about the same time as those equally celebrated by Mantegna in the Cappella degli Eremitani at Padua. Whoever would learn to know the aspirations and artistic power of that period in the highest utterances, has only to study those two wall-paintings. If we are carried away by Fra Filippo's grandeur of conception and his pure dramatic vividness, we are enthralled, on the other hand, by Mantegna's greater fulness of expression and his perfect execution" (German Galleries, p. 71). While engaged on these frescoes, the friar-painter was appointed chaplain to the convent of Santa Margherita. Here he became enamoured of one of the nuns, Lucrezia Buti, and having persuaded the abbess to let Lucrezia sit to him for a study of the Madonna, he carried her off to his house. She remained with him for two years, and bore him a son, the renowned painter, Filippino Lippi (293). Her portrait is to be seen in the Virgin of the "Assumption," now in the Communal Gallery at Prato. She was induced to return to the convent, and took fresh vows, but again escaped to seek the friar's protection. The scandal now became serious, and Filippo was threatened with punishment. But Cosmo de' Medici intervened, and the Pope issued a bull releasing the erring pair from their vows and sanctioning their marriage. Lippi's last work was a series of frescoes in the choir of the Duomo at Spoleto. Here he died, from an illness ascribed by some to poison, leaving the work to be finished by his assistant, Fra Diamante. He was buried in the Duomo. Over his tomb Lorenzo de' Medici caused a monument to be erected, and Poliziano wrote Latin couplets to commemorate the fame of the friar-painter. "His art," says Ruskin, "is the finest, out and out, that ever monk did, which I attribute myself to what is usually considered faultful in him, his having run away with a pretty novice out of a convent.... The real gist of the matter is that Lippi did, openly and bravely, what the highest prelates in the Church did basely and in secret; also he loved, where they only lusted; and he has been proclaimed therefore by them--and too foolishly believed by us--to have been a shameful person"[163] (Fors Clavigera, 1872, xxii. 4; Ariadne Florentina, vi. § 5 n.). In other words, Lippi, while true to his religion, did not shut himself out from the world--to use the theological language, he "sanctified," not "crucified," the flesh. His pictures are "nobly religious work,--examples of the most perfect unison of religious myth with faithful realism of human nature yet produced in this world" (Fors Clavigera, 1876, p. 187). "The human element, with him so naïve and spontaneous, gives," says Burton, "a singular charm to his works. His colour is golden and broad, and his drapery finely cast and of fascinatingly broken tones." Among his pupils (besides his son) were Pesellino and Botticelli.

Here the traditional legend of the Annunciation is faithfully adhered to, and there is much "unusually mystic spiritualism of conception" in the dove, the Spirit of God, proceeding in rays of golden light from the hand of an unseen Presence; but the painter delights to elaborate also every element of human interest and worldly beauty. Note, for instance, the prettiness of the angel's face, the gracefulness of his figure, the sheen of his wings, and the dainty splendour of the Virgin's chamber.

667. ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST AND SAINTS.

Fra Filippo Lippi (Florentine: 1406-1469). See 666.

Lippi's general characteristics, noticed above under the companion picture (666), may again be seen here. The "other saints" are Sts. Francis (on the spectator's right, with the stigmata), Lawrence, and Cosmas; on the left Sts. Damianus, Anthony, and Peter Martyr--this last a particularly "human" saint. Lippi was a monk himself, and drew his saints in the human resemblance of good "brothers" that he knew. "I will tell you what Lippi must have taught any boy whom he loved. First, humility, and to live in joy and peace, injuring no man--if such innocence might be. Nothing is so manifest in every face by him as its gentleness and rest." It is characteristic of Lippi, too, that the saints should be represented sitting in so pretty a garden. Secondly,--"a little thing it seems, but was a great one,--love of flowers. No one draws such lilies or such daisies as Lippi. Botticelli beat him afterwards in roses, but never in lilies" (Ariadne Florentina, vi. § 9).

668. THE BEATO FERRETTI.

Carlo Crivelli (Venetian: painted 1468-1493). See 602.

Gabriele Ferretti (to whose family Pope Pius IX. belonged) was Superior of the Franciscans in the March of Ancona, and died in 1456. Thirty years later his body was found incorrupt, and was deposited in a sarcophagus in the church of S. Francesco ad Alto at Ancona. It is conjectured that the present picture was painted for that church in commemoration of the discovery of the body. The artist shows us the holy man in enjoyment of the vision of the beatified. "The Beato (in Franciscan habit) has been reading or praying, at the entrance of a cave near a church, in a quiet country spot from which a road leads to a town in the distance. Suddenly in the sky the Virgin and Child appear (surrounded by the Vesica glory, see No. 564). He has laid down his book, put off his sandals, and kneels in prayer and adoration.... The masterly treatment of the drapery, the perfection of the forms, the architecture, the sense of spaciousness in the landscape, all point to the maturity of Crivelli's art.... The landscape, for general effect, is one of his best, though the treatment of the rocks and of the foreground is still conventional. The most striking objects in it are the leafless tree-stems, the counterpart, as it were, of the hard and bony human figures of which he was so fond, and therefore an illustration of his love for anatomical forms. His seeking after realism again appears in the two ducks painted with minute precision. In contrast to them we get the festoon of fruit at the top of the picture, illustrating the conventional and decorative aspect of his art. No picture of his suggests more completely both the range and the limitations of Crivelli" (G. M. Rushforth: Carlo Crivelli, pp. 65, 87).

669. ST. SEBASTIAN, ST. ROCH AND ST. DEMETRIUS.

L'Ortolano (Ferrarese: died about 1525).

Giambattista Benvenuti, called L'Ortolano (the gardener) from his father's occupation, is still a problem in art history, details of his life being so uncertain that even the existence of him is disputed by some critics. There is, however, documentary evidence which proves his existence. This noble picture was, until 1844, the altar-piece of the parochial church of Bondeno, near Ferrara, where it was generally considered the painter's masterpiece. His life and works are generally confounded with those of Garofalo, to which painter Morelli ascribes the present work. "Garofalo's characteristics are apparent in the form of hand, the brown flesh-tints, the drapery, the landscape, and the small stones in the foreground" (Italian Painters: The Borghese and Doria-Pamfili Galleries in Rome, p. 208). On the other hand, Venturi has drawn up a list of works, showing common characteristics and common differences from Garofalo, which he therefore attributes to Ortolano. To this list should be added Lord Wimborne's "St. Joseph presenting the Infant Christ." Among the characteristics noticeable in our picture are houses planted on posts; long, straight streaks in the background turning to white; trees with large, sparse, yellowing leaves. "Garofalo never achieved the rapt expression of St. Demetrius" (see the argument of Venturi quoted in Burlington Fine Arts Club's Catalogue, 1894).

In the centre is St. Sebastian, tied to a tree, and pierced with arrows; whilst in the foreground is a cross-bow, lying uselessly. For the story is that Sebastian was a noble youth who was promoted to the command of a company in the Prætorian Guards by the Emperor Diocletian:

"At this time he was secretly a Christian, but his faith only rendered him more loyal to his masters; more faithful in all his engagements; more mild, more charitable; while his favour with his prince, and his popularity with the troops, enabled him to protect those who were persecuted for Christ's sake, and to convert many to the truth. Among his friends were two young men of noble family, soldiers like himself; their names were Marcus and Marcellinus." And when they were tortured for being Christians, Sebastian, "neglecting his own safety, rushed forward, and, by his exhortations, encouraged them rather to die than to renounce their Redeemer. Then Diocletian ordered that Sebastian also should be bound to a stake and shot to death with arrows. The archers left him for dead; but in the middle of the night, Irene, the widow of one of his martyred friends, came with her attendants to take his body away, that she might bury it honourably; and it was found that none of the arrows had pierced him in a vital part, and that he yet breathed. So they carried him to her house, and his wounds were dressed; and the pious widow tended him night and day, until he had wholly recovered" (Mrs. Jameson: Sacred and Legendary Art, 1850, pp. 343, 344).

This legend was one of the special favourites with the mediæval painters: "the display of beautiful form, permitted and even consecrated by devotion, is so rare in Christian representations, that we cannot wonder at the avidity with which this subject was seized" (ibid. p. 346). It is instructive to compare the noble use of the subject made in this picture, in which the great technical skill of the painter is subordinate to the beautiful display of a sacred legend, with the "St. Sebastian" of Pollajuolo (292), in which, as we have seen, the subject is used solely--and painfully--for the display of such skill. With St. Sebastian is here represented, on his left, his contemporary, St. Demetrius. He is clad in armour, for he also served under Diocletian, being Proconsul of Greece, and like St. Sebastian used his high office to preach Christ. On the other side is St. Roch (for whose legend see 735). He is a much later saint (about A.D. 1300), and is associated with St. Sebastian as another patron of the plague-stricken. Arrows have been from all antiquity the emblem of pestilence; and from the association of arrows with his legend, St. Sebastian succeeded in Christian times to the honours enjoyed by Apollo, in Greek mythology, as the protector against pestilence.

670. A KNIGHT OF ST. STEPHEN.

Angelo Bronzino (Florentine: 1502-1572). See 649. See also (p. xx)

He wears the robes of his order (with a red cross bordered with yellow), an order established by Cosimo, Duke of Tuscany, and charged with the defence of the coasts against pirates. The knight is a good specimen of the courtier aristocracy with which Cosimo surrounded himself. The knights of St. Stephen afterwards won much honour by their prowess, but they were men of culture also: notice that this one holds a book in his hand, which rests on a table richly carved in the taste of the time. This portrait was presented to the nation by Mr. Watts, R.A.

671. MADONNA AND CHILD ENTHRONED

Garofalo (Ferrarese: 1481-1559). See 81.

This fine picture was originally the principal altar-piece of the church of San Guglielmo (St. William) at Ferrara. Hence the introduction of that saint (on our left)--a beautiful face, into which the artist has put, one may think, all his local piety. The saint is in armour, for William--the institutor of the hermit order of Guglielmites--was originally a soldier, and was "given," says one of his biographers, "unto a licentious manner of living, too common among persons of that profession." It was to escape from such temptations that he became a holy penitent, and fought thenceforward in mountain solitudes, as a soldier of Christ against the flesh and the devil. Beside him stands St. Clara, "the very ideal of a gray sister, sedate and sweet, sober, steadfast, and demure." She gazes on a crucifix, for she too had renounced the pomps and vanities of the world. Her wealth of golden hair was cut off, it is said, by St. Francis; her fortune she gave to hospitals, and herself became the foundress of the Order of "Poor Clares." St. Francis stands on the other side of the throne, and besides him is "good St. Anthony" (see under 776).

672. HIS OWN PORTRAIT.

Rembrandt (Dutch: 1606-1669). See 45.

"This portrait, dated 1640, describes the man well--strong and robust, with powerful head, firm and compressed lips and determined chin, with heavy eyebrows, separated by a deep vertical furrow, and with eyes of keen penetrating glance,--altogether a self-reliant man, who would carry out his own ideas, careless whether his popularity waxed or waned" (J. F. White in Encyclopædia Britannica).

673. "SALVATOR MUNDI."

Antonello da Messina (Venetian: 1444-1493)

A picture of special interest as being the earliest known work (it is dated 1465) of Antonello, of Messina in Sicily, who is famous as the man by whom the art of painting in oils, as perfected by the Van Eycks (see 186), was introduced into Venice. Vasari's story is that Antonello saw, on a visit to Naples, a picture by John Van Eyck, in which the brilliancy and fine fusion of the tints so struck him that he forthwith set out for Flanders, ingratiated himself with Van Eyck, and learnt from him the secret of his method. But the dates do not agree with this story. For Van Eyck died in 1440, and Antonello must therefore have been born early in the century, whereas, on the contrary, Vasari expressly states that he died in 1493, aged forty-nine. More probably Antonello learnt the Flemish technique from the painters of that school who are known to have been at Naples in the middle of the fifteenth century. In his native town, in the church of S. Gregorio, is a triptych by him, dated 1473. In the same year he was at Venice, where he remained until his death. "His practical mastery of the new method, still unknown in the city of the Lagoons, of glazing in oil colours a ground laid in tempera, must have given Antonello a higher status at Venice than his intrinsic merits as an artist would have warranted. We see that he is at once honoured with a commission from the wardens of S. Cassiano. Unhappily the altar-piece there, so highly praised by Matteo Collaccio and Sabellico, and signed with the year 1473, has long since disappeared. And not only did the church dignitaries of Venice patronise him, but the patricians were eager to have their likenesses taken on the new principle practised by Antonello; and, to judge by the number of portraits he turned out in those years, he must for a time have been the most popular portrait painter in Venice" (Morelli). Of his portraits there is a good example in our Gallery (1141). The splendid portrait in the Louvre is dated 1475; that in the Berlin Gallery, 1478. The "Crucifixion" in our Gallery is dated 1477. "It is evident to me," says Morelli, "that Antonello gradually formed himself by studying the works and seeking the society of the great Venetian masters, till he reached that degree of perfection which we miss in his early Ecce Homos and admire in his portraits of 1475-78. His Italian nature gradually works its way through the Flemish shell in which his first master had encased his hand as well as mind. In this transformation of Antonello as an artist Giovanni Bellini had obviously the greatest share. Whoever visits the churches of Messina, and of the towns and villages along that eastern coast of Sicily as far as Syracuse, will still find in many of them Madonnas, whether in colour or in marble, that remind him of Antonello and Giambellino. And not only did Antonello act powerfully on his own Sicilian countrymen; we also discern his influence in several portraits by painters of Upper Italy--for instance, those of Solario." No. 923, for example, the portrait of a Venetian Senator, by that master, is strongly reminiscent of Antonello's style. In fact, as Sir F. Burton says, "to Antonello and his Flemish education is due that type of portraiture which we find among the Venetian and North Italian painters of his time, and which, under a southern sun, and in the hands of a Titian, expanded itself in the noblest form." (The above account of Antonello follows Morelli: see his Italian Masters in German Galleries, pp. 376-390).

Christ as the "Saviour of the World," stands with his finger on the edge of a parapet, giving the blessing and gazing into eternity. The picture, being dated 1465,[164] must have been painted by Antonello in his twenty-first year. Both in conception and in the ruddy complexion peculiar to the school of Van Eyck (see 222 and 290) it suggests a Flemish influence. Notice also the pentimenti (or corrections): the right hand and border of the tunic were originally higher, and their forms, obliterated by the painter, have now in course of time disappeared. This again shows the hand of an experienced artist.

674. PORTRAIT OF A LADY.

Paris Bordone (Venetian: 1500-1570). See 637.

A splendid specimen of this painter's portraits, and a type of the face which meets one in nearly every Gallery of Europe; for Bordone, who had (as we have seen) a great vogue as a lady's portrait painter, had yet a way, says Ridolfi, of making such works appear more like fancy portraits than individual portraits. This one is of a girl of the Brignole family, aged eighteen, according to the inscription. In the Brignole Palace at Genoa (now the property of the town) are two magnificent portraits by Bordone. The type here is that of a cruel and somewhat sensual beauty--the eyes, especially, being, "like Mars, to threaten or command"--

Cold eyelids that hide like a jewel Hard eyes that grow soft for an hour; The heavy white limbs, and the cruel Red mouth like a venomous flower.

SWINBURNE: Dolores.

Since the above note was written, Mr. H. Schütz Wilson has suggested, with some plausibility, that the portrait is of Bianca Cappello (1542-1587), "as pre-eminent in sumptuous voluptuous loveliness, as she was in the crime of her day in Italy." "In the deadly calm of the almost inscrutable lineaments of this remarkable portrait, in which charm and grace are shown behind so much that is terrible, so much that is earthly, sensual, devilish, in those awful eyes, and in that cruel 'red mouth, like a venomous flower,' we see, as I fancy," says Mr. Wilson, "not an obscure girl of a noble family of Genoa, but the counterfeit presentment of the romantically wicked Renaissance heroine, the fair and evil Grand Duchess of Tuscany" (Pall Mall Gazette, November 22, 1888).

679. THE PORTRAIT OF AN ASTRONOMER.

Ferdinand Bol (Dutch: 1616-1680).

Bol was the most distinguished of Rembrandt's pupils in portraiture. He was born at Dordrecht, and settled at Amsterdam, where he acquired burgess rights in 1652. One of Bol's portraits in the Louvre has attained the honour of being hung in the Salon Carré. His "Four Regents of the Leprosy Hospital" at Amsterdam is the painter's masterpiece, and one of the finest works of the Dutch School. Bol's pictures are remarkable for a prevailing yellow tone. Up to about the year 1660 he seems to have remained the pupil of Rembrandt. "Unfortunately he did not remain faithful to his early teaching. He made sacrifices to the taste of his time, and abandoned the sober and grave figures, the severe and sustained method of painting, the powerful light and shade of his school, to seek a fresh source of success in overwhelming allegory and in the imitation of Rubens. This was his ruin. His later works, painted in full light, are very inferior to those of an earlier date; their colouring is hard, glaring, and discordant, and in composition they are frequently bombastic and pretentious" (Havard: The Dutch School of Painting, p. 93).

The sitter is conjectured to be an astronomer, from the globes on the table before him and from the look on his face as of a man dwelling among the clouds. The picture is signed, and dated 1652.

680. THE MIRACULOUS DRAUGHT OF FISHES.

Van Dyck (Flemish: 1599-1641). See 49.

Painted by Van Dyck from the large picture by Rubens at Mechlin, for an engraver to work from. "One of the too numerous brown sketches in the manner of the Flemish School, which seem to me rather done for the sake of wiping the brush clean than of painting anything. There is no colour in it, and no light and shade;--but a certain quantity of bitumen is rubbed about so as to slip more or less greasily into the shape of figures; and one of St. John's (or St. James's) legs is suddenly terminated by a wriggle of white across it, to signify that he is standing in the sea" (Art of England, p. 44). Ruskin notices the picture as an example of the art which was assailed by the Pre-Raphaelites. A word-picture of the same scene in the Pre-Raphaelite manner, with its literal and close realisation, will be found in Modern Painters, vol. iii. pt. iv. ch. iv. § 16.

685. SHOWERY WEATHER.

Meindert Hobbema (Dutch: 1638-1709).

Hobbema, who disputes with Ruysdael the place of best Dutch landscape painter, was a friend of the latter, and perhaps his pupil: certainly works of the two are sometimes remarkably alike. Thus it has been pointed out that Hobbema's No. 996 shows the influence of Ruysdael, whilst Ruysdael's No. 986 recalls Hobbema's. Often, too, they painted the same country; compare e.g. No. 986 with Hobbema's No. 832. Like Ruysdael, too, Hobbema was a painter without honour in his own country, and nine-tenths of his known works are in England, where he was first appreciated, and where he was the means of influencing many of our landscape painters, notably Nasmyth. His pictures were often ascribed to other painters, now considered greatly his inferiors, in order to obtain better prices. It has been remarked as a curious fact that until the middle of the eighteenth century no engraver thought it worth while to reproduce any of Hobbema's pictures; and Sir Joshua Reynolds in his Tour in Holland (1781) makes no reference to Hobbema, though he must have seen some of his pictures. Even a hundred years ago they were not much sought after; now they are more valued than those of any landscape painter and fetch very large prices at auctions. Recently one of them sold for as much as £8820. This appreciation is due in part to the fact that Hobbemas are very rare; the known works by him number hardly more than a hundred. Of Hobbema's life very little is recorded. His name (like that of Alma Tadema) betokens Frisian origin. His birthplace is unknown, but he appears to have been born at Amsterdam, and to have been the scholar of Jacob Ruysdael in landscape painting. Ruysdael was the witness at his marriage. This was in 1668. In the same year he was appointed one of the sworn gaugers for the excise of the town. "Thus, a century before Burns, fortune played upon one of the greatest of landscape painters the same trick that she played in his case upon the most spontaneous of poets." Hobbema was not the only painter of his time who had to eke out a bare subsistence by employment more lucrative than the production of masterpieces. Salomon van Ruysdael was also a frame-maker; Van Goyen speculated in houses, picture-dealing, and tulips; and Jan Steen was an innkeeper. The coincidence of Hobbema's marriage and his appointment as gauger of wines and oil was not by chance. The archives throw a curious light upon the public morals of Amsterdam at the time of its greatest prosperity. By a deed executed in the month of his marriage, Hobbema admits that he owes his appointment to the influence of a companion of his wife, like her a servant in the employment of the burgomaster, and in consideration of this he agrees to pay her, so long as he holds the place, an annual sum of 250 florins. Posterity owes this servant of the burgomaster a grudge, for after taking up the appointment, Hobbema scarcely painted any more. The post cannot, however, have been lucrative, for he died in evil circumstances--in a house directly opposite to that in which Rembrandt had died forty years before. The painter of works, any one of which is now worth a small fortune to its possessor, was buried in a pauper's grave.

In spite of the resemblance to Ruysdael above noted, Hobbema's best and most characteristic works are quite distinct. Ruysdael is the painter of the solitude of nature, of rocks and waterfalls; Hobbema of the Dutch "fields with dwellings sprinkled o'er." The pervading tone of Ruysdael is dark and sombre; that of Hobbema is drowsy and still. A second characteristic of Hobbema is his fondness for oak foliage, and a certain "nigglingness" in his execution of it. See e.g. 832, 833. "They (Hobbema and Both) can paint oak leafage faithfully, but do not know where to stop, and by doing too much, lose the truth of all, lose the very truth of detail at which they aim, for all their minute work only gives two leaves to nature's twenty. They are evidently incapable of even thinking of a tree, much more of drawing it, except leaf by leaf; they have no notion nor sense of simplicity, mass, or obscurity, and when they come to distance, where it is totally impossible that leaves should be separately seen, being incapable of conceiving or rendering the grand and quiet forms of truth, they are reduced to paint their bushes with dots and touches expressive of leaves three feet broad each." "No word," Ruskin elsewhere adds, "has been more harmfully misused than that ugly one of 'niggling.' I should be glad if it were entirely banished from service and record. The only essential question about drawing is whether it be right or wrong; that it be small or large, swift or slow, is a matter of convenience only. But so far as the word may be legitimately used at all, it belongs especially to such execution as this of Hobbema's--execution which substitutes, on whatever scale, a mechanical trick or habit of hand for true drawing of known or intended forms." A second objection to Hobbema's method may be mentioned besides its "trickiness." His "niggling" touch is extended from the foreground to objects farther off, and thus "a middle distance of Hobbema involves a contradiction in terms; it states a distance by perspective, which it contradicts by distinctness of detail" (Modern Painters, vol. i. pt. ii. sec. ii. ch. v. § 17, sec. vi. ch. i. § 22; vol. v. pt. vi. ch. v. § 6). In spite, however, of such defects, the works of Hobbema have an enduring charm for their incisiveness of touch, and warmth of light. He had not Ruysdael's variety nor his depth of poetic feeling. The forest glade and the watermill are almost all he paints. But these he paints so firmly and decisively that they live for ever, and upon them he casts a warm and golden tone which never fails to please.

686. THE VIRGIN AND CHILD.

Hans Memlinc (Early Flemish: 1430-1494).

It is only in the Hospital of St. John at Bruges that the art of this exquisite painter can be properly studied. There, as among the Fra Angelicos at San Marco in Florence and the Giottos at the Arena in Padua, one may see the great works of a mediæval painter in the very surroundings which first produced them. (Copies of some of Memlinc's works at Bruges and elsewhere are included in the Arundel Society's collection.) The Hospital is, as it were, a shrine of Memlinc. Around this fact legends grew. In one of the pictures, it was said, a portrait of the artist might be discovered; on the sculptured ornaments of a porch enframing one of its subjects, an incident of the master's life might be traced,--his danger as he lay senseless in the street, his rescue as charitable people carried his body to the hospital. It came to be told how the great artist began life as a soldier who went to the wars under Charles the Bold, and came back riddled with wounds from the field of Nancy. Wandering homeward in a disabled state in 1477, he fainted in the streets of Bruges, and was cured by the Hospitallers. Unknown to them and a stranger to Bruges, he gave tangible proofs of his skill to the brethren of St. John, and showed his gratitude by refusing payment for a picture he had painted. Unfortunately all this is a myth. Of his real life little is known, but it is enough to refute the legends that for so long passed current. In 1477 he was under contract to furnish an altar-piece for the guild chapel of the booksellers of Bruges; this picture, preserved under the name of the "Seven Griefs of Mary," is now one of the principal treasures of the Gallery of Turin. His many pictures for the Hospitallers were painted in 1479 and 1480. He was born at Mayence on the Rhine. His name (which should not be spelt Memling) was probably derived from the town of Memmelinck (now Medenblik) in the north-east of Holland, to which place his family presumably belonged. He is known from the town records to have been settled in Bruges in his own house in 1479. He must have been a citizen of some wealth, for in the next year he was one of those who contributed to a loan raised by Maximilian of Austria to push hostilities against France. In 1487 he lost his wife. In 1494 he died, his children being still minors, and was buried in the Church of St. Giles (see a document cited in the Athenæum of 2nd February 1889).

This is all that documentary evidence has disclosed about Memlinc's life. If the evidence of his pictures may be taken, his life must have been gentle and peaceful. For Memlinc's place in the history of art is among the leaders of the "Purist" School (see under 663). He was, we may say, the Fra Angelico of Flanders. In technique he used the methods perfected by the Van Eycks. "In drawing a comparison between Memlinc and his predecessors and contemporaries,[165] he is found inferior to John Van Eyck in power of colour and chiaroscuro, as well as in searching portraiture; to Van der Weyden in dramatic force; to Dierick Bouts and Gheeraert David in beauty and finish of landscape" (Weale's monograph on Memlinc, published by the Arundel Society). But Memlinc had a sentiment and an ideal of his own to which none of his Flemish contemporaries attained. "Van Eyck saw with his eye, Memlinc begins to see with his spirit. The one copied and imitated; the other copies, imitates,--and transfigures. Van Eyck, without any thought of an ideal, reproduced the virile types which passed before his eyes. Memlinc dreams as he looks, chooses what is most lovable and delicate in human forms, and creates above all as his feminine type a choice being who was unknown before his time, and has disappeared since. They are women, but women seen according to the tender predilections of a spirit in love with grace, nobility, beauty." Memlinc's men, on the other hand, do not compare advantageously with Van Eyck's. There is more vigour in the latter, more framework, more muscle, more blood. "Memlinc's art is very human, but there is in it no trace of the villainies and atrocities of his time. His ideal is his own. It foreshadowed perhaps the Bellinis, the Botticellis, the Peruginos, but not Leonardo, nor the Tuscans, nor the Romans of the Renaissance. Imagine in the midst of the horror of the century a privileged spot, a sort of angelic retreat where the passions are silenced and troubles cease, where men pray and worship, where physical and moral deformities are transfigured, where new sentiments come into being and sweet usages grow up like the lilies: imagine this and you will have an idea of the unique soul of Memlinc and of the miracle which he works in his pictures" (Fromentin: Les Maitres d'Autrefois).

In front is a portrait of the donor of the picture. On the Virgin's left is St. George with the dragon--not a very dreadful dragon, either--"they do not hurt or destroy" in the peaceful gardens that Memlinc fancied. Notice how the peaceful idea is continued in the man returning to his pleasant home in the background to the left. The Virgin herself is typical of the feminine idea in early Flemish art. "It must be borne in mind that the people of the fifteenth century still lived in an age when the language of symbols was rich and widely understood.... The high forehead of the Virgin and wide arching brows tell of her intellectual power, her rich long hair figures forth the fulness of her life, her slim figure and tiny mouth symbolise her purity, her mild eyes with their drooping eyelids discover her devoutness, her bent head speaks of humility. The supreme and evident virtue which reigns in all these Madonnas is an absolute purity of heart" (Conway's Early Flemish Painters, pp. 109, 110).

687. ST. VERONICA.

Meister Wilhelm of Cologne (Early German: living in 1380).

A work of interest as being by the first artist who emerges in the North as an individual painter--painting before his time being a mere appendage of other arts and the work solely of guilds. This "Master William," who is mentioned in an old chronicle as having "painted a man as though he were alive," was a native of Herle, near Cologne, and attained a prominent position in the latter town.

The subject of this picture is the compassionate woman whose door Christ passed when bearing his cross to Calvary. Seeing the drops of agony on his brow she wiped his face with her napkin, and the true image (Vera Icon: hence her name) of Christ remained miraculously impressed upon it--the Christ-like deed thus imprinting itself and abiding ever with her. The subject of the picture gives it a further historical interest as being suggestive of the mystics, the "Friends of God," as they called themselves, who were preaching in the Rhine Valley at this time, and under whose influence this early school of painting arose. "The mystic is one who claims to be able to see God with the inner vision of the soul. He studies to be quiet that his still soul may reflect the face of God"--even as did the cloth of St. Veronica (Beard's Hibbert Lectures).

690. "HIS OWN PORTRAIT."[166]

Andrea del Sarto (Florentine: 1486-1531).

The cabinet pictures of Andrea del Sarto, "the faultless painter," are well known to all visitors in the great galleries of Europe. There is a certain mannerism in them which makes them very easy of recognition. His type of Madonna is constant, for it was taken from the beautiful wife whom he loved so well, and who requited his love so ill. In his angels there is a delicate, misty beauty; and over all his works there is "that peculiar softness, harmony, and delicacy of colouring which the Italians call morbidezza, and which is to be seen in its perfection in the 'Madonna di San Francesco' in the Uffizi." That Holy Family (painted in 1517) is generally considered his masterpiece, and may be taken as the supreme type of similar pictures in all the galleries. Another typical work is the "Charity" of the Louvre (painted 1518). But it is only in Florence among his frescoes--now unhappily fading, but preserved in part by copies in the Arundel Society's collection--the frescoes of the Santissima Annunziata, the convent of S. Salvi, and, above all, the cloister of the Scalzo, that a full conception of Andrea's power can be obtained. "There only," says Mr. Swinburne, "can one trace and tell how great a painter and how various he was. There only, but surely there, can the influence and pressure of the things of time on his immortal spirit be understood.... In the little cloister of the Scalzo there is such exultation and exuberance of young power, of fresh passion and imagination, that only by the innate grace can one recognise the hand of the master whom hitherto we knew by the works of his after life, when the gift of grace had survived the gift of invention. This and all other gifts it did survive; all pleasure of life and power of mind. All these his charm of touch, his sweetness of execution, his 'Elysian beauty, melancholy grace' outlived and blossomed in their dust" (Mr. Swinburne's eloquent piece on this painter's works is in the first series of Essays and Studies, where also are some notes on the master's drawings in the Uffizi collection).

The painter's life is told in great detail and with much vivacity by Vasari, to whose pages every reader should turn. He was the pupil of Piero di Cosimo, and the friend and fellow-worker of Franciabigio. All their spare, time, we are told, was spent in drawing from the cartoons of Michelangelo and Leonardo. "After the exhibition of Michelangelo's celebrated 'Cartoon of Pisa,' in 1506, he became a decided imitator of that painter in design: in colour and light and shade Fra Bartolommeo appears to have been his model." His celebrated frescoes in the convent of the Annunziata (not completed till 1514) were among his earliest works. Those in the Scalzo were done in 1514. In 1517 he married, and in 1518 he went to Paris, returning to Florence in the following year. The story that he embezzled sums of money given him by the king for the purchase of pictures is open to suspicion, since the accounts of the king have been discovered. No trace of such moneys occurs, nor did the king ever make any effort to obtain restitution. Andrea died of the plague at the early age of forty-five.

Browning's poem, in which he sets forth the pathos of the artist's life, is the best commentary on this beautiful portrait--so masterly in workmanship, so rich in suggestion of character. The real name of Andrea del Sarto--"Andrew of the Tailor," so called from his father's trade--was Andrea d'Agnolo: his monogram, formed of two inverted A's, may here be seen on the background to the left. The Italians called him "the faultless painter": faultless, they meant, in all the technical requirements of painting--

All is silver-grey, Placid and perfect with my art.

But men may be "faultily faultless"; and what he lacked was just the one thing needful--the consecration and the poet's dream, which lift many works by less skilful hands than his into the higher region of imaginative art--

Their works drop groundward, but themselves, I know, Reach many a time a heaven that's shut to me,... My works are nearer heaven, but I sit here.

And the self-reproach was not less bitter for the knowledge of "what might have been." There is a story that Michael Angelo visited his studio, and said afterwards to Raphael--

"Friend, there's a certain little sorry scrub "Goes up and down our Florence, none cares how, "Who, were he set to plan and execute "As you are, pricked on by your popes and kings, "Would bring the sweat into that brow of yours!"

Yet Andrea himself too was once pricked on by kings. Two pictures of his had been sent to Francis I., who thereupon invited the painter to his court. And there for a time he worked and was honoured; but in the midst of it all he sat reading the letters which Lucrezia, his wife, sent him to Paris. "You called me and I came home to your heart." It is her face which we see everywhere in Andrea's Madonnas, and if at any time he took his model from any other face, there was always a resemblance to hers in the painting--

You smile? why, there's my picture ready made!

But Lucrezia served as his model, not his ideal. She had been married before to a hatter, but was remarkable, says Vasari, who worked in Andrea's studio and had a grudge against her, "as much for pride and haughtiness, as for beauty and fascination."[167] And

Had the mouth there urged "God and the glory! never care for gain.... "Live for fame, side by side with Agnolo! "Rafael is waiting: up to God, all three!" I might have done it for you. So it seems.

It is in some such mood of communing with himself that we seem here to see the painter; yet there is a certain undercurrent of contentment below the look of melancholy. "The force of a beautiful face carries me to heaven": so sang Michael Angelo. Lucrezia dragged her husband down; his rivals overcame him--

Because there's still Lucrezia,--as I choose.

691. "ECCE HOMO!"

Ascribed to Lo Spagna (Umbrian: painted 1503-1530). See 1032.

602. ST. HUGO OF GRENOBLE.

Lodovico of Parma (Parmese: early 16th century).

Said to have been a scholar of Francia.

The crozier shows him to be a bishop, and it is inscribed S. VGO. This is St. Hugo (died 1132), who was Bishop of Grenoble when St. Bruno founded the Chartreuse, and who often resided amongst the Carthusians. Doubtless he was not an unwelcome visitor, for he had the power, it is said, of converting fowls into fish, which it was lawful to eat. For forty years, it is further told of him, he had haunting doubts on the old, old question of the origin of evil. The good bishop referred them at last to Pope Gregory VII., who greatly comforted St. Hugo by assuring him that such doubts were only sent to try his virtue and faith in the providence of God in permitting evil in the world.

693. ST. CATHERINE OF ALEXANDRIA.

Pinturicchio (Umbrian: 1454-1513).

Bernardino di Betto, or the son of Benedetto, was commonly called Pinturicchio, "the little painter." He is not strongly represented in our Gallery. His principal works are the decorated ceiling and frescoes in the Library of Siena, which represent the life of the Pope Aeneas Sylvius Piccolomini (Pius II.). A drawing of this Library and copies of some of the frescoes are in the Arundel Society's Collection. Pinturicchio, says Symonds, is "a kind of Umbrian Gozzoli, who brings us here and there in close relation to the men of his own time. His wall-paintings in the library of the Cathedral of Siena are so well preserved that we need not seek elsewhere for better specimens of the decorative art most highly prized in the first years of the 16th century. These frescoes have a richness of effect and a vivacity of natural action which, in spite of their superficiality, render them highly charming. The life of Pius II. is treated like a legend. Both Pope and Emperor are romantically conceived, and each portion of the tale is told as though it were a part in some popular ballad. So much remains of Perugian affectation as gives a kind of childlike grace to the studied attitudes and many-coloured groups of elegant young men" (Renaissance, iii. 220). In the foreground of one of the frescoes is a charming figure, supposed to be a portrait of the young Raphael. Vasari states and subsequent writers have repeated that Pinturicchio was assisted in these frescoes by Raphael. This supposition rests on three drawings attributed to Raphael, but now proved to be by Pinturicchio, who bound himself to execute the whole work with his own hand. Morelli's attribution to Pinturicchio of the so-called "Raphael's sketch-book" at Venice is one of the most important of that critic's discoveries. "If (says Morelli) in representing serious religious subjects, he does not come up to Perugino as regards proportion, finish, and the filling of space; if his forms are not so noble, and the expression of religious sentiment not so deep as in Pietro; yet, on the other hand, Pinturicchio is, to my mind, less conscious, more fresh and racy than Perugino, and does not so often fatigue us by monotony and that conventional sweetness which, especially in the productions of his last twenty years, makes Pietro positively wearisome. And, as an imaginative landscape-painter, Pinturicchio surpasses almost all of his contemporaries" (German Galleries, p. 285). Pinturicchio's frescoes at Siena occupied him from 1502 to 1509. He probably studied first under Fiorenzo di Lorenzo (No. 1103); afterwards he entered into partnership with Pietro Perugino. He went to Rome in 1479 and was honoured by commissions from cardinals and popes. Among his works in Rome are frescoes representing the stories of the Virgin and St. Jerome in S. Maria del Popolo; frescoes in the Appartamenti Borgia in the Vatican, and frescoes of S. Bernardino of Siena in the Bufalini Chapel, S. Maria Aracoeli. Morelli attributes to him also two of the frescoes in the Sixtine Chapel (the Baptism of Christ and the History of Moses). In 1500 he commenced the beautiful series of frescoes, now much disfigured, in the collegiate church at Spello (see Arundel Society's copies). That he was held in high esteem by his fellow-citizens is shown by his having been elected in 1501 Decemvir of Perugia in place of Pietro Perugino. Unlike Perugino, he never mastered the use of oil, but painted in tempera. Vasari, who did not like Pinturicchio, describes him as somewhat of a hack, and still more of a lover of money. "Among other qualities he possessed that of giving considerable satisfaction to princes and nobles because he quickly brought the works commanded by them to an end." As for his love of money, he died of vexation, Vasari assures us, "because a certain trunk which he had insisted on being removed from his painting-room in Siena was afterwards found to be full of gold pieces." According, however, to a contemporary writer, his wife left him alone in his house when ill, and he was starved to death.

St. Catherine of Alexandria was of all the female saints next to Mary Magdalene the most popular: she meets us in nearly every room in the National Gallery, and even in London, churches and districts once placed under her protection still retain her name. Her general attributes are a book, a sword, and a wheel. The meaning of these will be seen from the legend of her which crusaders brought from the East. She was the daughter of a queen, and of marvellous wisdom and understanding. And when the time came that she should govern her people, she, shunning responsibility and preferring wisdom before sovereignty, shut herself up in her palace and gave her mind to the study of philosophy. For this wilful seclusiveness her people wished her to marry a husband who should at once fulfil the duties of government and lead them forth to battle. But she, to prevent this repugnant union, made one more spiritual by her mystical marriage with Christ. And for this and other unworldly persistencies, the heathen tyrant Maximin would have broken her on a wheel, but that "fire came down from heaven, sent by the destroying angel of God, and broke the wheel in pieces." Yet for all this the tyrant repented not, and after scourging St. Catherine with rods beheaded her with the sword, and so having won the martyr's palm, she entered into the joy of her Lord.

694. ST. JEROME IN HIS STUDY.

School of Giovanni Bellini.[168] See under 189.

Besides translating the Bible, St. Jerome (see 227) is famous as one of the founders of the monastic system, "of the ordered cell and tended garden where before was but the desert and the wild wood," and he died in the monastery he had founded at Bethlehem. This picture shows us the inside of monastic life. St. Jerome, with the scholar's look of quiet satisfaction, is deep in study; his room has no luxury, but is beautiful in its grace and order; the lion, who seems here to be sharing his master's meditation, and the partridge peering into the saint's slippers, speak of the love of the old monks for the lower animals; and the beautiful landscape seen through the open window recalls the sweet nooks which they everywhere chose and tended for their dwelling. The effect of the whole picture is to suggest the peaceful simplicity of the old religious life in contrast to the "getting and spending" with which we now "lay waste our powers."

The picture belongs to what Ruskin has called the "Time of the Masters," who desire only to make everything dainty and delightful. "Everything in it is exquisite, complete, and pure; there is not a particle of dust in the cupboards, nor a cloud in the air; the wooden shutters are dainty, the candlestick is dainty, the saint's blue hat is dainty, and its violet tassel, and its ribbon, and his blue cloak, and his spare pair of shoes, and his little brown partridge--it is all a perfect quintessence of innocent luxury--absolute delight, without one drawback in it, nor taint of the Devil anywhere" (Verona and other Lectures, § 26). For another specimen of this "pictorial perfectness and deliciousness," see 288 (especially the compartment with Raphael and Tobit).

As for the partridge, this is frequently introduced into sacred pictures, especially those of the Venetian School. There is a pretty legend of St. John which perhaps accounts for it, and which makes its introduction very appropriate in the picture of a recluse. St. John had, it is said, a tame partridge, which he cherished much, and amused himself with feeding and tending. A certain huntsman, passing by with his bow and arrows, was astonished to see the great apostle, so venerable for his age and sanctity, engaged in such an amusement. The apostle asked him if he always kept his bow bent. He answered that would be the way to render it useless. "If," replied St. John, "you unbend your bow to prevent its being useless, so do I thus unbend my mind for the same reason" (Mrs. Jameson: Sacred and Legendary Art, p. 100).

695. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Andrea Previtali (Bergamese: about 1480-1528).

This painter (whose personality is in some art-histories merged in that of Cordelle Agii, see 1409) was one of Bellini's numerous pupils--a provincial from Bergamo, "a dry, honest, monotonous" painter (see Morelli's German Galleries, pp. 178-181, and under 1203). "As regards technique, Previtali is certainly very eminent; in brilliance of colouring he is not behind any of Bellini's pupils, and the landscapes in the background of his pictures are for the most part neatly and faultlessly executed. But he lacks the main attributes of a great artist--invention and the power of original representation." Whilst painting in Venice, he signed his pictures Andreas Bergomensis; on his return to Bergamo, Andreas Previtalus. His pictures at Bergamo are numerous; the best is the altar-piece in S. Spirito.

A characteristic example of the painter. The figure of the monk in adoration is somewhat hard. The landscape background is pleasant.

696. MARCO BARBARIGO.

Unknown (Flemish: 15th century). See also (p. xx)

He was Venetian Consul in London in 1449, and holds in his hand a letter addressed to him there. He was subsequently elected Doge, but died (in 1486), after holding the office for six months. It is recorded of him as Doge that he was a specially mild-tempered and good man--a character which is not belied in this portrait of him in his earlier days. This portrait was formerly ascribed to Gerard van der Meire (see under 1078). It is now by some attributed to Petrus Cristus.

697. PORTRAIT OF A TAILOR.

Moroni (Bergamese: 1525-1578).

Giambattista Moroni is one of the greatest of the Italian portrait-painters, and this picture is perhaps his best-known and most popular production.[169] The works of Moroni appeal alike to the general public and to the painter. He gave to his figures a vitality and ease, and impressed upon them a verisimilitude which appeal to every spectator. His works (adds Sir F. Burton) "will always be highly estimated by the painter, as they exhibit rare technical merits, perfect knowledge and command of means, facility of execution without display of dexterity, truth of colour, and the finest perception of the value of tones." "No portrait-painter ever placed the epidermis of the human face upon canvas with more fidelity, and with greater truth than Moroni: his portraits have all a more or less prosaic look, but they must all have had that startling likeness to the original which so enchants the great public, who exclaim 'The very man! just how he looks!' And it was with the eyes of the great public that Moroni did look at his subjects; he was not a poet in the true sense of the word, but a consummate painter. Yet, now and then, he manages to go beyond himself, and to pierce the surface till he reaches the soul of the sitter. In such cases his portraits may rank with those of Titian" (Morelli's German Galleries, p. 48). His colouring varied at different periods of his life. For examples of his manner before he came under Il Moretto's influence see 1023 and 1316--the reddish hue of his flesh-tints being characteristic. In his second period he adopted the "silvery" manner of Il Moretto: seen here and in 1022; whilst for his third, or naturalistic manner see 742. Moroni is a distinguished ornament of the school of Bergamo--a provincial school characterised, says Morelli, by "manly energy," but also by "a certain prosaic want of refinement." See, for other Bergamese painters, Previtali (695) and Cariani (1203). Palma Vecchio, the greatest of them, is represented by the "Portrait of Ariosto," 636. Giambattista Moroni was a painter without honour in his own country, and when people from Bergamo came to Titian to be painted, he used to refer them to their own countryman--no better face painter, he would tell them, existed. Moroni is believed to have entered the studio of Moretto at Brescia when fifteen years of age. His religious pictures are inferior reflections of his master's. Upon one of them, still preserved in the church of Gorlago (between Bergamo and Brescia) he was engaged at the time of his death. No admirer of Moroni should omit to visit Bergamo: a splendid series of his portraits is to be seen in the Carrara gallery of that town. There too, as also in the gallery at Verona, is a pretty portrait by him of a little girl.

A "speaking portrait." "The tailor's picture is so well done," says an old Italian critic, "that it speaks better than an advocate could." A portrait that enables one, moreover, to realise what was once meant by a "worshipful company of merchant tailors." Tagliapanni--for such is his name--is no Alton Locke--- no discontented "tailor and poet"; neither is he like some fashionable West-End tailor, with ambitions of rising above his work. He is well-to-do--notice his handsome ring; but he has the shears in his hands. He does the work himself, and he likes the work. He is something of an artist, it would seem, in clothes: his jacket and handsome breeches were a piece of his work, one may suppose; and the artist has caught and immortalised him, as he is standing back for a minute to calculate the effect of his next cut.

698. THE DEATH OF PROCRIS.

Piero di Cosimo (Florentine: 1462-1521).

A very characteristic work, and the most interesting of those extant, by Piero, called di Cosimo, after his godfather and master, Cosimo Rosselli. Piero's peculiarities are well known to all readers of George Eliot's Romola, where everything told us about him by Vasari in one of his most amusing chapters is carefully worked up. The first impression left by this picture--its quaintness--is precisely typical of the man. He shut himself off from the world and stopped his ears; lived in the untidiest of rooms, and would not have his garden tended, "preferring to see all things wild and savage about him." He took his meals at times and in ways that no other man did, and Romola used to coax him with sweets and hard-boiled eggs. His fondness for quaint landscape ("he would sometimes stand beside a wall," says Vasari, "and image forth the most extraordinary landscapes that ever were") may be seen in this picture; so also may his love of animals, in which, says Vasari, he took "indescribable pleasure." Piero accompanied his master, Cosimo Rosselli, to Rome in 1480, and painted the landscape to that master's "Sermon on the Mount" in the Sixtine Chapel. He painted several altar-pieces, but his true bent was towards mythological subjects and quaintly decorative treatment. Vasari describes in detail a Carnival triumph devised by Piero. This and the adornment of dwelling-rooms and marriage-chests were the forms in which his fantastic originality found the most congenial expression. He was also a good portrait-painter: No. 895 in this gallery has recently been recognised as his work.

The subjects of Piero's pictures were generally mythological. In Romola he paints Tito and Romola as Bacchus and Ariadne; here he shows the death of Procris, the story in which the ancients embodied the folly of jealousy. For Procris being told that Cephalus was unfaithful, straightway believed the report and secretly followed him to the woods, for he was a great hunter. And Cephalus called upon "aura," the Latin for breeze, for Cephalus was hot after the chase: "Sweet air, O come," and echo answered, "Come, sweet air." But Procris, thinking that he was calling after his mistress, turned to see, and as she moved she made a rustling in the leaves, which Cephalus mistook for the motion of some beast of the forest, and let fly his unerring dart, which Procris once had given him.

But Procris lay among the white wind-flowers, Shot in the throat. From out the little wound The slow blood drained, as drops in autumn showers Drip from the leaves upon the sodden ground. None saw her die but Lelaps, the swift hound, That watched her dumbly with a wistful fear, Till at the dawn, the hornèd wood-men found And bore her gently on a sylvan bier, To lie beside the sea,--with many an uncouth tear.

Piero's treatment of the theme is, it should be noted, romantic, rather than classical; in which respect his picture is characteristic of the earlier Renaissance. "In creating his Satyr the painter has not had recourse to any antique bas-relief, but has imagined for himself a being half human, half bestial, and yet wholly real; nor has he portrayed in Procris a nymph of Greek form, but a girl of Florence. The strange animals and gaudy flowers introduced into the landscape background further remove the subject from the sphere of classic treatment. Florentine realism and quaint fancy being thus curiously blended, the artistic result may be profitably studied for the light it throws upon the so-called Paganism of the earlier Renaissance. Fancy at that moment was more free than when superior knowledge of antiquity had created a demand for reproductive art, and when the painters thought less of the meaning of the fable for themselves than of its capability of being used as a machine for the display of erudition" (Symonds's Renaissance, iii. 187). Piero seems to have taken his background from Lake Thrasymene.

Piero's poetic fancy in this picture has aroused a responsive echo in the poets of our own day. The lines quoted above are from "The Death of Procris; a version suggested by the so-named picture of Piero di Cosimo in the National Gallery," in Mr. Austin Dobson's Old World Idylls. Another version of the picture may be found in Michael Field's Sight and Song:--

And there she lies half-veiled, half-bare, Deep in the midst of nature that abides Inapprehensive she is lying there, So wan; The flowers, the silver estuary afar-- These daisies, plantains, all the white and red Field-blossoms through the leaves and grasses spread; The water with its pelican, Its flight of sails and its blue countrysides-- Unto themselves they are; The dogs sport on the sand, The herons curve about the reeds Or one by one descend the air, While lifelessly she bleeds From throat and dabbled hand.

Mr. Ruskin also has written a piece around our picture, which he reads with a different eye from "Michael Field,"[170] seeing in it not so much the inapprehensiveness of nature as the pathetic fallacy whereby the moods of nature are made to sympathise with human joy or sorrow:--

"The next best landscape (to Bellini's 'Peter Martyr') in the National Gallery is a Florentine one on the edge of transition to the Greek feeling; and in that the distance is still beautiful, but misty, not clear; the flowers are still beautiful, but, intentionally, of the colour of blood; and in the foreground lies the dead body of Procris, which disturbs the poor painter greatly; and he has expressed his disturbed mind about it in the figure of a poor little brown (nearly black) Faun, or perhaps the god Faunus himself, who is much puzzled by the death of Procris, and stoops over her, thinking it a woful thing to find her pretty body lying there breathless, and all spotted with blood on the breast" (Lectures on Landscape, § 94).

699. AGOSTINO AND NICCOLO DELLA TORRE.

Lorenzo Lotto (Venetian: 1480-1555).

To this great painter full justice has scarcely been done by writers on art--an omission which in recent years Morelli and still more Mr. Berenson, in his elaborate monograph, have sought to repair. Lotto led a wandering life, which took him much away from Venice; hence his pictures are comparatively little known. Again, as Sir F. Burton points out, "great versatility and remarkable impressibility are among the chief characteristics of Lotto, who certainly was possessed of genius but whose development was oscillating and affected by many influences. Only by extremely careful study and comparison can his hand be traced throughout in works, which at first sight exhibit little or nothing in common. Were none of Lotto's works signed or otherwise attested they would certainly bear very various attributions, as indeed many of his unsigned pictures have done, and as it is likely some do still." The portrait, for instance, of Andrea Odoni at Hampton Court was for several centuries attributed to Correggio, but recent cleaning has uncovered Lotto's signature and the date 1527. Of his power as a portrait-painter visitors to the National Gallery can form a good idea. His works in this sort will bear comparison with the best of his contemporaries. They have, says Morelli, "all that refined, inward elegance of feeling which marks the culminating point in the last stage of progressive art in Italy, and which is principally represented by Leonardo da Vinci, Lotto, Andrea del Sarto, and Correggio; whereas the elegance of Bronzino in Tuscany, and of Parmigiano in North Italy, is an outward affected one, which has nothing to do with the inner life of the person represented, and therefore characterises the first stage of declining art." His sympathetic nature enabled him to seize the finer traits of his sitters, and they in turn "look out from his canvasses as if begging for the sympathy" of the spectator. No. 1047 in our Gallery is especially characteristic. Lotto's altar-pieces, which were numerous, must be studied at Treviso, Recanati, Jesi, Bergamo, and Trescorre (frescoes), near the latter place. His pictures at different periods (they are for the most part dated) show strong resemblances to different painters--to Bellini and the Vivarini, to Palma, to Titian, to Giorgione, and to Correggio. He was born at Venice, and, according to Vasari, was a disciple of John Bellini. Mr. Berenson, on the contrary, maintains on internal evidence that Lotto must have belonged to the rival school of Alvise Vivarini. Of Palma, he was, according to Vasari, the friend and companion. With Titian he was on friendly terms, though if we may judge from a letter by Pietro Aretino, the attitude of the worldly Titian coterie to the gentle Lotto, was not unmixed with some contempt. "O Lotto," he writes, "as goodness good, and as talent talented, Titian from Augsburg, in the midst of the high favour everybody is eager to show him, greets and embraces you by the token of the letter which I received from him two days ago. He says that it would double the pleasure that he takes in the emperor's satisfaction with the picture he is now painting, if he had your eye and your judgment to approve him. And indeed, the painter is not mistaken, for your judgment has been formed by age, by nature, and by art, with the prompting of that straightforward kindliness which pronounces upon the works of others exactly as if they were your own. Envy is not in your breast. Rather do you delight to see in other artists certain qualities which you do not find in your own brush, although it performs those miracles which do not come easy to many who yet feel very happy over their technical skill. But holding the second place in the art of painting is nothing compared to holding the first place in the duties of religion, for Heaven will recompense you with a glory that passes the praise of this world.--Venice, April 1548." The resemblance between Lotto and Correggio was founded on no personal intercourse or artistic "influence," but on similarity of temperament. It is most conspicuous in the works of Lotto's "Bergamask period" (1518-1526). But whereas Correggio's sensitiveness is to impressions of outward joy and beauty, Lotto's is attuned rather to states of the human soul. Titian's sitters, it has been well said, are as if on parade, and his religious pictures tell of the pomp or rapture of public services. Lotto's sitters commune rather with their own souls, and in his devotional pieces he aims at a personal interpretation of religious motives. "As a colourist," says Burton, "Lotto remained throughout a Venetian. His flesh tints are true, and various as the age, sex, and temperament of the persons depicted." All that we know of his life suggests a reserved, sensitive, and unworldly nature. Unlike so many of his contemporaries, he never sued the favour of the mighty. In his account book recently discovered at Loreto he speaks again and again of having done excellent work for people who remunerated him with pence where if a contract had been made they would have had to pay him in pounds. He lodged sometimes with friends, sometimes with monks. His life was that of a lonely wanderer, very industrious, but laying up no store. In 1554 he made over himself and all his belongings to the Holy House at Loreto, "being tired of wandering and wishing to end his days in that holy place." During the last years of his life he had almost entirely lost his voice. In one of his wills is a reference which shows us the temperament of the man. Among his scanty possessions were a number of antique gems. These he speaks of lovingly, because they were engraved with mystic symbols for the spirit to brood upon (see Lorenzo Lotto: an Essay in Constructive Criticism, by Bernhard Berenson, 1895; and Morelli's German Galleries, pp. 31-40; Roman Galleries, p. 301).

Agostino was Professor of Medicine in the University of Padua; he holds a copy of "Galen," the most celebrated of the ancient medical writers, in his hand. It was for Niccolo, however, according to the inscription, that the picture was painted in 1515; and Signor Morelli (its former owner) thinks that Agostino's portrait must have been inserted at a later time, for "it is placed very awkwardly in the background" (German Galleries, p. 37 n.). "No one with a feeling for composition can doubt for an instant that Agostino was originally intended to be alone on the canvas, as he occupies all of it that a single bust ought to occupy. Morelli's inference seems thus to be well founded that Lotto, on his return from Venice to Bergamo, stopped at Padua and painted the portrait of Agostino, which he brought to Niccolo at Bergamo, who thereupon had his own portrait added.... Lotto's sitters were in no way remarkable. Nevertheless, he gives them a look of refinement and innate sweetness of nature which brings us very close to them" (Berenson, pp. 138, 321).

700. THE HOLY FAMILY.

Bernardino Lanini (Lombard: about 1508-1578).

Lanini was a native of Vercelli, and a scholar of Gaudenzio Ferrari. Subsequently he approached more to the manner of Leonardo, as in this picture dated 1543. His works are frequent at Turin and Vercelli. There is an altar-piece by him at Borgo Sesia, near Varallo; his principal works are frescoes in the Cathedral at Novara.

Mr. Pater bids us notice in this picture the "pensive, tarnished silver sidelights, like mere reflections of natural sunshine" ("Art Notes in North Italy," New Review, Nov. 1890).

701. THE CORONATION OF THE VIRGIN.

Justus of Padua (died 1400).

A picture of interest as being the oldest by any North Italian painter in the Gallery--the date inscribed on the plinth below is 1367. Justus (Giusto di Giovanni) was a native of Florence, who in 1375 settled in Padua and founded his style upon the works of Giotto in that town. The frescoes at Padua formerly ascribed to him are now said to be the works of his scholars, Giovanni and Antonio da Padova.

None of the pictures in our Gallery by followers of Giotto is so satisfactory as this; "exquisite both in design and colour, though on a very small scale, it has," says Sir E. Poynter, "all the largeness of style which characterises the great Florentine fourteenth-century frescoes" (The National Gallery, i. 258). "The Virgin is of a fresh type, pretty and noble also. Amongst the saints in the centre picture that of St. Paul (on the extreme right) is distinguished by its natural bearing. There is, however, vigour and a sense of beauty and proportion throughout this charming little work." In the panel to the left, with the Nativity, "may be noticed the spirit of alertness in the attendant waiting to wash the child, and the statuesque design of St. Joseph"; in that to the right, with the crucifixion, "the figure of St. John, at the foot of the Cross, with its fine expression of grief, and beautifully-designed drapery" (Monkhouse, Italian Pre-Raphaelites, p. 23). Above is the Annunciation, with regard to which see notes on No. 1139. On the reverse side of the wings are other incidents from the life of the Virgin.

This and the pictures following (701-722) were presented by Queen Victoria to the National Gallery "in fulfilment of the wishes of H.R.H. the Prince Consort." They formerly belonged to the collection of H.I.H. Prince Louis of Oettingen-Wallerstein, and afterwards became the property of Prince Albert. It was his intention from the first to present them to the nation, but the gift was delayed owing to the uncertainty with regard to the site of the proposed new National Gallery. The Prince's purpose remained unaccomplished, but not forgotten, at his death, and in 1863 the best pictures from the collection were presented by Queen Victoria to the nation.

702. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Unknown (Umbrian: 15th-16th century).

Formerly ascribed to L'Ingegno. See 1220.

703. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Pinturicchio (Umbrian: 1454-1513). See 693.

704. COSIMO, DUKE OF TUSCANY.

Angelo Bronzino (Florentine: 1502-1572). See 649. See also (p. xx)

A contemporary portrait of the great Medici, the first "Grand Duke" of Tuscany (ruled 1537-1564), who was regarded in his day as the very incarnation of Machiavelli's Prince, "inasmuch as he joined daring to talent and prudence," and though "he could practise mercy in due season," was yet "capable of great cruelty." No one, who notices here that large protruding under lip of his, will doubt this last element in his character.

705. STS. MATTHEW, CATHERINE, AND JOHN.

Ascribed to Stephan Lochner (Early German: died 1451).

"Meister Stephan" was a native of Constance, who settled in Cologne, and whose work has the stamp of the early Cologne School (see 687). His chief work is the so-called Dombild, now in Cologne Cathedral: "Item. I gave two white pennies," says Albert Dürer in his diary, "to see the picture that Master Staffan of Cologne painted." This famous altar-piece has been published by the Arundel Society. "Italian Art," says Sir F. Burton, "has seldom produced a group so beautiful as that of the crowned Madonna in its central panel." Another exquisite little picture ascribed to Meister Stephan is in the Cologne Museum.

Three figures full of innocent fervour and graceful sentimentality. St. Matthew as an evangelist holds a book and a pen, and is attended by the symbolic angel. St. John is attended by the eagle, which is the constant symbol of this evangelist, because he soared upwards to the contemplation of the divine nature of the Saviour.

706. PRESENTATION OF CHRIST IN THE TEMPLE.

The Master of the Lyversberg Passion (German: died about 1490).

A picture by the unknown painter of a series of Passion pictures, formerly belonging to Herr Lyversberg of Cologne, but now in the Museum of the city. He painted also a series of eight subjects from the Life of Mary. Of these six are in the Pinacothek at Munich, a seventh is in the German Museum at Nuremberg, and our picture is the eighth.

Characteristic of the German School after the Flemish influence. The sky background is gilt as in the old German pictures, but the types of the figures are Flemish. Notice the quaint pointed shoes, and the touch of realism in making the foot of Simeon, as he advances to receive the child from its mother, come half out of his slipper.

707. ST. PETER AND ST. DOROTHY.

Master of the Cologne Crucifixion (Early German School: early 16th century).

Part of an altar-piece, the rest of which is in the Munich Gallery, by an artist whose name is unknown, and who is therefore called after his principal works (now in the Cologne Museum). It has been well said of him that "he succeeded in giving an intense expression of transient emotion to the faces; but by endeavouring to lend a sympathetic action to the whole figure, he has exaggerated the action into distortion" (History of Painting, from the German of Woltmann and Woermann, ii. 224). This is conspicuously the case here. Look, for instance, at the comic contrast between St. Peter's big foot and St. Dorothy's pointed little shoe--between what is almost a leer on his face and the "mincing" affectation on hers. St. Peter is distinguished of course by the keys; St. Dorothy by the basket of flowers--the flowers which she sent to Theophilus in token of the truth of the faith in which she died: "Carry these to Theophilus, say that Dorothea has sent them, and that I go before him to the garden whence they came and await him there" (see Mrs. Jameson; Sacred and Legendary Art, p. 336, ed. 1850).

708. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Unknown[171] (Early Flemish: 15th century).

The Madonna offers Christ an apple--symbol of the forbidden fruit, and thus of the sin in the world which he came to remove.

709. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Unknown (Flemish School; 15th-16th century). See also (p. xx)

"In Flemish pictures the varnish was incorporated with the surface colours, and cannot be removed without destroying at the same time the very fabric of the work. For this reason all attempts to, what is called, restore, or clean pictures of the Flemish School, result only in the destruction of the work, and by this means many fine pictures have, for all practical purposes, perished.... (This picture) is a lamentable example" (Conway's Early Flemish Artists, p. 119).

710. PORTRAIT OF A MONK.

Unknown[172] (Early Flemish: 15th century).

711. "MATER DOLOROSA."

712. "ECCE HOMO!"

Roger van der Weyden (Flemish: 1400-1464). See 664.

"It was a common custom with Roger's followers to copy single heads out of their master's large groups. Such single heads always have gold backgrounds, usually dotted over with little black dashes" (Conway's Early Flemish Artists, p. 275). These companion panels are perhaps instances, and the heads selected for reproduction are typical of the overstrained pathos of this school. Notice how prominently the tears in the sorrowing mother, and the blood and tears in the "Ecco Homo" are made to stand out.

713. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Jan Mostaert (Early Dutch: 1474-1555). See also (p. xx)

Mostaert, a native of Haarlem, was for eighteen years painter to Margaret of Austria, Regent of the Netherlands. A picture ascribed to him is preserved in the church of Notre Dame at Bruges, but no known pictures bear his signature. A large number of his works perished in the great fire at Haarlem in 1571.

One of the few specimens in the Gallery of the first period of Dutch art, when it was still following the traditions of the Early Flemish School.

714. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Cornelis Engelbertsz (Dutch: 1468-1533). See also (p. xx)

Engelbertsz was one of the earliest oil painters at Leyden, and is said to have been the master of Lucas of Leyden. Most of his important religious works were destroyed by the Dutch iconoclasts of the sixteenth century.

715. THE CRUCIFIXION.

Joachim Patinir (Early Flemish: died 1524). See also (p. xx)

Patinir (born at Dinant, but settled in Antwerp) was styled by Albert Dürer, who stayed with him when in Antwerp, drew his portrait and attended his wedding, "Joachim the good landscape painter." What distinguishes his landscape is its greater expanse, as compared with earlier works. The Flemish painters preceding him were mostly content with the narrow domestic scenery of their own Maas country. But Patinir's pictures "embrace miles of country, and open on every side.... Some far-away cottage by the river-side, some hamlet nestling against a remote hill-slope, some castle on a craggy peak, blue against the transparent sky--such objects were a joy to him.... Moreover, with Patinir the fantastic element was of much importance. He wished his landscapes to be romantic.... He would have precipitous rocks.... His river must pass through gorges or under natural archways; his skies must be full of moving clouds; his wide districts of country must present contrasts of rocky mountain, water, and fertile plains.... He saw also the grandeur of wild scenery, and strove, though not with perfect success, to bring that into his pictures, showing thereby the possession of a foretaste of that delight in nature for her own sake, the full enjoyment of which has been reserved for the people of our own century" (Conway's Early Flemish Artists, pp. 299, 300). "His figures," says Sir F. Burton, "while retaining old Netherlandish characteristics, are good, expressive, and even noble in conception." Most of the Galleries contain pictures by Patinir. Madrid is particularly rich in them.

"A high authority on early Flemish art, M. Henri Hymans, has stated that the figures in the 'Crucifixion' given to Joachim Patinir, and of which the landscape is undoubtedly his, are by the painter's friend, Quentin Matsys. Unquestionably these figures differ much in colour and execution from those contained in such other examples of Patinir in the National Gallery as the 'Nun' (945), or 'The Visit of the Virgin to St. Elizabeth' (1082)" (Claude Phillips in the Academy, September 28, 1889).

716. ST. CHRISTOPHER.

Joachim Patinir (Early Flemish: died 1524). See 715.

One of the earliest attempts in painting to tell the beautiful legend of Christopher (the Christ bearer), the hermit ferryman, who, "having sustained others in their chief earthly trials, afterwards had Christ for companion of his own." The best account of the legend of St. Christopher is to be found in Miss Alexander's Roadside Songs of Tuscany, edited by Ruskin, illustrated with "the most beautiful and true designs that have ever yet been made out of all the multitude by which alike the best spiritual and worldly power of Art have commended to Christendom its noblest monastic legend."

717. ST. JOHN ON THE ISLAND OF PATMOS.

Joachim Patinir (Early Flemish: died 1524). See 715.

The evangelist on the island of Patmos, writing the revelations out of an ink-horn held by an eagle, which an imp is attempting to steal. In the sky above are the revelations themselves: "And there appeared a great wonder in heaven; a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars.... And there appeared another wonder in heaven; and behold a great red dragon, having seven heads and ten horns, and seven crowns upon his heads" (Revelation xii. 1, 3).

718. CHRIST ON THE CROSS.

Ascribed to Hendrik Bles (Flemish: about 1480-1550).

Bles, called by the Italians "Civetta" (the owl), on account of the owl which he often adopted as his monogram, was an imitator of Patinir (see 715). Van Mander says that his nickname was Met de Bles (with the forelock), but as he signs himself Henricus Blessius, it is probable that Bles was his real name.

719. THE READING MAGDALEN.

Ascribed to Hendrik Bles (See last picture).

For the subject see No. 654.

720. A "REPOSE" (see No. 160).

721. PORTRAIT OF A LADY.

Jan van Schorel (Dutch: 1495-1562).

Schorel, so called from his birthplace, belongs to the second period of Dutch art, and was one of the most successful of the "Italianisers"; but neither of these pictures is a good or indeed a certain specimen. He was a poet and musician as well as a painter, and studied under Albert Dürer at Nuremberg. He afterwards visited Venice, whence he went to Jerusalem, returning by Rhodes to Rome. In 1522 he was made by his countryman, Pope Adrian VI., Keeper of the Art Collection of the Vatican. He afterwards returned to Utrecht, where he died a Canon of St. Mary's. He was the master of Anthony Mor.

722. A LADY'S PORTRAIT.

Unknown (German: 15th-16th century).

Formerly ascribed to Sigmund Holbein (1465-1540). A German housewife--with a characteristic mixture about her of sentimentality (for she holds a forget-me-not in her hand) and of austerity (for there is something forbidding, surely, in these terribly angular fingers of hers).

724. "OUR LADY OF THE SWALLOW."

Carlo Crivelli (Venetian: painted 1468-1493). See 602.

Full of the dainty detail which characterises the Venetian pictures of this time. Notice the fruit placed everywhere about the Virgin's throne; and above, the vases of flowers and the swallow--hence the name of the picture, "Madonna della Rondine." Notice also the beautiful dress patterns and the rich hanging brocades. The Virgin's dress is a lovely silk brocade, of a design which might well be copied for muslins and curtains. In this picture, however, "Crivelli's gift of characterisation has been overpowered by his interest in the accessories. St. Jerome, indeed, is a noble and dignified figure, but who could believe in the St. Sebastian? As a study of costume the figure is interesting, reproducing every detail with minute fidelity, and bringing before us the model of a well-dressed young man of Crivelli's time. But the features are of an ignoble type, and the attitude is suggestive only of self-conscious vanity. Instead of a devout attendant at the throne, we seem to get a dandy posing for the admiration of the spectator." The scenes of the predella, on the other hand, are full of animation, of feeling, and of force (Rushforth's Crivelli, p. 72). The picture is signed by Carolus Crivellus Miles, so that it is one of his later works. In the centre of the step is the escutcheon of the Odoni family, for whose chapel in the church of the Franciscans at Matelica the picture was painted.

726. CHRIST'S AGONY IN THE GARDEN.

Giovanni Bellini (Venetian: 1426-1516). See 189.

An early work of the master, painted probably about 1459 (nearly half a century earlier than the Doge's portrait, 189), but interesting as showing the advance made by him in landscape. "We see for the first time an attempt to render a particular effect of light, the first twilight picture with clouds rosy with the lingering gleams of sunset, and light shining from the sky on hill and town--the first in which a head is seen in shadow against a brilliant sky" (Monkhouse: The Italian Pre-Raphaelites, p. 73). "In the figures of the Apostles, especially in the one on the left, the repose of sleep is expressed in so admirable and convincing a manner, that it would be difficult to name a second painter of the quattro-cento who could compare with Bellini in this respect" (Richter). Nor is the advance one in the technique of art only. The picture is one of the earliest in which art made use of what Ruskin calls "the pathetic fallacy"--in which, that is, art represents nature as sympathising with human emotion. Bellini "called in nature," says Mr. Hodgson, R.A. (Magazine of Art, 1886, p 215), "to sympathise with human sorrows, or rather he was the first to point out that nature takes her colouring and her aspects from the conditions of our passions and sentiments.[173] That sombre sky, with its gleam along the horizon, that long dark hill, the wild plain over which the traitor and his accomplices are stealing, have exactly the aspect which they would present to one who stood there knowing that a horrible treason was going to be perpetrated." Compare, for this "pathetic fallacy" in painting, Titian's "Noli me tangere" (No. 270). Bellini's picture should be compared with Mantegna's of the same subject in an adjoining room (1417). Mantegna seizes only the sublimity of the idea of the Agony, Bellini's penetrating sympathy renders its infinite pathos. Mantegna's picture is in some technical respects the more accomplished; "but in all that concerns the imaginative conception of the subject, in the harmonising of all the accessories to produce a single profound impression on the emotions, above all in the large and reposeful spaciousness of the composition, Bellini is surely the more to be admired" (Roger Fry: Giovanni Bellini, p. 22). Both pictures may be profitably compared with Correggio's of the same subject, in which we are introduced to a new order of ideas (See notes on No. 76).

727. THE TRINITY.

Francesco Pesellino (Florentine: 1422-1457).

This accomplished master was called Pesellino to distinguish him from his grandfather Pesello, by whom he was brought up. He is "entitled to one of the highest places in the ranks of the Florentine School of the fifteenth century. His compositions are distinguished by their lively grace, and the beautiful and truthful expressions of the persons portrayed" (Kugler). In beauty of colour and dignity of design the work before us is his masterpiece. He was a pupil of Fra Filippo Lippi, and subsequently opened a workshop in Florence in partnership with a certain Piero di Lorenzo. He died at the early age of thirty-five, leaving a widow and several children in penury. His works are very rare. Two compartments of a predella by him are in the Accademia at Florence, a fourth being in the Louvre. The collection of Morelli (now in the Public Gallery of Bergamo) contains three charming little pictures by him, which strongly recall the style of Fra Filippo (Morelli's account of the painter is in his Roman Galleries, pp. 253-58). "In the Torrigiani Palace at Florence are two remarkable panels from cassoni, there ascribed to Gozzoli, but by modern criticism more justly to Pesellino; they bear out Vasari's remark as to this painter's skill in delineating animals" (Burton).

This picture is perhaps the finest version extant of the conventional Italian representation of the mystery of the Trinity. The Son on a crucifix is supported by the Father, whilst the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove hovers over the head of the Son. The head of the First Person of the Trinity is a very majestic conception. "In this face, so full of beauty and power, of intensity and calm, as well as the careful modelling of the pathetic figure of Christ upon the cross, Pesellino touches heights which Lippi could not reach; but in the charming cherubim and seraphim with which the severity of the subject is softened and decorated, and in the beauty of the colour (though that has suffered much) we may recognise the influence of his master. We have only to compare this picture with the representations of the same subject by Landini (580_a_) and Orcagna (570) to show how the power to render the most august subjects had been increased by progress in technical accomplishment and the liberation of the artist's imagination, even when the elements and arrangements of the composition remained virtually unchanged from the traditional type" (Monkhouse, In the National Gallery, p. 62). The picture is referred to by Vasari: "At Pistoja is a work by Pesello, representing the Trinity, with figures of San Zeno and San Jacopo" (ii. 115). On the suppression of the religious congregation to whom the church of the Holy Trinity at Pistoja belonged, the picture was sold, and passed into the collection of Mr. Young Ottley. The side panels referred to by Vasari are still in private collections.

728. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Beltraffio (Lombard: 1467-1516).

Giovanni Antonio Beltraffio came of a noble family in Milan (his epitaph is in the Brera) and filled public offices in his native town. He fell under the influence of Leonardo, and when that master settled at Milan, Beltraffio lodged in his house, and became his ardent disciple. "His most ambitious creation, where he lamentably fails, is the Louvre altar-piece, the redeeming features of which are the fine portraits of the Casio family, his friends and patrons. When he confined himself to portraiture he was often strikingly successful, and the older Milanese families still possess a number of ancestral portraits by him, some of which are of great charm. He seems to have become the pet artist of the society of his day, often painting the portraits of his friends in the guise of a St. Sebastian, or as Sta. Barbara. He accompanied Leonardo to Rome in 1514. Although not a great artist, and entirely lacking in imagination and dramatic power, he exhibits singular refinement. His cultured intellect enabled him to appreciate, and in a measure reflect, the fastidious spirit of his master. His works charm by their high finish, and by the absence of all vulgarity or display. His portraits do not reveal much penetration, and he never caught the subtleties of character or the intellectual qualities of his sitters" (Catalogue of the Burlington Fine Arts Club Exhibition, 1898, p. lviii.). His pictures are for the most part on a small scale. Good specimens are to be seen in the Morelli collection at Bergamo, and the Poldi-Pezzoli collection at Milan. To delineate the human figure on a large scale, or human passions, was not his forte; he succeeded better in expressing naïve innocence in children, and gentle grace in the Mother of God, or devoted women (Morelli's German Galleries, pp. 425-48; Roman Galleries, p. 163).

Of Beltraffio's powers in the respect last mentioned this charming picture is perhaps the best specimen extant. The child with its quaint belly-band, and still more the noble but slightly languishing grace of the mother, at once recall Leonardo.

729. THE ADORATION OF THE KINGS.

Vincenzo Foppa (Lombard: about 1425-1492).

Foppa--Il Vecchio as he is called, to distinguish him from a younger Foppa of the Brescian School[174]--is an important person in the history of art. Born at Brescia, but removing in early manhood to Milan, he "holds both in the School of Brescia, and especially in that of Milan, the same place that the mighty Mantegna does at Padua, and Cosimo Tura at Ferrara," representing that early period of development when force of character is more insisted on than beauty of expression. In relation to the Milanese, Foppa was the founder of the school which prevailed before and up to the time of Leonardo da Vinci. He was already an artist of repute in 1456, when he was employed to decorate the Medici Palace at Milan with frescoes. These works, and many others executed by him in Milan and the neighbourhood, have perished. His best remaining frescoes are those of the Four Fathers of the Church in S. Eustorgio at Milan. Foppa was also employed in Genoa and Savona. Late in life he returned to Brescia, where he received a renewed grant of citizenship, and a pension, and where also he died. Of his extant works, the earliest is a Crucifixion in the Bergamo gallery. This is dated 1456, and supports the statement of old writers that Foppa had studied under Squarcione at Padua. His latest work is the altar-piece, now in S. Maria di Castello at Savona. This belongs to the year 1490, and agrees in style with our National Gallery picture. Foppa is said to have written on perspective, and many painters of the Lombard School studied under him.

Traces of the older style of work, from which Foppa freed his school, may here be seen in the embossed ornaments in gilt stucco. Notice the daintiness of the picture throughout: the pretty flowers in the foreground, the splendid brocades of the kneeling king, the birds and weeds in the ruined stable. In the background are the star and city of Bethlehem. "The general effect is dark and heavy, relieved by an abundant use of red; the flesh tones, as usual, are of ashen hue. The Madonna is of Foppa's characteristic type, of solid build. It is interesting to find that there is little or no direct trace of Leonardesque influence, a fact which shows that Foppa was too advanced in years to modify perceptibly his style on the advent of the mighty Florentine in 1481" (Catalogue of the Burlington Fine Arts Club Exhibition, 1898, p. xxviii.).

732. A CANAL SCENE.

Aart van der Neer (Dutch: 1603-1677). See 152.

The figures in the picture are supposed to be by Lingelbach (see No. 837).

734. A MILANESE LAWYER.

Andrea Solario (Lombard: about 1460-1520).

Andrea belonged to an artist family, the Solari (of Solaro, a village near Saronna); one of his brothers, Christopher (nicknamed "Il Gobbo," the hunchback), was an architect and sculptor, and from him perhaps Andrea learnt his superb modelling of the head--a point which is conspicuous in this picture, and in which he surpassed all his contemporaries. His repute in his own time is attested by the journey he made to France in 1507. The Cardinal George of Amboise desired to entrust the decoration of a chapel to Leonardo; but Leonardo was too much taken up with hydraulic works at Milan to accept the commission, and the Cardinal's representative sent Andrea in the great man's place. It is not known with whom Solario studied painting, but his subject-pictures prove conclusively that he came within Leonardo's sphere of influence. "Although by birth and training a Lombard artist, Solario was so much in Venice that his native style was largely modified. There is no historical evidence that he ever met Antonello da Messina, but his works bear such close resemblance to that master's productions that it cannot be doubted they were acquainted. The portrait No. 923 is obviously Venetian in character; indeed, it passed not long since under Bellini's name. It seems unnecessary to suppose [with Morelli] that he paid a visit to Flanders. The Flemish traits so conspicuous in his work could well be derived from contact with Antonello. To the end of his life he painted with the utmost finish and delicacy. The brilliance and warmth of his colour compensate for the somewhat cold ivory pallor of his flesh tones. His landscapes are remarkably picturesque and full of incident. That behind the figure of Longono in the National Gallery portrait is of the greatest delicacy and charm" (Catalogue of the Burlington Fine Arts Club Exhibition, 1898, p. lxi. See also Morelli's German Galleries, pp. 63-68; Roman Galleries, pp. 170-176). Subject-pictures by Solario may be seen in the Brera and the Poldi-Pezzoli Gallery at Milan, and in the Louvre. His last work was a large "Assumption of the Virgin" for the Certosa of Pavia (now in the Sacristy), which his death prevented him from finishing.

A portrait (dated 1505) of the artist's friend, a Milanese lawyer, whose name, John Christopher Longono, is written on a letter in his right hand. He wears the gown and cap (not unlike that still worn by French "advocates") of his profession. Observe the landscape background--here quaintly peopled with prancing dogs and horses on the left, and servants in red pushing off boats on the right--with which the old painters, like some of our modern photographers, were fond of flattering their subjects. But in this case the subject is well entitled to his "setting," for he is a nobleman as well as a lawyer, and the background is perhaps studied from his country seat. On the bottom of the panel is a Latin inscription which, literally interpreted, runs, "Not knowing what you have been or what you may be, may it for long be your study to be able to see what you are," i.e. by looking at this picture of yourself--a neatly-turned compliment at once to the painter and his subject: the picture is to last for many a long year, and the lawyer for many a long year is to grow no older. Or is the inscription also meant to describe the lawyer's character in words, as the portrait does in colours--a man not troubled overmuch with what has been or what may be hereafter, but one who is keenly alive to what he is, and who pours all his powers into the tasks and interests of the present?

735. ST. ROCH WITH THE ANGEL.

Paolo Morando (Veronese: 1486-1522).

Paolo Morando, otherwise known as Cavazzola (his father was Taddeo Cavazzola di Jacobi di Morando), was a pupil of Morone (see 285). He "infused a higher life, and a fine system of colouring into the Veronese School, making thus a great advance upon his contemporaries, and preparing the way for Paul Veronese.... He shows, as Dr. Burckhardt has justly observed, 'a marvellous transition from the realism of the fifteenth century to the noble free character of the sixteenth, not to an empty idealism'" (Layard, i. 270). His masterpieces are still in his native Verona, and nowhere else, except in the National Gallery, can he be studied.

St. Roch is the patron of the sick and plague-stricken. The legend says that he left great riches to travel as a pilgrim to Rome, where he tended those sick of the plague, and by his intercession effected miraculous cures. Through many cities he laboured thus, until at last in Piacenza he became himself plague-stricken, and with a horrible ulcer in his thigh he was turned out into a lonely wood. He has here laid aside his pilgrim staff and hung his hat upon it, and prepared himself to die, when an angel appears to him and drops a fresh rose on his path. There is no rose without a thorn, and no thorn in a saint's crown without a rose. He bares his thigh to show his wound to the angel, who (says the legend) dressed it for him, whilst his little dog miraculously brought him every morning a loaf of bread.

736. A VENETIAN SENATOR.

Francesco Bonsignori (Veronese: 1455-1519).

Called incorrectly, by Vasari, Monsignori. He was born at Verona, where, in the churches of S. Fermo, S. Bernardino, S. Paolo, and in the Pinacoteca, works by him may be seen. In the grand but not always attractive productions of his earlier style, Bonsignori followed the traditions and manner of the Veronese School. Later in life he went to Mantua, where he settled and was influenced by Mantegna (see Morelli's German Galleries, p. 103, note).

A portrait--remarkable for vigorous execution, and strong individuality--of a senator, from the life, "in his habit as he stood,"--a branch of art in which this painter excelled. He has been called indeed "the modern Zeuxis," after the famous Greek painter whose painted grapes deceived the birds. For so lifelike were Bonsignori's pictures--says Vasari in his entertaining account of this painter--that on one occasion a dog rushed at a painted dog on the artist's canvas, whilst on another a bird flew forward to perch itself on the extended arm of a painted child. The portrait before us is executed in tempera. The study in chalk, for it is in the Albertina collection at Vienna.

737. A WATERFALL.

Ruysdael (Dutch: 1628-1682). See 627.

739. THE ANNUNCIATION.

Carlo Crivelli (Venetian: painted 1468-1493). See 602.

Mary is kneeling in her chamber; while a golden ray from a glory above, piercing the house wall, has struck her head, over which is hovering a dove, the symbol of the Holy Spirit. The angel of the Annunciation is outside in the court, but she cannot see him, for a wall stands between them--"a treatment of the subject which may be intended to suggest that the angel appeared to her in a dream." It also gives the painter an opportunity for introducing an additional display of incident and ornament. Beside the angel is St. Emidius, the patron saint of Ascoli, with a model of the city in his hand. "There could not be better examples of what we may call Crivelli's 'exquisite' style, which is only just saved by its refinement from mere prettiness and affectation. This angel is a poseur if ever there was one." The picture is very characteristic, in two features, of mediæval art. First, it was never antiquarian: it did not attempt to give a correct historical setting (cf. under 294). No mediæval painter made the Virgin a Jewess; they nationalised her, as it were, and painted her in the likeness of their own maidens. So too their scenery was the likeness of their own homes and their own country. Here, for instance, is a picture of an Italian city in gala attire, somewhat idealised, no doubt, in splendour, but otherwise a "perfectly true representation of what the architecture of Italy was in her glorious time; trim, dainty,--red and white like the blossom of a carnation,--touched with gold like a peacock's plumes, and frescoed, even to its chimney-pots, with fairest arabesques,--its inhabitants, and it together, one harmony of work and life" (Guide to the Venetian Academy, p. 21). And secondly, the picture shows the pleasure the painters took in their accessories, and the frank humour--free at once from irreverence and from gloom--with which the Venetians especially approached what was to them a religion of daily life. Notice especially the little girl at the top of the steps on the left, looking round the corner. The whole of this side of the picture shows a naturalistic treatment which forms "a curious accompaniment and contrast to Crivelli's ordinary conventional manner. The group talking with a friar at the house door, the citizen who passes along bent on business, the dandy who shades his eyes from the sun and looks up at the house, the figures on the arch, and the people walking in the open space by the town walls beyond, make up a picture of real life unequalled among Crivelli's works" (Rushworth's Crivelli, p. 63). As a representation of the "Annunciation," the picture should be compared and contrasted with Lippi's (666). The Madonna and the Angel, "though essential to the work from the point of view of the patrons, who commissioned it, were merely its occasion from the point of view of that extraordinarily painstaking and detail-loving creature, its painter. There is endless profusion of decorative work; elaborate arabesques on the pilasters of the Madonna's lordly house, elaborate capitals, elaborate loggias, an elaborate cornice. The grain of the wood on her reading-desk is carefully painted; so are the planks in the wall of her bedchamber.... Besides the endless interest of its decorative work, this picture is useful as marking the difference between the spiritual and ideal motives which dominated Florence, and the worldly motives of richness and splendour which dominated Venice. Compare its purely adventitious detail with the poetical background of Filippo Lippi. In the Florentine, the detail is there for the sake of the picture; in the Venetian, the picture is there for the sake of the detail" (Grant Allen, in the Pall Mall Magazine, July 1895). See under 1139 for further notes on the subject.

The picture is signed and dated, 1486, at the bottom of the pilasters of the Virgin's chamber. On the face of the step below is an inscription between three coats of arms (the Bishop's, the Pope's, and the town's)--Libertas Ecclesiastica, which is of some historical interest. In the year 1482 the city of Ascoli came to an agreement with the Pope, whereby, in return for an annual tribute and the acknowledgment of his suzerainty, the Pope issued a Bull in favour of its citizens, conferring on them municipal Home Rule. A new phrase--Libertas Ecclesiastica, Independence under the Church--was invented to describe the new settlement. The arrival of the Charter on March 25, the Feast of the Annunciation, was celebrated henceforth by ceremonies on that day, in which a procession to the church of the Annunziata was a prominent feature. Our picture was painted for that church, where it remained until 1790.

740. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Sassoferrato (Eclectic: 1605-1685). See 200.

741. THE DEAD ORLANDO.

Ascribed to Velazquez.[175] See under 197.

The closing scene, according to one of the many legends, in the history of that "peerless paladin," Orlando, or Roland, who was slain at the battle of Roncesvalles, when returning from Charlemagne's expedition against the Saracens in Spain. Invulnerable to the sword, he was squeezed to death by Bernardo del Carpio. He lies, therefore, prostrate, but fully dressed and armed, his right hand resting on his chest, his left on the hilt of his famous sword. Over the dead man's feet there hangs from a branch a small brass lamp, the flame of which, like the hero's life, has just expired. On either side are the skulls and bones of other "paladins and peers who on Roncesvalles died."

742. PORTRAIT OF A LAWYER.

Moroni (Bergamese: 1525-1578). See 697.

An excellent example of the painter's third or naturalistic manner. There is an ease of attitude and an absence of constraint which makes the portrait transparently natural.

744. THE "GARVAGH MADONNA."

Raphael (Umbrian: 1483-1520). See 1171.

This picture--known as the "Garvagh Madonna," from its former owner, Lord Garvagh, or the "Aldobrandini Madonna," from having originally belonged to the Aldobrandini apartments of the Borghese Palace at Rome--belongs to Raphael's third or Roman period, and a comparison with the "Ansidei" shows the changes in feeling between the painter's earlier and later manners. The devotional character of the Umbrian School is less marked. In the "Ansidei Madonna" the divinity of the Virgin is insisted on; and above her throne is the inscription "Hail, Mother of Christ." But here the divinity is only dimly indicated by a halo. And as the Madonna is here a merely human mother, so is the child a purely human child. The saints in contemplation of the "Ansidei" are replaced by a little St. John, and the two children play with a pink. The expressions of the children, as indeed the whole picture, are full of sweetness and beauty.[176] Very beautiful too is the pyramidal composition of the group. Of the ultimate significance of the change marked by Raphael's third manner, Ruskin says that it--

"Was all the more fatal because at first veiled by an appearance of greater dignity and sincerity than were possessed by the older art. One of the earliest results of the new knowledge was the putting away the greater part of the unlikelihoods and fineries of the ancient pictures, and an apparently closer following of nature and probability. The appearances of nature were more closely followed in everything; and the crowned Queen-Virgin of Perugino sank into a simple Italian mother in Raphael's 'Madonna of the Chair.' ... But the glittering childishness of the old art was rejected, not because it was false, but because it was easy; and, still more, because the painter had no longer any religious passion to express. He could think of the Madonna now very calmly, with no desire to pour out the treasures of earth at her feet, or cover her brows with the golden shafts of heaven. He could think of her as an available subject for the display of transparent shadows, skilful tints, and scientific foreshortenings,--as a fair woman, forming, if well painted, a pleasant piece of furniture for the corner of a boudoir, and best imagined by combination of the beauties of the prettiest contadinas"[177] (Modern Painters, vol. iii. pt. iv. ch. iv. §§ 12, 13).

It should, however, be remembered that the "Madonna di San Sisto," perhaps the most spiritual of all Raphael's conceptions, was the latest of the series.

745. KING PHILIP IV. OF SPAIN.

Velazquez (Spanish: 1599-1660). See 197.

Few kings have left so many enduring monuments of themselves as Philip IV., whose face figures twice on these walls and meets one in nearly every European gallery. But nowhere, perhaps, has it been more supremely rendered than on this canvas, where the king seems to live and move before us. The picture is "perhaps the finest example of oil-painting accessible to the British student. Though one of the later works of the master, it is constructed out of a carefully wrought and smooth impasto, without any 'bravura' strokes. The lights are nowhere loaded. The hair is painted, not modelled; the jewels on the dress are easily touched in without relief-effect or juggling. The wonder of the thing is the infinite variety over a surface so simply treated. The face is in such broad, even light that one has to adopt some device which brings it freshly into the field of vision--as by turning the head down or looking at it through the hand--in order to see how firm is the modelling. The flesh-tints are simple enough. Yet take almost any square inch of surface on the face--say the upper lip with its moustache--and note the effect of each one of the free brush-strokes which draw the pale, umber hair over the warm rubbing on the flesh; or in the cold, lack-lustre, blue eye, measure the apparent ease of the touches against their firm, incisive clearness. Everything is there--form, expression--in a word, the life; but it has all grown into perfection on the canvas so quietly, so smoothly, as if Velazquez had indeed painted with the will only and not with the hand" (Baldwin Brown: The Fine Arts, p. 319). "Velazquez fuses his colours in a way that baffles painters. They melt into each other by imperceptible gradations, as he deals with plane after plane in his subtly-modelled faces. Observe the action of light on the pallid face of the worn-out king, giving to the skin the breath of life in its delicate transparency" (Quarterly Review, April 1899).

The face is one which, once seen, is not soon forgotten. Velazquez, as we have said, caught its expression at once, and by comparing the face in its youth (1129) with its middle age here, one can almost trace the king's career. In youth we see him cold and phlegmatic, but slender in figure graceful and dignified in bearing, and with a fine open forehead. But the young king was bent on ease and pleasure, and his minister Olivares did nothing to persuade him into more active kingship. The less pleasing traits in his character have, in consequence, come to be deeper impressed at the time of this later portrait. He was devoted to sport, and the cruelty of the Spaniard is conspicuous in the lip--more underhung now than before. In the growth of the double chin and yet greater impassiveness of expression, one may see the traces of that "talent for dead silence and marble immobility" which, says the historian, "he so highly improved that he could sit out a comedy without stirring hand or foot, and conduct an audience without movement of a muscle, except those in his lips and tongue." It is not the face of a great ruler; but it is one which rightly lives on a painter's canvas, for no king was ever at once so liberal and so enlightened a patron of the arts as he. Himself too he was something of an artist; and the best-known piece of his painting tells a pretty story, which it is pleasant to remember in front of Velazquez's portraits of him. Velazquez painted once his own portrait in the background of the king's family (the "Maids of Honour"--Las Meninas--now at Madrid). "Is there anything wrong with it?" Velazquez asked. "Yes," said the king, taking the palette in his hand, "just this"--and he sketched in on the painter's portrait the coveted red cross of the order of Santiago. "In all his portraits Philip wears the golilla, a stiff linen collar projecting at right angles from the neck. It was invented by the king, who was very proud of it. In regard to the wonderful structure of Philip's moustaches, it is said that, to preserve their form, they were encased during the night in perfumed leather covers called bigoteras" (J. F. White, in Encyclopædia Britannica).

746. A LANDSCAPE WITH RUINS.

Ruysdael (Dutch: 1628-1682). See 627.

This picture is signed and dated 1673.

747. ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST AND ST. LAWRENCE.

Ascribed to Hans Memlinc. See 686.

St. Lawrence may nearly always be distinguished by his gridiron--the emblem of his martyrdom. He was a pious deacon of the Christian Church, who was put to death by the Romans. A new kind of torture was, says the legend, prepared for him. He was stretched on a sort of bed, formed of iron bars in the manner of a gridiron, and was roasted alive. "But so great was his constancy that in the middle of his torments he said, 'Seest thou not, O thou foolish man, that I am already roasted on one side, and that, if thou wouldst have me well cooked, it is time to turn me on the other?' Then St. Lawrence lifted up his eyes, and his pure and invincible spirit fled to heaven."

748. MADONNA AND CHILD, WITH ST. ANNE.

Girolamo dai Libri (Veronese: 1474-1556).

Girolamo inherited his surname ("of the books") from the occupation of his father, who was an illuminator of manuscripts. Girolamo himself excelled in this branch of art, but he also became famous as a painter of altar-pieces. He had "a playful fancy, and loved to introduce into his pictures festoons of flowers and fruit, trees of rich green foliage bearing lemons and oranges, and angels singing and playing on musical instruments. He was a true Veronese in his feeling for colour, which in his works is always rich and gay. In his backgrounds are frequently seen distant views of his native city, with her castellated hills and blue mountains" (Layard, i. 269). Girolamo, whose friendship with Francesco Morone (285) is on record, was born in Verona, and it is there that many of his principal works are preserved. In the Pinacoteca are several charming pictures, and there also is a collection of Girolamo's missals. In S. Giorgio Maggiore is a "Madonna Enthroned," dated 1526, which is by many considered the painter's masterpiece. The German artist Ludwig Richter,[178] thus records (in his Lebenserinnerungen) the impression it made upon him:--"I thought that I had scarcely ever seen anything so beautiful and touching. The picture was by Girolamo dai Libri, an old master of whom until then I had never heard, nor, indeed, have I seen any other picture by him since. Here it was that there first arose in me a suspicion of what a depth of spiritual life, and of the heavenly beauty that is born of it, lay in the masters of the pre-Raphaelite period. The master's way of seeing and feeling, his style--and the style is the man--impressed me deeply and permanently, touched me sympathetically. In fact this dear old painter became veritably my patron saint, for he it was who first opened to me the gates of the inner sanctuary of Art" (quoted by Dr. Richter, in the Art Journal, February, 1895).

A picture "with a pedigree," being mentioned by Vasari. "In the church of the Scala (at Verona)," he says, in his life of the painter, "the picture of the Madonna with St. Anna is by his hand, and is placed between the San Sebastiano of Il Moro and the San Rocco of Cavazzola (Morando)." The latter picture (735) and Girolamo's now hang on the same wall of our Gallery. In the composition of this picture one may trace, perhaps, the influence of the dainty work Girolamo was first accustomed to. Thus the trefoil, or cloverleaf pattern, is followed both in the arrangement of the Virgin, St. Anne, and the Child, and in that of the little playing angels below. Notice the pretty trellis-work of roses on either side, and the slain dragon at the Virgin's feet, emblematic (the latter) of Christ's victory over the powers of evil, and (the former) of the "ways of pleasantness" and "paths of peace" that he came to prepare.

749. THE GIUSTI FAMILY OF VERONA.

Niccolo Giolfino (Veronese: painted 1486-1518).

Little is known of this painter except that he was a friend of Mantegna. The façade of his house at Verona was painted with frescoes, the upper part by Mantegna, the lower by Giolfino himself. He was probably a scholar of Liberale, to whose altar-piece in the cathedral at Verona he added the wings. One of his best works is a large altar-piece in S. Anastasia in that city.

Two groups of family portraits, chiefly interesting for studies in costume, originally in one picture, which formed the predella of an altar-piece: hence the upward look of some of the faces.

750. THE DOGE GIOVANNI MOCENIGO.

Lazzaro Bastiani (Venetian: about 1425-1512). See also (p. xx)

This picture was, until recently, ascribed to Carpaccio, of whom, therefore, some account is here retained. It was once inscribed with Carpaccio's name and the date 1479, but these, having been shown to be false, were removed. The work is now attributed, in accordance with the conclusions reached by Signor Molmenti and Dr. Ludwig[179] to Bastiani.

Lazzaro Bastiani was for many years the victim of one of Vasari's confusions. Carpaccio, we are told by that authority, "taught his art to two of his brothers, both of whom imitated him closely; one of these was called Lazzaro, the other Sebastiano." No such painters existed; but the name of Lazzaro Bastiani is on record as that of a painter already at work in 1449. The presumption is, therefore, that he was not taught by, but the master of, Carpaccio, by which latter painter there is no dated work before 1490. Numerous records of later works by Bastiani from 1449 onwards have been discovered; and there is a public document of December 11, 1508, in which Bastiani and Carpaccio were appointed to value the frescoes executed by Giorgione on the Fondaco dei Tedeschi. Our picture, hitherto supposed to be an early work of Carpaccio, should be compared with the signed and dated (1484) work of Bastiani in the Duomo of Murano, representing a Canon kneeling before the Virgin. Other pictures by him are in the Academies of Vienna and Venice respectively.

Various technical similarities between the work of Bastiani and Carpaccio are pointed out by Sig. Molmenti and Dr. Ludwig, but Bastiani's pictures lack the charm and gaiety of Carpaccio and his chief claim to fame is that which the critics now award him of having been the master of that great painter.

The works of Vittore Carpaccio (about 1450-1522) have of recent years attracted great attention owing to the prominence given to them by Ruskin in all his writings since 1870. Of "The Presentation" in the Venetian Academy (dated 1510) he says: "You may measure yourself, outside and in,--your religion, your taste, your knowledge of art, your knowledge of men and things,--by the quantity of admiration which honestly, after due time given, you can feel for this picture. You are not required to think the Madonna pretty, or to receive the same religious delight from the conception of the scene which you would rightly receive from Angelico, Filippo Lippi, or Perugino. This is essentially Venetian,--prosaic, matter of fact,--retaining its supreme common-sense through all enthusiasm. Nor are you required to think this a first-rate work in Venetian colour. This is the best picture in the Academy, precisely because it is not the best piece of colour there;--because the great master has subdued his own main passion, and restrained his colour-faculty, though the best in Venice, that you might not say the moment you came before the picture, as you do of the Paris Bordone, 'What a piece of colour!' Carpaccio does not want you to think of his colour, but of your Christ.... If you begin really to feel the picture, observe that its supreme merit is in the exactly just balance of all virtue;--detail perfect, yet inconspicuous; composition intricate and severe, but concealed under apparent simplicity; and painter's faculty of the supremest, used nevertheless with entire subjection of it to intellectual purpose." Other powers of Carpaccio are better seen in the St. Ursula Series, also in the Venetian Academy, and since Ruskin's day honourably hung. "They are," says Layard, "masterly works, rich in all that gives value and grandeur to historical art. The rather monotonous history which forms the groundwork of many of them is throughout varied and elevated by a free style of grouping and by happy moral allusions. The colours, notwithstanding injudicious cleanings and restorations, still shine with the purest light. The variety of expression, always lifelike, in the many figures, their beautiful and simple action, and the admirable dramatic representation of the different incidents connected with the story, give these pictures an inexpressible charm. The subject of the dream of the young St. Ursula, in bed in her chamber, with her table and an open book upon it and her vase of flowers, has a purity and simplicity quite unique" (i. 320). These pictures were painted 1490-5. Of later date (1502-1511) is the series in the little church of S. Giorgio degli Schiavoni. They are full of the charm of picturesque reality, the wealth of rich and quaint accessories, the playful fancy and penetrative imagination, which characterise Carpaccio. Occasional works by him are to be seen in various continental galleries (e.g. Milan and Ferrara); but it is only in Venice that any adequate conception of him can be formed. Of his life little is known. He was born either in one of the Venetian islands, or in Istria. He generally signed himself "Victor Carpathius." Vasari calls him Scarpaccia; in old Venetian documents, he is Scarpaza. "He was associated with Gentile Bellini in executing the historical paintings for the Hall of the Great Council in the Ducal Palace, and it has been thought possible that he accompanied Gentile to Constantinople as an assistant. The minute knowledge of Oriental customs and costumes which his works display suggests that he had visited the East, and even those parts of it which were then still under the sway of the Sultans of Egypt" (Burton). Ruskin's criticisms, and descriptions of his principal pictures, will be found in his Guide to the Academy at Venice, St. Mark's Rest (Supplements), and Fors Clavigera, 1872, xx.; 1873, xxvi.; 1876, pp. 329, 340, 357, 381; 1877, p. 26; 1878, p. 182. An earlier reference is in the Oxford Lectures on Art, § 73. Copies from some of Carpaccio's "Schiavoni" pictures are in the Arundel Society's Collection. Copies of the "Ursula" series and other pictures made for Ruskin are in the St. George's Museum at Sheffield.

This is a votive picture commissioned by Giovanni Mocenigo (who reigned over Venice 1477-1485), to be presented by him, according to the custom with reigning doges, to the Ducal Palace. The scene selected represents the doge kneeling before the Virgin and begging her protection on the occasion of the plague of 1478. The gold vase on the altar before the throne contains medicaments, for which, according to the inscription below, a blessing is invoked: "Celestial Virgin, preserve the City and Republic of Venice and the Venetian State, and extend your protection to me if I deserve it." Behind the doge is his patron saint St. John, on the opposite side is St. Christopher. The setting thus chosen for the doge's picture is characteristic. "The first step towards the ennobling of any face is the ridding it of its vanity; to which aim there cannot be anything more contrary than that principle of portraiture which prevails with us in these days, whose end seems to be the expression of vanity throughout, in face and in all circumstances of accompaniment; tending constantly to insolence of attitude, and levity and haughtiness of expression, and worked out further in mean accompaniments of worldly splendour and possession; together with hints or proclamations of what the person has done or supposes himself to have done, which, if known, it is gratuitous in the portrait to exhibit, and, if unknown, it is insolent to proclaim.... To which practices are to be opposed ... the mighty and simple modesty of ... Venice, where we find the ... doges not set forth with thrones and curtains of state, but kneeling, always crownless, and returning thanks to God for his help; or as priests, interceding for the nation in its affliction" (Modern Painters, vol. ii. pt. iii. sec. i. ch. xiv. § 19). The picture was bought in 1865 from the Doge's descendant, Aloise Count Mocenigo di Sant' Eustachio.

751. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Giovanni Santi (Umbrian: about 1440-1494).

This picture is of peculiar interest because it is by Raphael's father. It does not, however, give a full idea of the extent to which Raphael's talent was hereditary, for Giovanni's easel pictures, such as this, are inferior to his wall pictures. The young Raphael had all the advantages of an atmosphere of artistic culture. Giovanni, like his father before him, was a well-to-do burgher, and kept originally a general retail shop, but he afterwards--under the teaching, it is thought, of Melozzo da Forli--took to painting, and his house, if one may judge from Piero della Francesca's visit in 1467, was a resort of painters. At the brilliant court of Duke Federigo of Urbino, Giovanni moreover acquired a taste for literature, and there is a long rhyming chronicle by him extant in which he describes the Duke's visit to Mantua, and amongst other things praises greatly the works of Mantegna, Melozzo, and Piero della Francesca. But to see how much of Raphael's genius was original, one has only to compare this picture by the father with one (say 744) by the son. Giovanni's female heads are not without a mild dignity of their own; but his works lack the soft grace and winning charm that distinguish his son's.

"Worth study, in spite of what critics say of its crudity. Concede its immaturity, at least, though an immaturity visibly susceptible of a delicate grace, it wins you nevertheless to return again and again, and ponder, by a sincere expression of sorrow, profound, yet resigned, be the cause what it may, among all the causes of sorrow inherent in the ideal of maternity, human or divine. But if you keep in mind, when looking at it, the facts of Raphael's childhood,[180] you will recognise in his father's picture, not the anticipated sorrow of the Mater Dolorosa over the dead son, but the grief of a simple household over the mother herself taken early from it. This may have been the first picture the eyes of the world's great painter of Madonnas rested on; and if he stood diligently before it to copy, and so copying, quite unconsciously, and with no disloyalty to his original, refined, improved, substituted,--substituted himself, in fact, his finer self--he had already struck the persistent note of his career" (Pater: Miscellaneous Studies, p. 32).

752. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Lippo Dalmasii (Bolognese: painted 1376-1410). See also (p. xx)

A picture by a Bolognese artist, of the Giottesque period, Lippo, son of Dalmasius, called also "Lippo of the Madonna," from the many pictures like this he painted: no Bolognese gentleman's family, we are told, was considered complete without one.

753. ON THE ROAD TO EMMAUS.

Altobello Melone (Cremonese: painted about 1500).

There was no native and independent school of Cremona. Melone was a pupil of Romanino at Brescia. He painted some of the frescoes in the nave of Cremona Cathedral.

Two of Christ's disciples are walking after his death and burial to Emmaus. The risen Christ "drew near, and went with them. But their eyes were holden, that they should not know him" (Luke xxiv. 16). The painter makes excuses for the disciples not recognising their Master by naïvely dressing Him as a tourist with an alpenstock.

755. RHETORIC.} 756. MUSIC. }

Melozzo da Forli (Umbrian: 1438-1494).

Melozzo, born at Forli in the Romagna, near Ravenna, is classed with the Umbrian School, both because he studied (it is believed) under Piero della Francesca, and because he worked at Urbino. Giovanni Santi, who was his friend, especially praises Melozzo, "to me so dear," for his skill in perspective; and, like many other artists of these times, he was an architect as well as a painter. In 1472 he was in Rome; he was one of the original members of the Roman Academy of St. Luke, founded by Sixtus IV., and in the book of the Academy he signs his name as "Painter to the Pope." Some of his Roman frescoes are preserved. In the Vatican gallery is a fresco transferred to canvas, commemorating the restoration of the Vatican Library and containing many portraits. This work has been published by the Arundel Society, but Melozzo is more widely known by the figures of angels playing on musical instruments, now in the sacristy of St. Peter's, which have been published by the same Society. These grand figures of youths with abundant flowing hair are "among the most beautiful and masterful creations of the Renaissance spirit, caught up, it would seem, into a certain ecstasy and rapture of divine things." Portions of a fresco, painted for SS. Apostoli, representing the Ascension of our Lord, are now on the staircase of the Quirinal Palace. The work was "one of the most grand and daring feats of foreshadowing that art has bequeathed, and may be considered as the first illustration of that science which Mantegna and Correggio further developed" (Kugler). In this connection we may notice in our pictures that "the steps and the figures thereon are drawn in perspective, as if they were real objects seen from below; they present the earliest example the Gallery possesses of this kind of perspective illusion, which was practised with great success by Mantegna, and carried out on the grandest scale by Michael Angelo in the ceiling of the Sistine chapel" (Monkhouse, In the National Gallery, p. 115). About the year 1480 Melozzo went to Urbino, where he executed the work described below. In Forli itself a few frescoes by Melozzo survive. In the British Museum there are some drawings by this rare master.

These pictures are two of a series of seven, which were painted for the good Duke Frederick to decorate the library of the Ducal Palace at Urbino. The words on the frieze above our pictures are portions of a running inscription describing the Duke's style and titles. He was created "Gonfaloniere of the Church" (756) in 1465 and "Duke of Urbino" (755) in 1474. The series represented symbolically the seven arts--grammar, rhetoric, logic, arithmetic, music, geometry, and astronomy--which, until the close of the Middle Ages, formed the curriculum of a liberal education. Notice in both pictures that the figures of the learners are kneeling--an attitude symbolical of the spirit of reverence and humility which distinguishes the true scholar ("I prayed, and the spirit of wisdom came upon me"); whilst the figures representing the sciences to be learned are seated on thrones--symbolical of the true kingship that consists in knowledge ("And I set her before kingdoms and thrones"), and are clothed about with pearls and other precious stones ("She is more precious than rubies").

In the picture of Rhetoric (755) the youth is being taught not to speak, but to read--"You must not speak," the Queen of Rhetoric seems to tell him, "until you have something to say." Notice, too, that Rhetoric is robed in cold gray. "You think Rhetoric should be glowing, fervid, impetuous? No. Above all things,--cool."

But Music (756) is robed in bright red, the colour of delight. The book now is closed. "After learning to reason, you will learn to sing; for you will want to. There is so much reason for singing in this sweet world, when one thinks rightly of it." Music points her scholar to a small organ--"not that you are never to sing anything but hymns, but that whatever is rightly called music, or work of the Muses, is divine in help and healing" (Mornings in Florence, v. 128, 134). Hanging from the wall on the left, almost above the scholar's head, is a sprig of bay, the Muses' crown. Other pictures of this same series are in the gallery at Berlin and in the Royal Collection at Windsor. The latter is of peculiar interest in the history of the Renaissance. It shows the Duke, his son and the Court, and a black-robed humanist, seated in a sort of pulpit--"the unique representation of a scene of frequent occurrence in the Courts of Italy, where listening to lectures formed a part of every day's occupation" (see the description in Symonds, ii. p. 221).

757. CHRIST BLESSING LITTLE CHILDREN.

Unknown (Dutch: School of Rembrandt).

This is one of the nation's conspicuously bad bargains. It was bought in 1866 as a Rembrandt and at a Rembrandt price (£7000), but was soon recognised as being only a work by some pupil. It is easy to be wise after the event, but it certainly seems strange that the connoisseurs of the time, even if technical differences had escaped them, should not have seen a lack of Rembrandt's power about this work. A writer in the Times (June 24, 1888) has no hesitation in ascribing the picture to Nicolas Maes. He says: "If it was painted by Maes it would probably have been after the series of small works, mostly dating about 1656. Maes was a pupil of Rembrandt in 1650, at the time when the master's treatment of sacred subjects was more direct than in his earlier years. In this picture fanciful costume is discarded, and the figures are painted straight from the life. The figure of Christ is, indeed, weak and conventional, but it is not to be expected that a young man would here be successful in a figure so foreign to his general practice; and, if we admit the supposition that the composition followed the small panels, the relaxation of style pervading the entire work tallies with the known facts of the career of Maes, who between 1660 and 1670 appears to have devoted himself almost entirely to portrait painting; these representations of Dutch and Antwerp burghers, though solid and respectable, possess none of the charm and interest of the earlier works owing their inspiration to the direct influence of Rembrandt." (See, for instance, No. 1277.) Some ascribe the picture with equal assurance to Lievens (see 1095); see an article by Ford Madox Brown in the Magazine of Art, Feb. 1890; others to Eeckhout (see The Athenæum, Jan. 19, 1907).

758. PORTRAIT OF THE COUNTESS PALMA OF URBINO.

Piero della Francesca (Umbrian: 1416-1492). See 665.

Ascribed by Morelli to Paolo Uccello. "The treatment of the hair recalls that of one of the portraits in Paolo's battle-piece (583), while Piero used to represent curls in a thin and thread-like shape. The ornament on the left sleeve of the lady also reminds one of the decoration on the standard" (Richter's Italian Art in the National Gallery, p. 17). "Of purely Florentine origin, and with its hardness of outline and modelling, and its severity of aspect, resembles a Pesellino writ large" (Claude Phillips in the Academy, Sept. 28, 1889).

This and the other profile head once ascribed to Piero (585) "are probably the earliest specimens we have in the National Gallery of pure portraits, i.e. pictures devoted simply to record the likeness of an individual, first introduced as donors into votive pictures, and next as actors in scenes from sacred history and legend. Portraits have at length made good their claim to a separate existence in pictorial art" (Monkhouse: The Italian Pre-Raphaelites, p. 41). To Piero della Francesca also we owe "most precious portraits (at Rimini and in the Uffizi) of two Italian princes, Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta and Federigo of Urbino, masterpieces of fidelity to nature and sound workmanship" (Symonds).

766, 767. HEADS OF SAINTS.

Domenico Veneziano (died 1461).

Though Domenico describes himself as Venetian (as on the signature to 1215), he worked at Perugia and Florence, and his works belie any connection with Venetian art. Between 1439 and 1445 he was engaged in the church of S. Maria Nuova, in which work he was assisted by his pupil Piero della Francesca. These pictures have perished. The works by his hand we possess give no evidence of his being an oil painter, but he is known to have used oil, and indeed was celebrated as one of the earliest Italian painters in that medium. Vasari's story about Andrea del Castagno's jealousy, and his murder of Domenico in consequence, is disproved by documentary evidence showing that Domenico survived his alleged murderer by five years. Domenico's only known works, now extant, are an altar-piece in the Uffizi and the work described below.

These heads are from the niche or tabernacle which contained the Madonna and Child, No. 1215. The work was executed for the Canto (street corner) de' Carnesecchi in Florence. It is thus referred to by Vasari:--

Being invited to Florence, the first thing Domenico did was to paint a tabernacle in fresco, at the corner of the Carnesecchi, in the angle of the two roads, leading, the one to the new, the other to the old Piazza of Santa Maria Novella. The subject of this work is a Virgin surrounded by various saints, and as it pleased the Florentines greatly and was much commended by the artists of the time, as well as by the citizens, this picture awakened bitter rage and envy against poor Domenico in the ill-regulated mind of Andrea (ii. 99--here follows Vasari's rattling and reckless story of Domenico's murder by the jealous Andrea del Castagno).

For centuries Domenico's work was exposed to wind and weather. The heads, Nos. 766, 767, passed into the possession of Sir Charles Eastlake, from whose collection they were purchased for the National Gallery in 1867. The central fresco (No. 1215) was in 1851 detached from the wall and badly restored. It was subsequently acquired by Lord Lindsay, the author of Sketches of the History of Christian Art, whose son, James, Earl of Crawford and Balcarres, presented it to the nation in 1886.

768. ST. PETER AND ST. JEROME.

Antonio Vivarini (Venetian: died 1470).

Antonio da Murano, called also Antonio Vivarini, was the eldest of a family of painters, who played a part in the development of the Venetian School corresponding to that of Giotto and his circle in the Florentine School. The Venetian is, it will be seen, a century later than the Florentine (cf. Introduction). It was at the adjacent island of Murano (where most of the Venetian glass is now made, and which was once the resort of the wealthier Venetian citizens) that an independent school first developed itself, Antonio and his brother Bartolommeo (see 284) being natives of that place. The work of the Vivarini was to impart a distinctively artistic impulse to the conventional craftsmanship which previously prevailed in Venice in accordance with Byzantine traditions. Recently published documents (dated 1272) give a curious insight into the position and work of the earliest Venetian painters (see Richter's Lectures on the National Gallery, pp. 23-29). They were treated merely as artisans. They were engaged for the most part in work which would now be classed as industrial craftsmanship in painting arms and furniture. Paintings, in our sense of the word, were an unimportant and occasional branch of their work. The division of labour which in our own day is a frequent cause of industrial disputes (as, for instance, between builders and plasterers) was then in dispute between painters and gilders. A recorded case was settled as follows: "We judge it just to permit the gilder to use colour, and the painter to use gilding, when the one or the other plays a subordinate part in the finished work. A decision in the opposite sense would seem to us hard; for it would be inconvenient to decree that a work which can be done by one, must be done by two. Thus, though each litigant loses, each is compensated for his loss. The profession of the gilder is gilding, but painting is permitted as an accessory. In like manner painting is the profession of the painter, but gilding is permitted as an accessory." In this picture, St. Peter's key is, it will be seen, embossed in goldsmiths' fashion, and Bartolommeo's picture has a gold background. Antonio Vivarini first worked in partnership with a certain Zuan (Giovanni), who appears to have been a German by birth, and the visitor will notice between the work of the early Venetian School a certain affinity with the contemporary German work of the Cologne School. After 1450 the name of Johannes the German disappears from the inscriptions on Vivarini altar-pieces, and that of Bartolommeo takes its place.

769. ST. MICHAEL AND THE DRAGON.

(Umbrian: 1416-1492). See 665.

Formerly ascribed to Fra Carnovale (Bartolommeo Corradini); but between Piero della Francesca's angels in 908 and the figure of St. Michael here there is a close resemblance, which seems to identify the picture as his.

St. Michael, the angel of war against the dragon of sin, stands triumphant over his foe--emblem of the final triumph of the spiritual over the animal and earthly part of our nature. It is the most universal of all symbols. The victor is different in different ages, but the enemy is always the same crawling reptile. Christian art, from its earliest times, has thus interpreted the text, "The dragon shalt thou trample under feet" (Psalm xci. 13); and in illustrations of Hindoo mythology Vishnu suffering is folded in the coils of a serpent, whilst Vishnu triumphant stands like St. Michael, with his foot upon the defeated monster.

770. LEONELLO D'ESTE.

Giovanni Oriolo (Ferrarese: painted about 1450).

Of Oriolo nothing is known. He was probably by birth a Ferrarese, and was evidently a pupil of Pisano (see 776).

Leonello (of whom also there is a medallion portrait in the frame of the picture just referred to), of the house of Este, was Marquis of Ferrara, 1441-1450. His mild and kindly face agrees well with what is known of his life. The one important action of his reign was that of a peacemaker, when he mediated between Venice and the King of Anjou. "He had not his equal," says Muratori, "in piety towards God, in equity and kindness towards his subjects. He was the protector of men of letters and was himself a good Latin scholar."

771. ST. JEROME IN THE DESERT.

Bono (Ferrarese: painted about 1450).

In the signature of this picture, "Bono of Ferrara" announces himself "a pupil of Pisano's," and the figure of St. Jerome here much resembles Pisano's "St. Anthony" (776). Bono's other known work is a fresco of St. Christopher in the Eremitani Chapel at Padua. "A clumsy and inferior master," says Morelli (German Galleries, p. 11 n.); "an excellent painter," says Sir F. Burton. His style is, at any rate, precise and effective.

St. Jerome (for whom see 773 and 227) is in the desert, deep in thought; his lion couched at his feet keeps his master's thoughts company as faithfully as a scholar's dog. The desert is here shown as the saint's study; notice, especially, the little table that the rock makes behind him for his books. Ruskin says of a similar modification of accessories to express supernatural character, in Bellini's "St. Jerome" at Venice: "The Saint sits upon a rock, his grand form defined against clear green open sky; he is reading; a noble tree springs out of a cleft in the rock, bends itself suddenly back to form a rest for the volume, then shoots up into the sky. There is something very beautiful in this obedient ministry of the lower creature; but be it observed that the sweet feeling of the whole depends upon the service being such as is consistent with its nature. It is not animated, it does not listen to the saint, not bend itself towards him as if in affection; this would have been mere fancy, illegitimate and effectless. But the simple bend of the trunk to receive the book is miraculous subjection of the true nature of the tree; it is therefore imaginative, and very touching" (Modern Painters, vol. ii. pt. iii. sec. ii. ch. v. § 8).

772. MADONNA AND CHILD ENTHRONED.

Cosimo Tura (Ferrarese: 1420-1495).

Cosimo Tura (pronounced Cosmè in Ferrarese) is the first Ferrarese painter of eminence and of native talent whose works have come down to us. He was a well-to-do citizen, and, like Titian after him, dealt in timber. As an artist he was in the service of Duke Borso of Ferrara (whose portrait is introduced in the background of No. 773), and other members of the princely house of Este. The court of Ferrara was then one of the most learned of Italy. A curious instance occurs in this picture, where, on either side of the Virgin's throne, are inscribed the Commandments, in Hebrew characters. Such inscriptions are common in Ferrarese pictures, and point to the presence of some Hebrew scholar or scholars. It was at this court that Cosimo came under the influence of Flemish art as described below, for the house of Este (which was of Lombard origin, and thus had a natural affinity perhaps for northern art) had invited Roger van der Weyden to Ferrara. Tura was "first employed by the Duke of Ferrara in 1451. Between 1452 and 1456 his whereabouts are uncertain. Possibly he was then in Padua among the followers of Squarcione, or else in Venice, to the poor of which city he left by will part of the fruits of his long and industrious life. In 1458 he rose to a fixed appointment in the Ducal service. He made a fortune, risked it in trade, and died a wealthy man" (Catalogue of the Burlington Fine Arts Club's Exhibition, 1894, p. xv.). Some of his works are to be seen at Ferrara, others are in the Berlin Gallery, at Bergamo, and the Correr Museum at Venice. He is one of the most unmistakable and least fascinating, yet most interesting of painters. Of beauty or grace in the human figure he had no perception. His colour schemes are peculiar, and harmonious rather than beautiful. But he had sincerity of purpose and vigour of manipulation. Where his subjects lend themselves to strength, he is impressive, as in the "St. Jerome" (773), but his Madonnas (772 and 905) are both affected and ugly. His patience in the execution of detail, and quaint if superabundant ornament, are always interesting. The picture now before us is thoroughly characteristic of a master who alternately repels and attracts.

The decorative detail here deserves close attention. Compare, for instance, the ornament of the pilasters here with that of the pilasters in Crivelli's "Annunciation" (739), which was painted about the same time. "Crivelli follows the traditional lines common to all such features from later Roman times downwards, while Tura's accessories are full of inventiveness and are evidently designed for this especial picture. Thus the cup, balls, and wing-like appendages in the pilaster are quite original. The general scheme of colour in the picture, also, with its contrasts of red and green, is quite apart from anything existing in contemporary Italian art, and recalls rather a Flemish stained-glass window of the fifteenth century" (G. T. Robinson in Art Journal, May 1886, pp. 149, 150). The musical instruments are also worth notice. "One of the angels, on the left, holds an ornamental viol, having five strings, with a carved man's head; another angel, on the right, holds a similar viol, with a carved woman's head. In the centre is placed a positive organ--that is, a small organ not intended for removal. The player is on the left, in front of the organ; the blower is on the right, behind it. Only natural keys are visible, but there are three stops to be drawn out from the side, in the primitive way, by means of cords attached to them, to control the pipes, of which thirty are visible and three are drones. These pipes are grouped in columnar disposition, like an hour-glass, and not in the order of ranks usual with small organs. It is noticeable that the player uses both hands, held nearly in the modern position" (A. J. Hipkins in The Hobby Horse, No. i. p. 19).

773. ST. JEROME IN THE DESERT.

Cosimo Tura (Ferrarese: 1420-1495). See 772.

Jerome knocking at his poor old breast With his great round stone to subdue the flesh--

and schooling himself into renunciation of the world, the flesh, and the devil. In contrast to the wildness of the surroundings, the painter introduces quite a company of birds and beasts--an owl sits in sedate wisdom above the saint, his familiar lion is walking to the stream for water, and in the crannies and ledges are other animals to keep him company. For it was his union of gentleness and refinement with noble continence, his love and imagination winning even savage beasts into domestic friends, that distinguished St. Jerome and formed the true monastic ideal (see 227).

774. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Unknown (Flemish School: 15th century). See also (p. xx)

On the Madonna's right is St. Peter; on her left St. Paul, an arrangement common in early art, St. Peter and St. Paul being the two chief apostles on whom the Church of Christ is built. St. Paul offers a pink to the infant Christ. Flowers were consecrated to the Virgin, and the early painters chose those they liked best to be emblems of love and beauty. Notice the design on the stuff fixed at the back of the Madonna's throne; it is a beautiful example of the ornamental work of the time in northern Europe. The picture was formerly ascribed to Van der Goes--an artist whose only certainly known picture is the altar-piece in the hospital of S. Maria Nuova in Florence,--and is by some ascribed to Bouts (see under 783).

775. AN OLD LADY.

Rembrandt (Dutch: 1606-1669). See 45.

An old lady, eighty-three years of age (as the inscription shows). This splendid portrait is dated 1634, and was made therefore when Rembrandt was twenty-eight. His mother was from the first a favourite sitter of his, and hence, perhaps, the affectionate fidelity with which he always painted the wrinkled faces of old age. In the British Museum there is an Indian-ink copy of this portrait, from which it appears that the lady's name was Françoise van Wasserhoven. Rembrandt, says M. Michel, "is most individual and moving in those portraits of old women, in which by the accidents of form and feature he so admirably suggests the moral life."

776. ST. ANTHONY AND ST. GEORGE.

Vittore Pisano (Veronese: 1380-1452).

The earliest picture of the Veronese School in the Gallery. "No school of painting in Italy except the Florentine shows," says Morelli, "so regular and uninterrupted a development, from the thirteenth to the seventeenth century, as the graceful school of Verona. If we look, for example, at some of the oldest frescoes at St. Zeno, at the frescoes of the great Pisanello in S. Anastasia of the first half of the fifteenth century, at the pictures of Liberale (1134 and 1336) and Domenico Morone (1211), and of their pupils Francesco Morone (285), Girolamo dai Libri (748), Michele da Verona (1214), Giolfino (749), and Morando (735 and 769), and then to Paolo Veronese and his followers, we find everywhere the same cheerful and graceful character looking out of each of these works of the Veronese School. The Veronese do not penetrate so deep into the essence of art as the Venetians, but they are, with few exceptions, more gracious and serene. And to this day the population of this beautifully situated town is reckoned the cheeriest and gayest in all Italy: Veronesi, mezzo natti" (German Galleries, p. 395). In the National Gallery the development of the Veronese School may, as will be seen from the references inserted above, be well studied. The importance and independence of the Veronese painters are shown by the career of Vittore Pisano, commonly called by the endearing diminutive Pisanello. He was born at St. Vigilio, near the Lake of Garda, and was probably a pupil of Altichiero, an older master of the Veronese School, and was famous as the inventor of a method of casting medals; but though better known now as a medallist, in his own day he was equally famous as a painter. In the frame of this picture are inserted casts from two of his medals, and it will be noticed that the lower one--a profile of himself--is inscribed Pisanus Pictor; Pisano the Painter. The medal above is that of Leonello d'Este, his patron, for whom this picture was probably painted, and whose portrait by a pupil of Pisano is in our Gallery (770). At Bergamo is a portrait of Leonello by Pisano himself (reproduced in the Illustrated Catalogue of the Morelli Gallery by Signor Frizzoni). Another evidence of Pisano's practice as a medallist will be noticed in the gilt embossed work of St. George's sword and spurs. Leonello wrote of Pisano as "the most illustrious of all the painters of this age," and contemporary writers similarly extol his fame. In 1421 he was summoned to Venice. "When, in the beginning of the fifteenth century, great monumental works in painting were to be carried out at Venice, the local school was still so insignificant that no native artist could be entrusted with the commission. They were obliged to summon Vittore Pisano, notwithstanding that he had once been on the list of the politically obnoxious, and as such was liable to penal consequences" (Richter). Pisano was accompanied by Gentile da Fabriano. "The presence of those two eminent artists in the city of the Lagoons gave," says Morelli, "a new impulse to its school of painting. Jacopo Bellini became a scholar of Gentile, and when his master had finished his work at Venice he accompanied him to Florence. During the few years of their stay at Venice, Gentile and Pisanello must not only have instructed Bellini in their art, but their influence on Antonio Vivarini of Murano also seems to me undeniable.... Taking him all in all, I consider that Giovanni Bellini was the greatest painter in North Italy in the fifteenth century, though undoubtedly Pisano was in the first half of the century as great a painter as was Bellini in the second half" (German Galleries, p. 357; Roman Galleries, p. 267). Of Pisano's wall-paintings in the Doge's Palace, in that of the Pope, and in the castles of the foremost princes of the century, no traces remain. His fresco of "St. George mounting for the fight" may be seen in the church of St. Anastasia at Verona. Among his very rare easel-pictures the one now before us is signed and very original in conception; No. 1436 is the most important, and is especially interesting as illustrating Pisano's love of representing animals, and the high reputation he enjoyed for his skill in doing so. "Vittore lived," says Sir F. Burton, "at a time when the traditions and forms of chivalry had not yet died out; and all his works, including his delicate and spirited pen-drawings in the Louvre, have a certain stamp of knightly grace which is singularly attractive: in this respect they resemble the creations of Gentile da Fabriano."

The subject of the picture--a meeting between St. George and St. Anthony, with a vision of the Virgin and Child above--is not to be found in the legends of the saints, and Pisano's conception is quite original. St. George appears to have been a favourite subject with the artist--probably because of the way in which his armour lent itself to medallion-like treatment. There is a good instance of frank anachronism in the large Tuscan hat of Pisano's own day which he quaintly makes St. George wear, "according to the everyday custom of the Italian noblemen at their country-seats in the summer."[181] Perhaps too the painter chose St. George partly because he involved a horse and a dragon, and Pisano, says Vasari, "took especial pleasure in the delineation of animals." This may have given him a weakness for the boar of good St. Anthony--the hermit saint whose temptations have passed into a proverb. The saint carries a bell, for "it is said that the wicked spirits that be in the region of the air fear much when they hear the bells ringen," and a staff, another means of exorcising the devil; whilst the boar, now tamed into service, is symbolical of the demon of sensuality which St. Anthony vanquished. And here perhaps we find the clue to the idea in the picture. For the dragon whom St. George slew represents the same sensual enemy. St. George conquered by fighting, St. Anthony by fasting. The two saints now meet when "each on his course alone" has "worked out each a way." The old man, whose life has been spent in struggle, greets the triumphant youth with curious surprise; and St. George too, with the thoughtful look on his face, will have much to say and learn. But over them both, as to all who overcome, the heavens open in beatific vision; for though there be diversity of gifts, it is the same spirit. The signature of the painter (Pisanus pinxit) is fantastically traced by herbage in the foreground.

777. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Paolo Morando (Veronese: 1486-1522). See 735.

A picture of great beauty, which goes far to justify the title of "the Raphael of the Veronese School" by which Morando has been distinguished. Every visitor will be struck by the unpretentious simplicity of conception, the rich colours and the sweet faces--with just a dash of Raphaelesque affectation. It is interesting to note that Morando was almost exactly contemporary with Raphael, while his art exhibits a maturity developed under totally different circumstances. For Morando never left Verona, and was thus, says Sir F. Burton, "a pure growth of the native Veronese School. His colouring, though often brilliant, is rather cold; the pale flesh-tints, glossy in surface, are shadowed with grey, and even the lake reds introduced in garments tend towards that purplish hue which the best colourists avoid."

778. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Martino da Udine (Venetian: 1470-1547).

Martino of Udine was called also Pellegrino of San Daniele (a village near the former place). According to Vasari, he was a pupil of Giovanni Bellini, who, astonished at the marvellous progress of his pupil, gave him the name of Pellegrino--that is, rare, extraordinary. More probably, however, it should be interpreted merely as a stranger or foreigner at Udine, Martino being of Dalmatian origin (see for a full account and discussion of this painter Morelli's German Galleries, pp. 18-23). He was, says Sir F. Burton, "one of those men who, with little native genius, have yet the capacity of absorbing material from others, and of working it into new forms with success. Thus Pellegrino turned out some works which, while they carry the foreign stamp of Giorgione, Titian, Pordenone, or other great contemporaries, nevertheless show considerable freshness of conception and treatment." His altar-piece, of 1494, in the church of Osopo, shows the influence of Cima da Conegliano. From 1504 to 1512 he was frequently at Ferrara working for the Duke Alfonso. In 1519-1521 he painted a part of the choir of S. Antonio at S. Daniele (the earlier part was painted in 1497); in this, his best work, he appears as an imitator not only of Pordenone but of Romanino. In 1526 he went, apparently for the first time, to Venice, there to buy colours for a large picture which he had engaged to paint for the church of Cividale: that picture shows his study of Palma. Pellegrino combined with painting the business of a timber merchant. "That so mediocre a painter as Pellegrino should have attained high honour in Friuli need," says Morelli, "surprise no one who knows the other painters of that little country. The value of anything in the world is comparative. The Friulan race never manifested the same talent for art as, for instance, their neighbours of Treviso."

On the right of the throne is St. James, with his hand on the shoulder of the donor of the picture; on the left St. George, with the dead dragon at his horse's feet.

779, 780. FAMILY PORTRAITS.[182]

Borgognone (Lombard: about 1455-1523). See 298. See also (p. xx)

On the left (779) a group of nine men, above them a hand, probably of some patron saint; on the right (780) a group of thirteen women, kneeling (apparently) by the side of a tomb--studies of character drawing. These pictures are painted on silk (now attached to wood), and were originally part of a standard. Mr. Pater says of Borgognone that "a northern temper is a marked element of his genius--something of the patience, especially, of the masters of Dijon or Bruges, nowhere more clearly [seen] than in the two groups of male and female heads in the National Gallery, family groups, painted in the attitude of worship, with a lowly religious sincerity which may remind us of the contemporary work of M. Legros. Like those northern masters, he accepts piously, but can refine, what 'has no comeliness'" ("Art Notes in North Italy," in the New Review, November 1890).

781. RAPHAEL AND TOBIAS.

Florentine School (15th century). See also (p. xx)

The Hebrew legend of Tobit and his son Tobias (told in the Book of Tobit in the Apocrypha) was a favourite one with the Mediæval Church, and became therefore a traditional subject for painting; see e.g. in the National Gallery, 288, 72, and 48. Tobit, a Jewish exile, having fallen also into poverty, and afterwards becoming blind, prays for death rather than life in noble despair. "To him the angel of all beautiful life (Raphael) is sent, hidden in simplicity of human duty, taking a servant's place for hire, to lead his son in all right and happy ways of life" (Fors Clavigera, 1877, p. 31). Here we see Raphael leading the young Tobias into Media, where he was to marry Sara, his rich kinswoman, the daughter of Raguel. But she was haunted by an evil spirit, who had slain her seven husbands, each on their wedding-day, and the angel bade Tobias take the gall of a certain fish, wherewith afterwards to heal his father's blindness, and its heart and liver wherewith to drive away the evil spirit from his bride. Tobias is carrying the fish, Raphael has a small box for the gall. The "rising step" and the "springy motion in his gait" are characteristic of him who was the messenger of heaven, the kindly companion of humanity--

Raphael, the sociable spirit, that deigned To travel with Tobias, and secured His marriage with the seven times wedded maid.

MILTON: Paradise Lost, v. 221.

For the authorship of this picture, see under 296. "This picture," says a critic who gives both to Verrocchio, "may possibly be not entirely from his hand, but there is no doubt that it is essentially his, and that to his fancy for painting boyhood and opening youth we owe that curious misreading of the story of Tobias, representing him as a young lad instead of a grown man, which is to be found through all the numerous Florentine picture of him by the school of Botticelli, by Piero di Cosimo and the rest" (Times, October 26, 1888).

782. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Botticelli (Florentine: 1447-1510). See under 1034. See also (p. xx)

Probably only a "school picture." Most of the old masters kept schools, or shops, in which several pupils served as apprentices and worked at pictures under the master's directions. The sale of such pictures under the master's name was (and is) a very common occurrence, and even in those days forged signatures were not unusual.

783. THE EXHUMATION OF BISHOP HUBERT.

Unknown (Early Flemish: 15th century).

This beautiful work was formerly in the collection of Mr. Beckford at Fonthill, where it was described as the Burial of a Bishop by Jan Van Eyck. It has also been ascribed to Gerard Van der Meire (see 1078) and to Thierri Bouts (about 1420-1475). This latter painter--called by early authors Thierry, or Dierik of Haarlem, from the name of his native town, and by modern writers Thierri Stuerbout,--was town's painter of Louvain, and a pupil probably of Roger van der Weyden. His principal works are now in the Brussels Museum. Other pictures in the Gallery attributed to him by some critics are 664, 774, and 943. Van der Meire, Justus of Ghent, and Albert Van Ouwater have also been suggested as the painters of this picture; it closely resembles the "Raising of Lazarus" ascribed to the last-named painter in the Berlin Gallery.

St. Hubert was originally a nobleman of Aquitaine, much addicted to all worldly pleasures, and especially to that of the chase. But one day in Holy Week, when all good Christians were at their devotions, as he was hunting in the forest of Ardennes, he encountered a milk-white stag bearing the crucifix between his horns. Filled with awe and astonishment, he renounced the pomps and vanities of the world, turned hermit in that very forest of Ardennes, was ordained, and became Bishop of Liège. So the legend runs, embalming, we may suppose, the conversion of some reckless lover of the chase, like the wild huntsman of the German legend. And at Liège he was buried, but thirteen years afterwards his body was disinterred, and lo! it was found entire; even the episcopal robes in which he had been interred were without spot or stain. A century later the body was removed from Liège and reinterred in the abbey church of the Benedictine monks of Ardennes. The Emperor Louis le Débonnaire assisted at the translation of the relics, and the day was long kept as a festival throughout this part of Flanders. This is the subject of the present picture, of which the scene is laid in the choir of a beautiful Gothic church. On the altar behind the principal group stands a shrine, on which is a little figure of St. Hubert with his hunting-horn. The royal personage assisting represents Louis le Débonnaire. The picture is of wonderful beauty, finished in every part (abridged from Mrs. Jameson: Sacred and Legendary Art, pp. 431, 432). Though it is thus an historical picture, the artist takes the figures from his own time, and the heads, like miniatures in character and delicacy of expression, are doubtless portraits--the whole scene being a picture of a Flemish Cathedral on some festival day. Notice, as a particularly interesting little piece of life, the man flattening his nose against the screen on the left, with a jeering expression, as if he "didn't half believe it all." It is a piece of living grotesque, exactly such as meets one in the sculptured stones of a mediæval cathedral itself--"peeping round the corner at you and lurking in secret places, like a monk's joke whispered in church" (Conway's Early Flemish Artists, p. 17).

788. AN ALTAR-PIECE.

Carlo Crivelli (Venetian: painted 1468-1493). See 602.

This important picture is one of Crivelli's masterpieces and is very characteristic of his genius and its limitations. The work, it will be seen, is not so much a picture as a collection of panel pictures built up into a gorgeous piece of decoration. The panels in the two lower tiers were painted for the old church of San Domenico, at Ascoli; the central panel of the Madonna and Child is inscribed with the painter's name and the date 1476. The church was rebuilt in 1776, and some years afterwards the picture came into the possession of Cardinal Zelada at Rome, who added the four upper pictures by the same painter. In 1852 the picture passed to Prince Anatole de Demidoff, at Florence, where it was put into its present magnificent frame. Crivelli's artistic aim, it has been said, was the development and perfection of isolated figures for elaborate altar-pieces of this kind, and those before us are among the best he ever did: "in them calm dignity, strength of character, gentleness, and grace, can all be treated by him with perfect success apart from the disturbing elements of emotion and action." The type of the Virgin here is very characteristic, with her high-arched eyebrows, small mouth, and hair tightly drawn back from the forehead. So too are the hands, with very long fingers, in which affectation borders on dislocation. Very natural, on the contrary, is the figure of the infant Christ, "fast asleep with one hand under his head while with the other he grasps his mother's middle finger--a picture drawn from the life." The decorative details are characteristic. Note the dolphins on the base of the throne. The festoons are meant to represent real offerings of fruit, tied with string and fastened with nails. On one side of the Virgin is St. Peter, an impressive figure: his costume shows the use of raised ornaments and imitation gems, which is common in Crivelli's earlier works, but which he gradually dropped. Beyond St. Peter is St. John the Baptist in the wilderness: the hard and severe style of the figure is remarkable. "The landscape in which he stands should not be passed over, with the stream flowing at his feet and the tree-stems broken off so as not to interfere with the gold background which sets off the upper half of the figure." On the other side of the Virgin is St. Catherine of Alexandria, and beyond her St. Dominic--a figure "admirable in its expression of piety and humility and in the personality with which Crivelli has invested it." The half-length figures in the second tier are St. Francis, with the stigmata; St. Andrew, with cross and book--a very grand head; St. Stephen, with the stones of his martyrdom; and St. Thomas Aquinas, with book and the model of a church. In the top tier are St. Jerome, also carrying the model of a church; the Archangel Michael, trampling on the dragon and weighing in a pair of scales a man and a woman who are of light weight; St. Peter Martyr, with the sword of his martyrdom, and St. Lucy, carrying a plate with eyes upon it. The reference is to the legend which relates that in order to discourage the suit of a youth who loved her for the beauty of her eyes, she plucked them out with her own hands and sent them to him in a dish. The youth, struck with remorse, became a Christian, and Lucy's sight was miraculously restored to her.

790. THE ENTOMBMENT OF CHRIST.

Michael Angelo (Florentine: 1475-1564).

Michelangelo (commonly anglicised as above) Buonarroti (which surname, however, is commonly dropped) is the Titan of Italian art. He was the rival of Raphael; and amongst the artists who were present at the unveiling of his great statue of David were Perugino, Botticelli, Lorenzo di Credi, Leonardo da Vinci, and Filippino Lippi. He lived through the fall of Rome and Florence, and survived into the decadence of Italian art. In the many-sidedness of his genius he may be compared to Leonardo da Vinci. He was at once painter, sculptor, architect, and man of action. The greatness of his work was reflected in that of his character. He passed most of his life at Rome, amidst the petty intrigues of a debased Court; but he never placed his self-respect in jeopardy. Filial duty, too, was one of the mainsprings of his life. He lived most sparingly, and sent all the money he could save to support his father's family at Florence. "Whence they must pray God," he says in one of his letters, "that all his works may have good success." He was proud, and would brook no insult; and when Pope Julius left him with unpaid marbles and workmen on his hands, he mounted his horse and rode off to Florence. There are many stories, too, of the quiet sarcasm with which he would "reproach men for sin." "What does the raised hand denote?" Julius asked of a statue of himself. "You are advising the people of Bologna to be wise," was Michelangelo's reply. With all this, however, he was for the most part above the jealousy of other artists. When commissioned to paint the Sixtine Chapel, he urged that Raphael would be a more fit person to execute so great a work; and when he was appointed architect of St. Peter's he refused to permit any material alteration of Bramante's design, though Bramante had perpetually intrigued against him. Michelangelo was a poet also (his sonnets have been translated by J. A. Symonds), his poetry being partly inspired by Vittoria Colonna, widow of the Marquis of Pescara, to whom late in life he became attached, and whose friendship, until her death in 1547, was the solace of his lonely labours.

It is only in Florence and in Rome that the work of Michelangelo can be studied. Our Gallery is fortunate, however, in having two easel pictures, which, whether entirely from his own hand or not, are eminently characteristic of his style. The South Kensington Museum and the Royal Academy each possess one example of his sculpture. His drawings are to be seen in several English collections, especially in that of the University of Oxford. A concise chronological summary may here be useful to recall to the reader's recollection the chief works of the master. At the age of thirteen he was apprenticed for three years to Domenico Ghirlandaio to whom our picture, No. 809, was formerly ascribed. He made rapid advance in the art of painting, and showed also aptitude for sculpture; so that in 1489, before his apprenticeship was out, Domenico recommended him to Lorenzo de' Medici, who had founded a school of sculpture in the garden of his villa. Here, in the society and service of Lorenzo, Michelangelo remained for four years. Lorenzo's unworthy successor Piero employed the young artist only on unworthy commissions, setting him on one occasion, it is said, to make a statue of snow; a tradition which inspires a noble passage in Ruskin's Political Economy of Art, as also in Mrs. Browning's Casa Guidi Windows. In 1493 Michelangelo removed to Bologna, returning in the next year to Florence, where he produced a "Sleeping Cupid," which was sold in Rome as a veritable antique. This induced him, in 1496, to try his fortune in the Papal capital. To this period belong his statue of "Cupid," now at South Kensington, the "Bacchus" in the Bargello at Florence, and the noble "Pietà" in St. Peter's at Rome. By these works he attained the position of the greatest sculptor in Italy, and on his return to Florence in 1501 he executed the colossal statue of "David," now in the Accademia. Works of about the same time are the round marble relief in the possession of the Royal Academy, and our picture No. 809. The circular "Madonna and Child," now in the Uffizi, belongs to 1504. In the same year he received a commission to paint one wall of the Palazzo Vecchio. The painting was never executed; but Michelangelo's cartoon for it,--known as the "Cartoon of Pisa"--excited great admiration for its treatment of the human figure. In 1505 began Michelangelo's stormy relations with the imperious Pope, Julius II. For two years he was employed on a great bronze statue of the Pontiff, which was afterwards cast as a cannon and used against the Pope by the Bolognese. In 1508, being then thirty-three, Michelangelo was commissioned by Julius to paint the ceiling of the Sixtine Chapel. In this great work, which was finished on November 1, 1512, the artist set forth, in the vehicle of the human form, his conception of the creation, and the early history of the world, with reference to man's final redemption and salvation. The frescoes have in our time been admirably photographed, and the figures of the Prophets and Sibyls, who sit enthroned in niches round the vault, are very widely known. The paintings caused Michelangelo to suspend his labour on the mausoleum of Julius--a work which gave him an infinity of labour and vexation, and which was never finished. The great figure of "Moses," now in S. Pietro in Vincoli, and the "Captives," in the Louvre, were designed for this monument. During the nine years' pontificate of Leo X. (1513-22), Michelangelo was mostly employed in the unworthy occupation of procuring marble from the quarries of Pietra Santa for the façade of the church of San Lorenzo at Florence. The short reign of Adrian VI. succeeded, and Michelangelo went on working for a time at the monument to Julius. He was also employed on the works of the Medici Chapel at Florence. In 1523 when Clement VII. succeeded, the artist was put to various architectural works. Stormy years followed, and Michelangelo quitted the Medici statues to defend his native city. He was appointed director of fortifications, and was entrusted also with diplomatic missions. When in 1530 Florence was treacherously yielded to the Medici, Michelangelo lay for some time in concealment. Clement, however, gave him his pardon, and ordered him to resume work on the Medici chapel in San Lorenzo. He worked, as he says, with "morbid haste" but saddened heart, and thus were completed his most impressive productions in sculpture--the four great recumbent figures for the tombs of Lorenzo and Giuliano de' Medici. In 1534 Clement died. Michelangelo flung down his mallet, and set foot in Florence no more. But "a new Eurystheus arose for our Hercules." The artist hoped to complete the mausoleum of Julius. But the new Pope, Paul III., set him to work upon the fresco of the Last Judgment, on the altar wall of the Sixtine Chapel. In this mighty work, containing 314 figures, which occupied him from 1534 to 1542, the painter "devoted his terrible genius to a subject worthy of the times in which he lived." Since he had first listened, while a youth, to the prophecies of Savonarola, the woes announced in that apocalypse had all come true. To Michelangelo, Christ came as an avenger, vindictive and implacable, and the lost souls fall before his wrath in every contortion of nudity. After the painting of the "Last Judgment," one more great labour was reserved for Michelangelo. He was called upon to succeed Antonio da San Gallo as architect of St. Peter's, a post which he continued to hold under succeeding Popes until his death. "The dome of St. Peter's, as seen from Tivoli or the Alban hills, like a cloud upon the Campagna, is his; but he has no share in the façade which screens it from the Piazza." His last poem declared the vanity of the art which was his glory, and his dying words to his household were these; "In your passage through this life remember the sufferings of Jesus Christ." His body was taken, as he had desired, to Florence, and he lies in Santa Croce.

To the artistic genius of Michelangelo, a few out of innumerable tributes may here be mentioned. Raphael "thanked God that he was born in the days of Michelangelo," and Sir Joshua Reynolds says, in his Discourses, that "to kiss the hem of his garment, to catch the slightest of his perfections, would be glory and distinction enough for an ambitious man." His knowledge of the human body and his power of representing it were supreme. "If a combination of the most exquisite finish in drawing and modelling which allows the work to bear the closest inspection in its details, with the utmost simplicity, breadth, and clearness of effect in a distant view, constitute, as I believe they do, the elements of perfect work, I must assert positively," says Sir Edward Poynter, "that Michelangelo is the most perfect of workmen." This workmanship was employed with consummate dramatic effect. "He considered figures the highest means of telling a story; he concentrated his powers on the single important point of expression, so that he had no need of accessories to help him out with his story" (Lectures on Art). But above all the work of Michelangelo was the expression of "a vast imaginative gift, the stormy poetry of his mind." His works, says Ruskin, "have borne and in themselves retain and exercise the same inexplicable power--inexplicable because proceeding from an imaginative perception almost superhuman, which goes whither we cannot follow, and is where we cannot come; throwing naked the final, deepest root of the being of man, whereby he grows out of the invisible, and holds on his God home" (Modern Painters, vol. ii. "Of Imagination Penetrative"). "About the qualities of his genius," says Symonds, "opinions may and will, and ought to differ. It is so pronounced, so peculiar, so repulsive to one man, so attractive to another, that, like his own dread statue of Lorenzo de' Medici, 'it fascinates and is intolerable.' There are few, I take it, who can feel at home with him in all the length and breadth and dark depths of the regions that he traversed. The world of thought and forms in which he lived habitually is too arid, like an extinct planet, tenanted by mighty elemental beings with little human left to them, but visionary Titan-shapes, too vast and void for common minds to dwell in pleasurably. The sweetness that emerges from his strength, the beauty which blooms rarely, strangely, in unhomely wise, upon the awful crowd of his conceptions, are only to be apprehended by some innate sympathy or by long incubation of the brooding intellect. It is probable, therefore, that the deathless artist through long centuries of glory will abide as solitary as the simple old man did in his poor house at Rome" (Life of Michelangelo, ii. 373). On his successors the influence of Michelangelo was not happy. They could imitate his mannerisms, but not his manner. They had not his imagination, but they could copy the violent attitudes in which he clothed his Titanic thoughts. The anatomical studies which with him were the groundwork for his imagination to build upon became in their hands the final object of their art. (Among those who have been alternately fascinated and repelled by Michelangelo was Ruskin. His case against Michelangelo is contained in the pamphlet entitled The Relation between Michael Angelo and Tintoret. But some of Ruskin's critics forget that the pamphlet was meant to be read in conjunction with his own earlier praise in Modern Painters, and with Mr. Tyrwhitt's appreciation in Christian Art and Symbolism. "These lectures," said Ruskin, in his preface to that book, "show throughout the most beautiful and just reverence for Michael Angelo, and are of especial value in their account of him; while the last lecture on sculpture, which I gave at Oxford, is entirely devoted to examining the modes in which his genius itself failed, and perverted that of other men. But Michael Angelo is great enough to make praise and blame alike necessary, and alike inadequate").

One of the many unfinished works, which, as Vasari tells us, Michelangelo left behind him in painting as in sculpture. Its history is interesting. It was formerly in the gallery of Cardinal Fesch, which was sold and dispersed after his death. From its unfinished state and neglected condition it attracted little attention, and was bought literally "dirt cheap" by Mr. Macpherson, an English gentleman established as a photographer in Rome. After the dirt upon its face had been removed, it was submitted to competent judges, who unhesitatingly pronounced it to be the work of Michelangelo. The discovery caused a great sensation. A law-suit was instituted against Mr. Macpherson for the recovery of the picture, which was sequestrated pending the decision of the Roman courts. After some years he obtained a judgment in his favour, removed the picture to England, and sold it to the National Gallery for £2000. Peter von Cornelius, the eminent German painter, in evidence in the law-suit declared it to be "una cosa preziosa--un vero originale di Michelangelo."[183]

However this may be, the picture is entirely characteristic of the school of Michelangelo. What we notice in it most is not the features of the Maries, but the rendering of the corpse, in all its flaccid limbs and muscles:--

"Take the heads from a painting of Angelico,--very little but drapery will be left;--drapery made redundant in quantity and rigid in fold, that it may conceal the forms, and give a proud or ascetic reserve to the actions of the bodily frame. Bellini and his school, indeed, rejected at once the false theory and the easy mannerism of such religious design, and painted the body without fear or reserve, as, in its subordination, honourable and lovely. But the inner heart and fire of it are by them always first thought of, and no action is given to it merely to show its beauty. Whereas the great culminating masters, and chiefly of these, Tintoret, Correggio, and Michael Angelo, delight in the body for its own sake, and cast it into every conceivable attitude, often in violation of all natural probability, that they may exhibit the action of its skeleton and the contours of its flesh. Correggio and Tintoret learn the body from the living body, and delight in its breath, colour, and motion. Michael Angelo learned it essentially from the corpse, and had great pride in showing that he knew all its mechanism. The simplicity of the old religious art was rejected not because it was false, but because it was easy; and the dead Christ was thought of only as an available subject for the display of anatomy" (Modern Painters, vol. iii. pt. iv. ch. iv.; Relation between Michael Angelo and Tintoret, passim).

The ideal of the painter has in fact changed. The picture is in its essence not a devotional work: it is a study in the dead nude.

794. A DUTCH COURTYARD.

Pieter de Hooch (Dutch: 1630-about 1677).

Hooch (or Hooghe)--"the indoor Cuyp," as he has been called, and "one of the glories of the Dutch School--is also one of the glories of England," for it was here that his great merits were first discovered, and that three-fourths of his pictures are now preserved. "There are," says Ruskin (Modern Painters, vol. v. pt. ix. ch. viii. § 11), whilst tracing the general insensitiveness of the Dutch School, "deeper elements in De Hooghe, sometimes expressed with superb quiet painting." He chose the simplest subjects and used apparently the simplest means. But his figures are always placed with the utmost skill, and the details, so carefully wrought, are all made contributory to the general idea of the picture. In producing an effect of serenity, Hooch is unsurpassed. Of his life nothing is known except that he was at Delft 1653-56, and that afterwards he resided at Amsterdam. In his own country, a fine picture by him so late as 1765 brought only 450 florins. In 1817 it fetched 4000 florins, whilst in 1876 the Berlin Gallery paid £6000 for one of his pictures. At the Secrétan Sale in 1889 an "interior" by De Hooch fetched £11,040. The present picture was bought in Paris in 1869 for £1722. No. 834 fetched in 1804, £220; No. 835, in 1810, £187.

The whole picture, in its cheerful colour and dainty neatness, seems to reflect the light of a peaceful and happy home, in which everything is done decently and in order. They are no rolling stones, these Dutch burghers, but stay-at-home folk, whose pride is in the trimness of their surroundings. Every day, one thinks, the good housewife will thus look to see that the dinner is duly prepared; every day the husband will thus walk along the garden, sure of her happy greeting. The picture is signed, and dated 1665.

796. A VASE OF FLOWERS.

Jan van Huysum (Dutch: 1682-1749).

Jan was the son and pupil of Justus van Huysum, a painter of Amsterdam. By close study Jan attained great fame as a flower-painter. The principal florists of Holland supplied him with their choicest productions as subjects, and his reputation soon spread throughout Europe. "Whilst still young he became rich and honoured, and reached the summit of fortune. The prices noted in the sale catalogues of the eighteenth century, which are altogether out of proportion to those realised by other works, reveal to us with what infatuation this finished master, so delicate, erudite, and careful, was regarded" (Havard: The Dutch School, p. 264). He usually arranged his flowers in elegant vases, of which he finished the ornaments in the most careful manner. He was fond also of introducing a bird's nest with eggs. Both of these characteristics may be seen in the picture before us. The care with which he rendered every detail is remarkable. "As to you, dear old Jan Van Huysum," writes an artist of our own day, "you have edified me beyond expression. You teach me that a man can't be too careful as to his work, be it what it may. Your pearly dewdrops on the fresh gathered green things of the earth refresh me. Your tiny ants on the petals of the pink teach me in their minute contemplation to be like the star, Ohne Hast, Ohne Rast. How cool, and calm, and cheerful, and confident you are, Jan!" (Letters of James Smetham, p. 173). "The world is so old," says Ruskin, "that there is no dearth of things first-rate; and life so short that there is no excuse for looking at things second-rate. Let us then go to Rubens for blending, and to Titian for quality, of colour; to Veronese for daylight, and Rembrandt for lamplight; to Buonarroti for awfulness, and to Van Huysum for precision. Any man is worthy of respect, in his own rank, who has pursued any truth or attainment with all his heart and strength" (Letter to Liddell in the Memoir of the Dean, by H. L. Thompson, p. 224). Other pictures by Jan Van Huysum may be seen in the Wallace Collection and the Dulwich Gallery.

Signed, and dated 1736-1737. Notice the bird's nest, with the greenfinch's eggs.

797. A MAN'S PORTRAIT.

Cuyp (Dutch: 1620-1691). See 53.

This excellent portrait serves to remind us that, unlike most of his fellow landscape painters, Cuyp could paint his own figures. Indeed we have seen that he sometimes painted them in other landscapes, see No. 152. The picture is signed "Aetatis suae 56, 1649. A. Cuyp fecit." Cuyp is one of the most various of all the Dutch masters. "What universality in the hand that could paint skies more glowing than those of Both, clouds as vaporous as those of Van de Cappelle, water more luminous than Van de Velde's, cattle as true to nature as Paul Potter's, horses better than Wouverman's, horsemen more distinguished than Vandyck's! Sometimes, too--and there is a noble example in our National Gallery--we find Aelbert Cuyp painting portraits, not in the stiff precise way that the father painted them, but with a freedom of touch and a brilliancy of colour that place him between Van der Helst and Rembrandt" (Quarterly Review, October 1891, and Fromentin's' Les Maitres d'autrefois, "Hollande," ch. viii.).

798. CARDINAL RICHELIEU.

Philippe de Champaigne (French: 1602-1674).

A painter of historical subjects and portraits, he was born at Brussels, but went to Paris at the age of 19. He was employed by Du Chesne, the painter royal, to work at the Luxembourg in concert with Nicolas Poussin. Du Chesne was of mediocre talent and jealous disposition, and Champaigne and Poussin soon left him. The two men were mutually attached, and in after years Champaigne discoursed at a session of the Academy on the merits of his friend Poussin. Champaigne returned to Brussels, but was recalled in 1627 to succeed Du Chesne. He executed many works for the churches and royal residences and also for Cardinal Richelieu's palace. He became an original member of the French Academy in 1648, of which he was also Professor and Rector. Towards the end of his life, his fame began to pale before that of Le Brun. His religious and historical works, of which there are several in the Louvre, are apt to leave the modern spectator cold; but his portraits are excellent.

This picture was painted for the Roman sculptor Mocchi to make a bust from, hence the two profiles as well as the full face. Over the profile on the right are the words (in French), "of the two profiles this is the better." In this profile the compressed lips, the merciless eyes, the iron-gray hair and prominent nose, bespeak the great Cardinal Minister of Louis XIII., and the maker of France, who summed up his policy and his character in the words, "I venture on nothing without first thinking it out; but once decided, I go straight to my point, overthrow or cut down whatever stands in my way, and finally cover it all up with my cardinal's red robes." In the full face one sees rather the man who was also a princely patron of the arts and artists (of De Champaigne amongst their number), and the founder of the French Academy.[184] The central head here was clearly used as a study for the full-length portrait, No. 1449.

802. VIRGIN AND CHILD.

Bartolommeo Montagna (Venetian: about 1450-1523).

Montagna was born near Brescia, and worked at Vicenza, but must have studied at Venice.[185] "He is entitled," says Kugler, "to a much higher place among the painters of the last part of the fifteenth century than that hitherto accorded to him. His art is distinct in character, with a firm outline and a bold, sure hand; his colour is low but rich, bright, and gem-like. He gives a grand, dignified expression and pose to his figures; his draperies are generally arranged in broad folds, and his landscape backgrounds, although minute, frequently denote an original and poetical fancy." His best work is the great altar-piece now in the Brera at Milan, a picture worthy to rank with those of the same kind by Bellini and Carpaccio. Other important works by Montagna are in the Public Gallery of Bergamo, in the Museo Civico at Vicenza, and in the Pilgrimage Church on Monte Berico, near Vicenza.

This picture is ascribed by some critics to Giovanni Speranza, a painter of Vicenza contemporary with Montagna.

803. THE CIRCUMCISION OF CHRIST.

Marco Marziale (Venetian: painted 1499-1507).

Marco was one of the assistants engaged to work under Giovanni Bellini in the decoration of the Ducal Palace. Whilst Bellini received sixty ducats a year, Marco received only twenty-four. Nothing else is known about his career. Of his works, which are very rare, the best are in our Gallery.

An example which shows what wealth of interest there is in the National Collection. It is only by a second-rate painter of the Venetian school; but no picture in the Gallery is richer than this in decorative design. Note first the varied and beautifully-designed patterns in the mosaics of the church--recalling one of the domes of St. Mark's. Then the lectern, covered with a cloth, and the delicately-embroidered border, wrought in sampler stitch, deserve close examination. The cushion above this, and the tassels, formed of three pendent tufts of silk hung on to a gold embroidered ball, offer good decorative suggestions to the trimming manufacturer. Attached to the front of the lectern is a label or "cartellino," setting forth that "Marco Marziale the Venetian, by command of that magnificent knight and jurisconsult, the learned Thomaseo R., made this picture in the year 1500." As it is probable that this was the first important commission Marco ever obtained on his own account, there is little wonder that he wrought the record so elaborately. This "Thomaseo R." was Raimondi, a knight of the order of Jerusalem--a man of considerable note in Cremona as a lawyer and poet. His portrait occupies the forefront of the right-hand corner of the picture, his set features recalling the lawyer rather than the poet. It is his mantle, however, which best repays notice--a sumptuous robe of raised red velvet, such a fabric as Venice was then winning industrial renown by weaving. The very pretty pattern is of the so-called "pomegranate form," and occurs also on the mantle of the donor's wife, who occupies a corresponding position on the left-hand side of the picture. In the South Kensington Museum there is a remnant of Italian silk brocade of this pattern (in the Bock collection). The robe of the High Priest is also evidently taken by the painter from a silk robe, and is very rich. The design, in which the wild pink is largely introduced, is unique. Ruskin had a wall-paper made for him in 1872 copied from this robe: it has ever since been used for the walls of the drawing-room and study at Brantwood. "It will thus be seen that this one picture brings before us a great number of suggestions in design for various technic arts; at least half a dozen patterns exist in the ornaments of the mosaic work of the vaults; five or six patterns of embroidered or woven borders will be found in it, as many designs for diapered or other surface decoration, examples of beaten metal-work and of bookbinding, besides the carved wood lectern." For notice of other points, see further the interesting article by G. T. Robinson in the Art Journal, June 1886, and cp. Vacher's Italian Ornament, No. 24.

804. MADONNA AND CHILD ENTHRONED.

Marco Marziale (Venetian: painted 1499-1507). See 803.

This picture was painted seven years later (1507) than 803, which it resembles in the bright mosaics of the vault and the interesting design on the robe of the bishop on the left. Notice the little angel playing the mandoline on the steps of the throne, characteristic of the earlier Venetian painters.

805. PEELING PEARS.

Teniers (Flemish: 1600-1694). See 154.

806. THE PROCESSION TO CALVARY.

Boccaccio Boccaccino (Cremonese: about 1460-1525).

Boccaccino was a native of Cremona, where many of his works are still preserved. "All that is best in his art," says Morelli, "he derived from the school of the Bellini." In the Venetian Academy is a beautiful "mystic marriage of St. Catherine" which is signed by him. He is a painter, says Kugler, "of very distinct individuality, and may be easily recognised by the peculiar type and expression of his figures, and especially by his women, who generally have much grace and beauty. One of his characteristics is a light-grey eye with a dark rim." This picture is "not characteristic of Boccaccino's manner, and is probably by another hand" (ii. 389).

For some remarks on the subject of this picture see under 1143.

807. MADONNA AND CHILD ENTHRONED.

Carlo Crivelli (Venetian: painted 1468-1493). See 602.

This picture (like 724) is signed by "Sir Charles": it is dated 1491. It bears the painter's sign-manual also in the fruits and the vase of flowers. The giver of the picture (which was dedicated to the Virgin, and which, as recorded in a Latin inscription below, cost no inconsiderable sum) is kneeling, in the habit of a Dominican nun, at the foot of the throne. On the Madonna's left is St. Sebastian, pierced with arrows and tied to a pillar, but with the happy look of "sorrow ended" on his face. On her right is St. Francis. Near his feet are some flowers and a snail--typical of the kindness and humbleness of the saint, of whom it is recorded that "he spoke never to bird nor to cicala, nor even to wolf and beast of prey, but as his brother," and who thus taught the lesson "Never to blend our pleasure, or our pride, With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels" (Wordsworth).

808. ST. PETER MARTYR.

Giovanni Bellini[186] (Venetian: 1426-1516). See 189. See also (p. xx)

A fancy portrait of a jolly comfortable-looking Dominican monk--a faithful portrait doubtless. His face is painted as it really was, "wart and all," but it has pleased him to be represented in the character of Peter, a famous member of his order (see under 812).

809. THE HOLY FAMILY.

Michael Angelo (Florentine: 1475-1564). See 790.

The Virgin mother is seen withholding from the child Saviour the prophetic writings in which His sufferings are foretold. Angelic figures beside them examine a scroll--

Turn not the prophet's page, O Son! He knew All that Thou hast to suffer and hath writ. Not yet Thine hour of knowledge. Infinite The sorrows that thy manhood's lot must rue And dire acquaintance of Thy grief. That clue The spirits of Thy mournful ministerings, Seek through yon scroll in silence. For these things The angels have desired to look into.

Still before Eden waves the fiery sword,-- Her Tree of Life unransomed: whose sad tree Of Knowledge yet to growth of Calvary Must yield its Tempter,--Hell the earliest dead Of Earth resign,--and yet, O Son and Lord, The Seed o' the woman bruise the serpent's head.

D. G. ROSSETTI: Sonnets and Ballads.[187]

This picture was at one time attributed to Domenico Ghirlandajo; and Signor Frizzoni now attributes it to Granacci. But, says Sir Edward Poynter, "the beauty of the figures, the nobility of the heads, and the fine qualities of drawing and modelling stamp it as the work of the great master himself." "In my judgment," says Symonds (Life of Michelangelo Buonarroti, i. 65), "this is the most beautiful of the easel pictures attributed to Michelangelo.... Florentine painters had been wont to place attendant angels at both sides of their enthroned Madonnas. But their angels were winged and clothed like acolytes; the Madonna was seated on a rich throne or under a canopy, with altar-candles, wreaths of roses, flowering lilies. It is characteristic of Michelangelo to adopt a conventional motive, and to treat it with brusque originality. In this picture there are no accessories to the figures, and the attendant angels are Tuscan lads half draped in succinct tunics. The types have not been chosen with regard to ideal loveliness or dignity, but accurately studied from living models. This is very obvious in the heads of Christ and St. John. The two adolescent genii on the right hand possess a high degree of natural grace. Yet even here what strikes one most is the charm of their attitude, the lovely interlacing of their arms and breasts, the lithe alertness of the one lad contrasted with the thoughtful leaning languor of his comrade. Only perhaps in some drawings of combined male figures made by Ingres, for his picture of the 'Golden Age,' have lines of equal dignity and simple beauty been developed."

810. PARDON DAY IN BRITTANY.

Charles Poussin (French: born 1819).

M. Pierre Charles Poussin, a pupil of L. Cogniet, was an exhibitor at the French Salon from 1842 to 1882. Many of his pictures were, like this one, of scenes in Brittany.

The scene is that of a fête held in honour of Notre Dame de Bon Secours of Guingamp in Brittany, on the 2nd of July in every year. Pope Paul V. in 1619 granted a plenary indulgence to all persons "who truly confessed and communicated, who shall visit the said church of Notre Dame de Guingamp on the day and fête of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, which it is the custom every year to celebrate on the 2nd day of July; who shall devotionally pray for the preservation of concord and peace among all Christian princes; who shall render hospitality to the poor pilgrims; who shall make peace with their enemies, and shall promote it amongst others--shall, in short, sweetly bring into the way of salvation some unfortunate and erring soul." An English visitor published a long account of the fête in the Standard of July 5 and following days in 1870, describing "the frank but sedate festivity and merry-making under the trees." That was twenty years after this picture was painted.

811. TOBIAS AND THE ANGEL.

Salvator Rosa (Neapolitan: 1615-1673). See under 84.

For the subject of Tobias, who is in the water holding the fish, see 781. The wild rocky landscape conveys a general sense of savage power. Salvator, says Ruskin, is "a good instance of vicious execution, dependent on too great fondness for sensations of power, vicious because intrusive and attractive in itself, instead of being subordinate to the results and forgotten in them" (Modern Painters, vol. i. pt. i. sec. ii. ch. ii. § 9).

812. THE DEATH OF ST. PETER MARTYR.

Giovanni Bellini[188] (Venetian: 1426-1516). See 189.

"Peter Martyr was general of the Dominicans in 1252, a most powerful person in the Holy Inquisition, and a violent persecutor for what he deemed the true faith, which made him many inveterate enemies. There was one family in particular which he had treated with excessive cruelty, and their relations, who were in the army, were so enraged by Peter's barbarity that they resolved to revenge themselves.... Having been informed that he was to make a visit to a distant province in pursuit of some wretched heretics, who had been denounced to the inquisition, they lay in wait for him in a wood, through which they knew he must pass, in company with one person, a friar of his convent; here they attacked him, cleft his skull with a sabre, and left him dead on the spot" (Mrs. Jameson; Handbook to the Public Galleries, 1842, i. 70).

This picture, one of the painter's latest works, is interesting, first, for its skill in landscape. It is a true piece of local scenery that Bellini paints,--"all Italian in masses of intricate wood and foliage, in plain, mountain, and buildings, and glowing, not under direct sunshine, but with the soft suffusion of southern light" (Layard, i. 312). It is, says Ruskin, one of the six most beautiful landscapes in the earlier mediæval art, of the "purist" school, "being wholly felicitous and enjoyable." Every leaf is painted with loving care, and Bellini treats the incident in the foreground as "entirely cheerful and pleasing; it does not disturb or even surprise him, much less displease in the slightest degree." "You see in a moment the main characteristic of the school,--that it mattered not in the least to John, and that he doesn't expect it to matter to you, whether people are martyred or not, so long as one can make a pretty grey of their gown, and a nice white of their sleeves, and infinite decoration of forest leaves behind, and a divine picture at last out of all. Everything in the world was done and made only that it might be rightly painted--that is the true master's creed" (Verona and its Rivers, § 27, and Lectures on Landscape, pp. 22, 65, 73).[189] Notice, further, Bellini's compliance, as far as the subject admitted, with one of the conditions of the greatest art, "serenity in state or action." "You are to be interested in the living creatures; not in what is happening to them.... It is not possible, of course, always literally to observe this condition, that there shall be quiet action or none; but Bellini's treatment of violence in action you may see exemplified in a notable way in his "St. Peter Martyr." The soldier is indeed striking the sword down into his breast; but in the face of the Saint is only resignation and faintness of death, not pain--that of the executioner is impassive; and while a painter of the later schools would have covered breast and sword with blood, Bellini allows no stain of it; but pleases himself with most elaborate and exquisite painting of a soft crimson feather in the executioner's helmet" (Relation between Michael Angelo and Tintoret, p. 16).

814. DUTCH BOATS IN A CALM.

P. J. Clays (Belgian: 1818-1900).

Paul Jean Clays was a native of Bruges. He studied art in Paris under Gudin, and afterwards settled at Brussels, where in 1851 he received a gold medal. He frequently exhibited at the French Salon, and was a chevalier of the Legion of Honour as well as of the Order of Leopold. For a long time, says a French critic, "the sea, or rather the water, has had no interpreter more exact than Clays: he knows its clearness, and he knows how to render the little noisy waves, all bathed in light." "He does not paint the sea," says another, "but the Scheldt where it widens, and those gray and light waters that bear you on a steamer from Moerdyk to Rotterdam. With a profound feeling for these things he expresses the humidity of the skies of Western Flanders, the sleep of the calmed waters, or the caressing, and sometimes menacing, of the breeze which makes the little uneasy waves stride around the barges loaded to the brim." Some of his pictures have fetched very large prices--one having sold in New York for £3550 (Miss Clement and Laurence Hutton: Artists of the Nineteenth Century).

815. DUTCH BOATS AT FLUSHING.

P. J. Clays (Belgian: 1818-1900). See 814.

816. THE INCREDULITY OF ST. THOMAS.

Cima da Conegliano (Venetian: 1460-1518). See 300.

A picture interesting among other things for its history. It is signed and dated (1504), and was painted as a commission for a religious fraternity, for the altar of their patron saint, St. Thomas, in the church of St. Francesco at Portogruario (near Conegliano). The price paid for it was equal to about £17 sterling, at that time representing a considerable sum. The account of its cost and of a law-suit instituted by the painter against the fraternity is still preserved. For 328 years it remained in its original place; it was then removed by the local authorities, and in 1870 was sold to our Government. When bought it "was greatly disfigured by various repaints, and was otherwise in bad condition. Judicious cleaning and restoration (by Mr. Wm. Dyer) have brought out its fine qualities. The heads are highly expressive, and some of the figures ... of great dignity" (Layard, i. 325).

817. TENIERS'S COUNTRY-SEAT AT PERCK.

Teniers (Flemish: 1600-1694). See 154.

"A perfect type of the Unromantic Art which was assailed by the gentle enthusiasm of the English School of Landscape. It represents a few ordinary Dutch houses, an ordinary Dutch steeple or two, some still more ordinary Dutch trees, and most ordinary Dutch clouds, assembled in contemplation of an ordinary Dutch duck-pond; or, perhaps, in respect of size, we may more courteously call it a goose-pond. All these objects are painted either gray or brown, and the atmosphere is of the kind which looks not merely as if the sun had disappeared for the day, but as if he had gone out altogether, and left a stable lantern instead. The total effect having appeared, even to the painter's own mind, at last little exhilatory, he has enlivened it by three figures on the brink of the goose-pond--two gentlemen and a lady,--standing all three perfectly upright, side by side, in court dress, the gentlemen with expansive boots, and all with conical hats and high features. In order to invest those characters with dramatic interest, a rustic fisherman presents to them, as a tribute,--or, perhaps, exhibits as a natural curiosity,--a large fish, just elicited from the goose-pond by his adventurous companions, who have waded into the middle of it, every one of them, with singular exactitude, up to the calf of his leg" (Art of England, pp. 209, 211). The group on the left comprise the painter and his wife, another lady, and his son.

818. COAST SCENE.

Bakhuizen (Dutch: 1631-1708). See 204.

819. OFF THE MOUTH OF THE THAMES.

Bakhuizen (Dutch: 1631-1708). See 204.

On representations of rough weather by this painter and Vandevelde, Ruskin writes as follows: "If one could but arrest the connoisseurs in the fact of looking at them with belief, and, magically introducing the image of a true sea-wave, let it roll up through the room,--one massive fathom's height and rood's breadth of brine, passing them by but once,--dividing, Red-Sea like, on right hand and left,--but at least setting close before their eyes, for once in inevitable truth, what a sea-wave really is; its green mountainous giddiness of wrath, its overwhelming crest--heavy as iron, fitful as flame, clashing against the sky in long cloven edge,--its furrowed flanks all ghastly clear, deep in transparent death, but all laced across with lurid nets of spume, and tearing open into meshed interstices their churned veil of silver fury, showing still the calm gray abyss below; that has no fury and no voice, but is as a grave always open, which the green sighing mounds do but hide for an instant as they pass. Would they, shuddering back from this wave of the true, implacable sea, turn forthwith to the papillotes? It might be so. It is what we are all doing, more or less, continually" (Harbours of England, p. 19). In default of the actual sea-wave, the visitor may be recommended to look next at Turner's rough seas (472 and 476). Such a comparison will show how much of the roughness in the Dutch pictures is due to mere blackness, how little to any terror in the forms of the waves, such as Turner depicts.

820. LANDSCAPE WITH RUIN.

Berchem (Dutch: 1620-1683). See 78.

821. A FAMILY GROUP.

Gonzales Coques (Flemish: 1618-1684).

In spite of his Spanish-sounding name, this artist was a pure Fleming. He was born at Antwerp and appears never to have left his native town. His father, whose surname was Cocx, gave the child the name of Gonzalvus: these names the painter afterwards changed to Gonzales Coques. His first master was Peter Breughel (the third painter of that name). He afterwards studied under David Ryckhaert the Elder, whose daughter he married. His first subjects were conversation-pieces and assemblies; but the extraordinary reputation acquired by Van Dyck for his portraits inspired Coques with the ambition to distinguish himself in like manner, although on a smaller scale. There is in the little works of Coques the same air of elegance and refinement which distinguishes Van Dyck. Hence he has been called "the Little Van Dyck." His works, says Bürger, are "Van Dycks seen through the wrong side of the glass"; or as another critic puts it, "Van Dycks in 18mo." They were greatly admired during his lifetime, and he was patronised by Charles I., the Archduke Leopold, and the Prince of Orange. His works, however, are very rare; about half of them are in this country. He was admitted as a master in the Guild of Painters in 1640-41, and twice served as its Dean, in 1665-66 and 1680-81.

Notice the youngest child in the go-cart, which is being pushed by another of the children, whilst the eldest sister, as befits her years, is playing the guitar. And the little dogs, as befits them, are sporting in front. It is pretty of the painter or his sitters to include them in the family group.

822. AN EVENING LANDSCAPE.

Cuyp (Dutch: 1620-1691). See 53.

An excellent example of the hazy, drowsy effect in which Cuyp excelled. "A brewer by trade,[190] he feels the quiet of a summer afternoon, and his work will make you marvellously drowsy. It is good for nothing else that I know of; strong, but unhelpful and unthoughtful. Nothing happens in his pictures, except some indifferent persons asking the way of somebody else, who, by the cast of countenance, seems not likely to know it. For further entertainment, perhaps, a red cow and a white one; or puppies at play, not playfully; the man's heart not going even with the puppies. Essentially he sees nothing but the shine on the flaps of their ears" (Modern Painters, vol. v. pt. ix. chap. vi. § 12).

823. ON THE MEUSE.

Cuyp (Dutch: 1620-1691). See 53.

Notice the reflections. Cuyp "is a man of large natural gift, and sees broadly, nay, even seriously; finds out--a wonderful thing for men to find out in those days--that there are reflections in the water, and that boats require often to be painted upside down" (Modern Painters, vol. v. pt. ix. ch. vi. § 12).

824. A RUINED CASTLE.

Cuyp (Dutch: 1620-1691). See 53.

The castle may be the same as that seen in No. 1289. Some lines from Beattie's "Scotland" have been applied to it:--

Behold our lakes ... Each girdled with its mountain belt Of rock and tower and forest trees, And gemmed with island sanctuaries Like floating palaces, they seem The elysium of a poet's dream.

This picture was originally bought at Horn, in the Netherlands, of an old clothesman, for 1s. 3d. Sir Robert Peel paid 350 guineas for it.

825. THE POULTERER'S SHOP.

Gerard Dou (Dutch: 1613-1675). See 192.

This picture, as an acknowledged chef d'oeuvre of the master, has long been celebrated. It was purchased by Sir Robert Peel from the Fonthill Collection in 1823 for £1270. Mrs. Jameson, on seeing the picture at Sir R. Peel's, wrote: "All executed with such a nicety of touch--such an inconceivable truth and minuteness of imitation--as to render the picture a very miracle of art. A higher merit consists in the admirable painting of the heads, especially that of the old woman, which is full of life." "A wicker market-basket is a common homely thing, but look at its presentment here--every polished, well-used twig of it following the true undulations of form and colour, light and shade, through the marvellous patience and skill of the vanished Dutchman--and see if it does not produce an exquisite poetic tremor by the thoughts it evolves. There is a dead image of the barnyard cock which Mr. Darwin may compare with the barndoor fowl of to-day as accurately as if it were photographed. His once fiery eye is glazed and sightless as a dim pearl, his neck feathers ruffled but no longer in anger or pride; his pale, amber-coloured legs helplessly and ingloriously reversed, their impatient and masterful scratching among his dames in the stubble over for ever; the glossy purples, greens, and blacks of his tail-feathers rising sharp and delicate out of the speckled hazes of colour which it required days and days to lay side by side among the crushed and crowding plumes. The cock, the horologe of Thorpe's light, crows no more to the answering hill-farms. He is destined for the spit of the housewife who holds up the hare. But his fate was glorious, for by what tens of thousands since the year 1650 or thereabouts have his perfections been admired and praised. It was worth living for, and, to chanticleer, worth dying for, to become the occasion of such a miracle of art" (Smetham's Literary Works, p. 240).

826. FIGURES AND ANIMALS.

827. FORDING THE STREAM.

828. LANDSCAPE WITH CATTLE.

Karel du Jardin (Dutch: 1622-1678).

This painter was the ablest of the followers of Nicolas Berchem, and like that master often painted Italian scenery. He stayed for some years in Rome, where his pictures were greatly admired, and where, in the jovial artist circles of the day, he was given the nickname of "Barbe de Bouc" (goat's-beard). On his return from Italy he is said to have stayed some time at Lyons, where he married a widow with whom he afterwards settled in Holland. He resided at the Hague from 1656 to 1659, and there was much influenced by the example of Paul Potter. He next moved to Amsterdam, which he made his home for some years. He returned in the end to the Italian haunts of his early years, and died at Venice. In his best pastoral works, the truth and finish of his execution, the brilliancy of their atmosphere, and the harmonious colouring, are attractive. He also painted portraits and large groups, and executed some good etchings.

It has been said of Du Jardin that his works are "excellent when they are not detestable," a remark which is well exemplified in these pictures. No. 827 is at once vulgar in incident and unpleasant in colour. No. 826, on the other hand, one of the pastoral idyls for which Du Jardin is famous, is a chef d'oeuvre of the painter (Sir Robert Peel paid 930 guineas for it). No. 828 has a true Italian air, and there is a touch of almost pathetic humour in the contrast between the cow and the woman. It is the beast that has its eyes on the sunset and enjoys the benediction of the evening hour. The woman is cumbered with much serving, and spins with her back to the light.

829. A STAG HUNT.

Jan Hackaert (Dutch: 1629-1696).

Hackaert was a native of Amsterdam, but between the years 1653 and 1658 he travelled much in Switzerland, Germany, and Italy. At this time he chose his subjects from the mountains. In painting the landscape of his own country he especially affected woodland views, with effects of light shining through the trees.

The figures in this picture are attributed to N. Berchem.

830. THE AVENUE, MIDDELHARNIS.

Hobbema (Dutch: 1638-1709). See 685.

Perhaps the best rendering of a Dutch village in the Gallery--beautiful alike in its general effect and in the faithful way in which every characteristic of the country is brought out. Note the long avenue, a High Street, as it were, of lopped trees, to lead the traveller to the village; the bright red roofs, suggestive already in the distance of the cheerful cleanliness he will find; the broad ditch on either side of the road--the land reclaimed from the water, and the water now embanked to fertilise the land; the neat plantations, allotments it may be, each as trim and well kept as a lawn; and lastly, the nursery-garden on the left, in which the gardener, smoking, like the true Hollander, as he works, is pruning some grafted trees. Middelharnis is one of several places that dispute the honour of being Hobbema's birthplace.

This picture--which is signed, and dated 16-9 (third figure illegible)--is generally recognised as the painter's masterpiece. The subject is unusual, showing a more open landscape and a wider expanse of sky than Hobbema ordinarily represented. The power and freshness with which he has treated the theme are remarkable. "Such daylight," says Waagen, "I have never seen in any picture." It is to be noted further that the artist makes no effort to attain the picturesque, and that the picture offends in some respects against the laws of composition. Thus "M. Michel complains of the road coming straight, at once cutting the picture awkwardly in two, of the slender trees with which it is symmetrically bordered, and which have on their tops only small plumes of foliage, of the parallel ditches which hold in the road on either side, and of the cross-road which cuts the picture horizontally, and lastly, the rose-trees and shrubs planted regularly in straight lines. All this, he says, does not make a very picturesque picture. For our own part, it is the fearless and truthful manner in which Hobbema has treated what must at first sight have appeared an unpromising subject, that is one of its greatest charms" (Cundall: The Landscape Painters of Holland, p. 53). Like Hobbema's pictures generally, this masterpiece was held in little honour in its own country. It was sold at Dort in 1815 for £90. Sir Robert Peel bought it in 1829 for £800. It is said to have been restored and retouched by Reinagle (see Mrs. Jameson's Handbook to the Private Galleries of London, p. 354 n.).

831. THE RUINS OF BREDERODE CASTLE.

Hobbema (Dutch: 1638-1709). See 685.

This fine picture also is somewhat unusual in subject for Hobbema, who was ordinarily content with humble village scenes. It affords a good instance of his literal truth to nature. M. Michel, in his monograph on the painter, gives side by side a reproduction of it and a sketch from his own pen of the ruins as they exist to-day, which, with the exception of the addition of a modern barbaric bell-turret and some battlements, preserve almost the identical appearance which Hobbema portrayed upwards of two centuries ago. "The ivy continues to entwine its garlands round the disjointed bricks, and, as formerly, the ducks sport in the stagnant waters of the moat, or take a luxurious siesta amidst the tufts of grass on its banks, while the rooks and crows, installed as masters in the recesses of the ancient walls, fill the air with their incessant cries" (quoted in Cundall's Landscape and Pastoral Painters of Holland, 1891, p. 52). The ducks[191] are ascribed to Wyntrank; the figures to Lingelbach. The picture is signed, and dated 1667. It was, however, at one time re-christened as a Wijnants, in order to procure a better price at auctions. In 1825 it sold for £880.

832. A VILLAGE WITH WATERMILLS.

Hobbema (Dutch: 1638-1709). See 685.

This is one of Hobbema's most usual subjects--a cottage, a mill, a few trees. The effect is that of a summer sky, with light fleecy clouds, and gleams of sunshine seem to pass over the scene. Sir Robert Peel paid £525 for the picture. It should be compared with Ruysdael's of a similar scene (986).

833. A FOREST SCENE.

Hobbema (Dutch: 1638-1709). See 685.

834. A DUTCH INTERIOR.

Pieter de Hooch (Dutch: 1630-about 1677). See 794.

This picture is interesting as enabling us to discern the painter's technical process. "The more luminous parts of it, such as the costumes of the two men at the table, are painted in semi-opaque colour over a brilliant orange ground. Here and there the orange may be seen peeping out, and its presence elsewhere gives a peculiar pearliness to the tints laid upon it. De Hooch painted very thinly. In this picture the maid with the brazier is an afterthought. She is painted over the tiles and other details of the background, which now show through her skirts. Before she was put in, this space to the right was occupied by an old gentleman with a white beard and moustache, and a wide-brimmed hat, all of which can be descried under the brown of the mantelpiece" (Armstrong: Notes on the National Gallery, pp. 36, 37).

835. COURT OF A DUTCH HOUSE.

Pieter de Hooch (Dutch: 1630-about 1677). See 794.

A courtyard at Delft: superbly painted, and a good picture of Dutch home life--of its neatness, its cleanliness, its quiet, and its content. Notice over the entrance a commemorative inscription, partly covered already by vine leaves, dated 1614. The day's work is done, and the wife stands in the porch, waiting for her husband's return; a servant brings down the child too into the courtyard to greet its father. "It is natural to think your own house and garden the nicest house and garden that ever were.... They are a treasure to you which no money could buy,--the leaving them is always pain,--the return to them a new thrill and wakening to life. They are a home and a place of root to you, as if you were founded on the ground like its walls, or grew into it like its flowers" (Fors Clavigera, 1876, p. 51). Such a home (says Mr. Pater in his Imaginary Portraits) "was, in its minute and busy wellbeing, like an epitome of Holland itself, with all the good-fortune of its thriving genius reflected, quite spontaneously, in the national taste. The nation had learned to content itself with a religion which told little, or not at all, on the outsides of things. But we may fancy that something of the religious spirit had gone, according to the law of the transmutation of force, into the scrupulous care for cleanliness, into the grave, old-world, conservative beauty of Dutch houses, which meant that the life people maintained in them was normally affectionate and pure." This picture was much admired by Constable. "The least mannered," he said, "and consequently the best pictures I have seen, are some of the works of De Hooge, particularly one of an outdoor subject, at Sir R. Peel's. His indoors are as good, but less difficult, as being less lustrous" (Leslie's Life of Constable, p. 299). The picture is signed, and dated 1658.

836. A VIEW IN HOLLAND.

Philip de Koninck (Dutch: 1619-1688).

Koninck, or Koning, was born at Amsterdam and became a pupil of Rembrandt. He painted historical subjects and portraits, but it is for his landscapes that he is now most admired. These are generally expansive views in which aerial perspective is well given: "The distances of the painters of the older schools had been full of objects and figures as minutely rendered as those on the foremost places, only ever so much smaller. Compare with these distances the simply treated expanse of country offered to view in P. de Koninck's landscapes. Here we do not have merely a series of objects getting smaller as they recede, but a far more generalised representation of the whole face of nature bathed in an atmosphere in which objects are lost to view" (Baldwin Brown's Fine Arts, p. 301).

There is a repetition of this picture in the Royal Museum at the Hague. One may presume that Koninck's pictures had aristocratic purchasers; for, unlike the painters of "pastoral landscape," he is fond of introducing persons of distinction--here it is a hawking party; in 974 a carriage-and-six with outriders.

837. THE HAY HARVEST.

Jan Lingelbach (Dutch: 1623-1674).

Though a German by birth, Lingelbach is included amongst the Dutch painters; for he lived chiefly in Amsterdam, and was largely employed in inserting the figures in the landscapes of Wynants and others. He also passed some years in Italy, and frequently painted Italian scenes and incidents.

838. THE DUET.

Gabriel Metsu (Dutch: 1630-1667).

Metsu is one of the genre painters who are now appraised most highly--sums of £2580 and £3200 severally were given at the Secrétan Sale for pictures of his. In the Hertford House Gallery are some good specimens which the late Sir Richard Wallace acquired at great cost. Though, like most of his brother-artists, he was fond of painting tavern-scenes (e.g. No. 970), he was also a painter of high life and the drawing-room, like Terburg and Netscher. "In each of these spheres he combined humour with expression, a keen appreciation of nature with feeling, and breadth with delicacy of touch, in a manner unsurpassed by any of his contemporaries" (Crowe). "When his pictures have escaped the ordeal of ruthless cleaning they are pervaded by the finest tone, and the whites in them have that delicate glow which distance and atmosphere lend to snowy peaks. It is obvious that he caressed this least manageable of colours with unceasing love. Altogether his works have a quality of distinction rare in those of any school" (Burton). Metsu's father was a painter, whose third wife (the mother of Gabriel) was a painter's widow. The boy was taught by Gerard Dou, and already at the age of fourteen was admitted a member of the Leyden Guild of Painters. In 1650 he removed to Amsterdam, where he fell under the influence of Rembrandt. The large picture in the Louvre of "The Woman taken in Adultery," signed by Metsu and dated 1653, shows this fact. Metsu did not, however, adhere to religious subjects, but applied the lessons he learnt from the great master to subjects more congenial to his talent.

839. THE MUSIC LESSON.

Gabriel Metsu (Dutch: 1630-1667).

A picture that might serve as an illustration of "the gamut of Hortensio" (see Taming of the Shrew, Act. iii. sc. 1).

840. A LADY FEEDING A PARROT.

Frans van Mieris (Dutch: 1635-1681).

This painter, the son of a goldsmith (one of twenty-three children) and the pupil of Gerard Dou, is known as "Old Frans," to distinguish him from his grandson of that name, who, like his son William (see 841), was also a painter. The works of Frans are very much superior to those of his successors. "Unlike William Mieris, he rarely cared to carry the eye from the beautiful painting of the figures by working up or covering the base of the casement with highly finished bas-reliefs. That kind of thing may be looked for in William Mieris's curiously finished pictures, but certainly is not wanted in the works of Francis. His female figures, independently of being always well painted, are often graceful and pretty; he could paint a lady at her toilet with the delicacy and feeling of Metsu and Terburg, and was besides happy in varying the expressions and faces of his female beauties; he was fond of painting them in richly coloured jackets trimmed with fur. He was also a capital hand at painting birds" (Seguier). The elegance and high technical qualities of his productions brought him numerous and distinguished patrons. The Grand Duke of Tuscany visited him at Leyden, and the Archduke Leopold William desired to attract him to Vienna. Mieris, however, would not leave Leyden; nor did his large and lucrative practice induce any carelessness or neglect in his work.

841. A FISH AND POULTRY SHOP.

Willem van Mieris (Dutch: 1662-1747).

The son of Frans (see above, 840). He succeeded to his father's practice, but was an indifferent imitator. A comparison between him and the leading "Little Masters of Holland" will show the difference between true finish and laborious trifling.

Decidedly an "artistic" shop: notice the elaborate bas-relief (as also in 825), with marine subjects suitable to a fishmonger's, below the shop-window, and the handsome curtain ready to serve as shutters. The picture is sometimes called "The Cat," from the cat eyeing the duck whose head hangs from the window-sill.

842. A GARDEN.

Frédéric de Moucheron (Dutch: 1633-1686).

This painter came of an Antwerp family, but he studied and afterwards settled at Amsterdam. He also studied and worked for some years in Paris. He confined himself to landscape; Lingelbach, A. van de Velde and others were employed to paint in his figures.

The figures here are ascribed to Adrian van de Velde.

843. BLOWING BUBBLES.

Gaspard Netscher (Dutch: 1639-1684).

Netscher, one of the chief painters of Dutch "high life," had a somewhat eventful career. He was born at Heidelberg, which was then being besieged. His mother, after seeing her two elder children die of hunger before her eyes, escaped with Gaspard through the investing lines to Arnheim. The boy was intended for a doctor, but took to painting and studied under Terburg. In 1659 he started on a tour to Italy, but at Bordeaux he fell in love with a girl from Liège, whom he married. He settled at Bordeaux, but his pictures, such as this, which are now so much valued, then brought him but slight remuneration; and after returning to the Hague, he turned his attention to portrait-painting. Several of his portraits are of English sitters, and it is supposed that he visited this country, but this is uncertain. Netscher's portraits are generally on a small scale, and very highly finished. He was patronised by William III., and was rapidly acquiring fame, when he died at the age of forty-five. His genre pieces resemble those of F. Mieris.

844. MATERNAL INSTRUCTION.

Netscher (Dutch: 1639-1684). See 843.

Notice in the background, over a cupboard, hanging in a black frame, a small copy of Rubens' "Brazen Serpent," now in this collection (59).

845. A LADY AT A SPINNING WHEEL.

Netscher (Dutch: 1639-1684). See 843.

846. THE ALCHYMIST.

Adrian van Ostade (Dutch: 1610-1685).

Adrian, the elder of the two Ostades, was a pupil of Frans Hals. Later in life, he felt the influence of Rembrandt, and he painted some religious subjects. But he is best known for his scenes from peasant life. These are now greatly esteemed, and pictures which the painter himself probably sold for a few shillings now fetch hundreds and even thousands of pounds. Adrian Ostade is the contemporary of Teniers, and it is interesting to compare their respective delineations of rustic life. "The contrast lies in the different condition of the agricultural classes of Brabant and Holland. Brabant has more sun, more comfort, and a higher type of humanity; Teniers, in consequence, is silvery and sparkling; the people he paints are fair specimens of a well-built race. Holland, in the vicinity of Haarlem, seems to have suffered much in war; the air is moist and hazy, and the people, as depicted by Ostade, are short, ill-favoured, and marked with the stamp of adversity on their features and dress. The greatness of Ostade lies in the fact that he often caught the poetic side of the life of the peasant class, in spite of its ugliness and stunted form and mis-shapen features. He did so by giving their vulgar sports, their quarrels, even their quieter moods of enjoyment, the magic light of the sun-gleam, and by clothing the wreck of cottages with gay vegetation" (Crowe). Ostade was especially fond of the foliage of the vine. He is often coarse, but sometimes shows a genuine sense of humour. He had, says Sir F. Burton, "artistic qualities of a high order--consummate skill in composition and taste in arrangement; subtlety of chiaroscuro and refined delicacy of colour; appropriate, and never overstrained action in the figures, and precision, combined with breadth, of handling. His earlier pictures are the coolest in tone; those of his middle period more golden, showing gradually the influence of Rembrandt. His drawings and etchings are extremely fine." His father, Jan Hendrik, was a weaver; the children adopted the name of Ostade from a small hamlet, near Eindhoven, which their parents left to settle at Haarlem. There Adrian lived and worked, being enrolled as a member of the Civic Guard in 1636, and becoming Dean of the Painters' Guild in 1662. He was twice married; the second time, to a daughter of Jan van Goyen.

Under the three-legged stool is a paper on which is written a warning of the vanity of the alchymist's labour--oleum et operam perdis: "you are wasting your cost and pains"--a warning not unjustified in a painter's mouth, for more than one old master devoted the end of his life to the fruitless task of making gold (e.g. Parmigiano, see 33). The English painter, Romney, too, dabbled in alchemy when he was a young man, and in his declining years sketched a melodrama representing the progress of an alchymist in quest of the philosopher's stone. The picture is signed (on a shovel hanging against the wall), and dated 1661. It is, says Mr. J. T. Nettleship in a comparison between Ostade and George Morland, "a marvellous example of the atmosphère de tableau. Everything takes its place, but is also a wonder of finish. The whole picture gives you a large feeling of space and tone. And there is no bogeydom, no straining after weirdness; the whole is a common workshop, the scene of the man's daily life; he feeds well, one is sure--if he has dreams his face does not betray them, it is just the face of a born craftsman. It is impossible to look at this picture without acknowledging the influence such work must have had on Morland. But Morland never achieved such delicacy united to breadth, such finish combined with harmony of effect, though before he took the wrong turn he came near achieving it" (George Morland, p. 23).

847. A VILLAGE SCENE.

Isaac van Ostade (Dutch: 1621-1649).

Isaac, born at Haarlem, was the younger brother of Adrian van Ostade, with whom he remained as pupil till 1641, when he set up in business on his own account. There is a record of a transaction of his in that year which throws an interesting light on the picture-dealing world of the day. In 1643 a dealer summoned him for breach of a contract made in 1641 to deliver six pictures and seven "rounds" for twenty-seven florins. Part of Isaac's defence was that his pictures had since risen in value. The case was referred to the Painters' Guild, which decided that he must perform his contract, but that the number of the "rounds" should be reduced to five and the price of the whole be increased to fifty florins. It may be conjectured that the low value thus set upon the cottage scenes in his brother's manner induced Isaac to cultivate a different style of his own. This consisted largely of village inns (of which the present picture is a capital example), and winter scenes (among which No. 963 in our Gallery is a masterpiece). He combined a genuine appreciation of nature with great skill in the treatment of figures. He was fond, as will be seen, of introducing a white horse to serve as the principal light in his compositions.

This picture was bought by Sir Robert Peel for 400 guineas, and was esteemed, says Mrs. Jameson in her catalogue of his collection, "the masterpiece of the painter. The transparent, sparkling beauty of the execution was never surpassed. The figures, the foliage, the animals, the atmospheric effect, are all perfect."

848. A SKATING SCENE.

Isaac van Ostade (Dutch: 1621-1649). See 847.

849. LANDSCAPE WITH CATTLE.

Paul Potter (Dutch: 1625-1654).

Paul Potter, the best of the Dutch cattle painters, was the son of an artist (see 1008), and a remarkable instance of precocious talent, having been a clever painter and etcher at the age of fourteen. The environs of Enkhuizen, where he was born, did not offer scenes of surpassing beauty; but the rich brown and gold tints of the cattle contrasted pleasantly with the verdure of the flat fields. These Potter set himself to study and to paint; and so accurately did he master the anatomy of cattle that a writer on the natural history of Holland, in 1769-79, did not hesitate to utilise, in order to illustrate his work, paintings and sketches by Potter, including geometrical drawings which he had made to demonstrate the proper proportions of cattle. His skill brought him much patronage at the Hague; and in 1650 he married the daughter of a distinguished architect in that city, who made some objections, it is said, to his daughter marrying a mere "painter of animals." But the painter of animals prospered better than many of his contemporary painters of men, and both at the Hague and at Amsterdam his works continued to be in great request. But a too close application to his art told on a weak constitution, and he died of consumption at the age of twenty-nine (Cundall's Landscape and Pastoral Painters of Holland, pp. 113 sq.). For a century after his death his works realised very small sums, but latterly they have been sought after at extravagant prices. Technically they are very accomplished; but Ruskin calls attention to a certain defect of feeling in his treatment. He "does not care even for sheep, but only for wool; regards not cows, but cow-hides. He attains great dexterity in drawing tufts and locks, lingers in the little parallel ravines and furrows of fleece that open across sheep's backs as they turn; is unsurpassed in twisting a horn or pointing a nose; but he cannot paint eyes, nor perceive any condition of an animal's mind except its desire of grazing" (Modern Painters, vol. v. pt. ix. ch. vi. § 12). In estimating his work, it should however be remembered that he died very young, and died learning. The famous "Young Bull" of the Hague, painted in 1647 when he was twenty-two, is usually considered his masterpiece. Rather, says Fromentin, is it only a tour de force, a wonderful study. The portrait of the painter as he appeared in his last days, done by his friend Van der Helst, is in the Hague Museum.

Signed, and dated 1651, and therefore among the painter's later works.

850. A MAN'S PORTRAIT.

Rembrandt (Dutch: 1606-1669). See 45.

Dated 1635. The sitter wears the typical "Rembrandt collar."

851. VENUS SLEEPING.

Sebastiano Ricci (Venetian: 1659-1734).

An unimportant work by a painter who worked for several years in this country, and covered many walls and ceilings with his facile compositions. Examples of his religious and mythological pictures may be seen at the Dulwich Gallery. Ricci, says Dr. Richter in his catalogue of that collection, "is one of the most attractive painters of the Italian decadence. His compositions are lively and ingenious, without, however, being profound." There are also several of his works at Hampton Court. He was born at Belluno in the Venetian State, and before coming to England was employed by the Duke of Parma and at the Viennese court in decorating the palace of Schoenbrunn. He left England in disgust on finding that the work of decorating the cupola of St. Paul's was to be entrusted to a native artist, Sir James Thornhill. "Ricci had great facility in imitating the style of other masters. His picture of the 'Apostles adoring the Sacrament' in the church of S. Giustina at Padua is painted in imitation of the cupola of S. Giovanni at Parma by Correggio; and his 'S. Gregorio' at Bergamo recalls the works of Guercino. But his most successful imitations were those of Paul Veronese, many of which he is said to have sold as by that master. He deceived the French painter La Fosse, who avenged himself by the sarcastic remark, 'For the future, take my advice and paint no more Ricci's'" (Bryan).

852. THE CHAPEAU DE POIL.

Rubens (Flemish: 1577-1640). See 38.

One of the best known and most be-copied pictures in the Gallery. Its fame among artists "depends to no slight extent on its being a tour de force. The head is painted in reflected light, so as to come as near as may be to Queen Elizabeth's shadowless ideal" (Armstrong: Notes on the National Gallery, p. 31). "No one who has not beheld this masterpiece of painting can form any conception," says Dr. Waagen, "of the transparency and brilliancy with which the local colours in the features and complexion, though under the shadow of a broad-brimmed hat, are brought out and made to tell, while the different parts are rounded and relieved, with the finest knowledge and use of reflected lights." The expression of the subject is as much a tour de force as the technical treatment--

I know a maiden fair to see, Take care!... She gives a side-glance and looks down, Beware! beware!... She has a bosom as white as snow, Take care! She knows how much it is best to show, Beware! beware! Trust her not, She is fooling thee!

LONGFELLOW: from the German.

The picture is a portrait of Susanne Fourment, an elder sister of Rubens's second wife, Helène Fourment. Susanne often sat to Rubens; other paintings and drawings of her by his hand exist. She afterwards married Arnold Lunden. The picture remained in the possession of the painter until his death, when it passed into that of Nicholas Lunden, who had married Isabella, a daughter of Rubens by his second wife, Helène Fourment. The picture remained in the Lunden family until 1822, when it was sold by auction for 36,000 florins and brought to England. After being offered in vain to George IV., it was bought by Sir Robert Peel for 3500 guineas. Why and when this picture of a lady in a beaver hat acquired the inappropriate title of "Chapeau de Paille" ("The Straw Hat"), by which it has hitherto been called, is unknown. Perhaps the title is a corruption of "Chapeau d'Espagne." An entirely different story about the picture was current in the Lunden family. According to this not very probable tradition, Miss Susanne had refused to sit to Rubens, so he painted her unawares whilst she was in her garden, wearing a large straw hat. When the picture was done, she pardoned the flattering indiscretion and accepted it as a gift. Rubens afterwards begged leave to take back the portrait, promising in return a work in which he would put all his talent. This was a replica of the same portrait, but instead of a straw hat (chapeau de paille) he introduced in the second version the beaver hat (chapeau de poil) that we see. The Lunden family had christened the original "Chapeau de Paille," and the present picture has ever since retained the same title. (See letter in the Times, August 6, 1886, from M. Jules Nollée de Noduwez, himself a connection of the Lunden family).

853. THE TRIUMPH OF SILENUS.

Rubens (Flemish: 1577-1640). See 38.

For the subject see under 93. "Rubens painted these subjects with a gusto in which there is something fearful, so wonderful is the skill, the felicity of execution, the life, the energy, the fancy displayed--so gross and so repulsive the sentiment. In Niccolo Poussin's Bacchanalian scenes we have the licence and the revels of gods and nymphs, and of the golden age. Rubens gives us, with perhaps a truer moral feeling but more depraved taste, mere animal sensuality, with all its most brutal attributes" (Mrs. Jameson's Handbook to the Private Galleries of London, p. 362). This picture was in the artist's possession at the time of his death, and was then bought for Cardinal Richelieu. It was afterwards in the collection of Sir Robert Peel, who gave £1100 for it.

853. a-p.

These sixteen drawings by Rubens formed part of the rich collection of Sir Thomas Lawrence, P.R.A., after whose death they were acquired for Sir Robert Peel. They were purchased for the nation in 1871 with the Peel Collection of pictures. The subjects are as follows:--

=853 a=, =b=, =c=, and =d=. Four studies for the famous picture at Munich, representing the "Fall of the Damned." In black chalk, tinted slightly. "Inconceivably fine," says Mrs. Jameson.

=853 e.= THE MARTYRDOM OF A SAINT.--He kneels, and a woman is about to bind his eyes. Fifteen figures with angels.

=853 f.= THE DESCENT OF THE HOLY GHOST.--Study for the picture at Munich.

=853 g.= THE CRUCIFIXION.--Drawing from the great picture at Antwerp, done for the engraver to work from.

=853 h.= PORTRAIT OF A GIRL; with a cap and feather. Study from one of his own children.

=853 i.= PORTRAIT OF A LADY, with flowers in her hair. Probably a study from his first wife. "Extremely fine," says Mrs. Jameson, "and full of life."

=853 j.= HEAD OF A LADY, in chalk and sepia, wonderfully spirited.

=853 k.= SKETCH FOR MONUMENTAL SCULPTURE, or design for a frontispiece--with a figure of "Fame."

=853 l.= THE SAME, with figures of Moses and Aaron.

=853 m.= THE SAME, with satyrs.

=853 n.= THE SAME, representing the siege of Breda: Minerva and Hercules, prisoners, implements of war, etc.

=853 o.= STUDY OF A LIONESS, introduced into his picture of "Daniel in the Lion's Den."

=853 p.= SKETCH OF A LION HUNT.--Study for the great picture at Dresden.

854. A FOREST SCENE.

Ruysdael (Dutch: 1628-1682). See 627.

Of this picture, when it was in Sir Robert Peel's collection, Mrs. Jameson tells a pretty tale. "'I cannot express to you,' said the statesman, 'the feeling of tranquillity, of restoration, with which, in an interval of harassing official business, I look around me here.' And while he spoke, in the slow, quiet tone of a weary man, he turned his eyes on a forest scene of Ruysdael, and gazed on it for a minute or two in silence, as if its cool, dewy verdure, its deep seclusion, its transparent waters stealing through the glade, had sent refreshment into his very soul" (Handbook to the Private Galleries of London, p. xix.).

855. A WATERFALL.

Ruysdael (Dutch: 1628-1682). See 627.

856. THE MUSIC-MASTER.

Jan Steen (Dutch: 1626-1679).

It is in the collections of Holland, and especially in the Museum of Amsterdam, that the best works of this remarkable painter are to be seen--a painter whose talent and occasional grace made Reynolds name him in the same breath with Raphael, and who has by other critics been called the Molière of painting. This latter comparison happily expresses the dramatic and intellectual quality of Steen's best works. He drew not merely Dutch life, but human nature. He depicts the comedy of human life, for the most part, in a spirit of genial toleration, but sometimes with touches of almost Hogarthian satire. With regard to technical qualities, his best works are admirable for their skilful composition, brilliant touch, and harmonious colouring. "Steen when it pleased him was an artist of great ability. Unfortunately it did not always please him to be so, and then his colour became blurred, his execution trivial, and the general aspect of his figures heavy and monotonous; but whenever he exerts himself he becomes once more and remains a great master. It is the more astonishing to find these defects, as they are peculiar neither to the beginning nor to the end of his career, and therefore cannot be attributed to a hard apprenticeship or premature decay. They are to be explained by the irregular life which the painter led" (Havard). The number of his works, however,--of which more than 500 have been catalogued--seem to negative the stories in which some biographers accept of Steen's drunken and dissolute life. He was the son of a brewer and was born at Leyden. He first studied under a German painter, Knüpfer, at Utrecht; afterwards with Adrian van Ostade, and Jan van Goyen whose daughter he married in 1649. In the previous year he had joined the Painters' Guild of Haarlem. That he was improvident is proved by records of executions for debt which have been discovered in the archives of that town. His pictures must have fetched small prices, for he contracted to pay the year's rent of his house for 1666-67 with three portraits "painted as well as he was able," the rent being 29 florins. In 1669 his wife and his father died, and Steen, who is supposed to have resided for some years at the Hague, returned to Leyden and opened a tavern, and for the rest of his life combined the businesses of painter and publican.

A work of some humour. The music-master is sadly bored with the exercises of his pupil at the harpsichord, but his disgust is fully shared by the young brother whose turn is to come next, and who is bringing a lute into the room. The picture is signed on the harpsichord.

857, 858, 859, 860. THE FOUR SEASONS.

Teniers (Flemish: 1610-1694). See 154.

Very interesting little pictures, as characteristic of the entire want of poetry in Teniers' art. Compare Mantegna's version of Summer and Autumn (1125), or recall Botticelli's lovely vision of Spring at Florence, and one sees in a moment the difference in art between poetical imagination and vulgarity. To Teniers, Spring--"the sweet spring, the year's pleasant king"--is only a man carrying a flower-pot. Summer--"all the sweet season of summertide"--suggests nothing but a man holding a wheat-sheaf. Autumn--"season of mists and mellow fruitfulness"--brings him only a first glass of wine; and Winter--"white winter, rough nurse, that rocks the dead cold year"--only a second. These pictures (which are painted on copper), were once in the possession of Prince Talleyrand, and Sir Robert Peel bought them in 1823 for £189.

861. A COUNTRY SCENE.

Teniers (Flemish: 1610-1694). See 154.

The man with the barrow is a portrait of Teniers' gardener.

862. THE SURPRISE.

Teniers (Flemish: 1610-1694). See 154.

Hardly an instance in which "vice itself loses half its evil by losing all its grossness." It is a very vulgar intrigue. The husband courts without passion; the maid-servant "stoops to folly" without grace; the wife surprises the lovers without dignity.

863. THE RICH MAN IN HELL.

Teniers (Flemish: 1610-1694). See 154.

The sequel to the story of Dives and Lazarus. "And it came to pass, that the beggar died, and was carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom: the rich man also died, and was buried. And in hell he lift up his eyes, being in torments" (Luke xvi. 22, 23). A favourite subject with Teniers, giving him an opportunity for painting comic monstrosities.

864. THE GUITAR LESSON.

Gerard Terburg (Dutch: 1617-1681).

Terburg is the most refined of all the Dutch painters of "conversation pieces." He depicts with admirable truth, both in his portraits and genre pictures, the life of the wealthy and cultured classes of his time. His figures are well drawn and expressive, and the accessories are duly subordinated. He renders the texture of draperies with great skill, and his colouring is at once rich and quiet. He was the son of a wealthy man, a traveller and a connoisseur who himself imparted the rudiments of art to his son. Gerard afterwards studied in Amsterdam and Haarlem. In 1635 he visited England, and thence made the grand tour of the Continent, studying the works of Titian and others. On his return to Holland he remained some time at Amsterdam, learning much from the works of Rembrandt. In 1646 he was at Münster, where he painted the famous picture, No. 896 in our Gallery. This excited such admiration on account of the excellence of its portraits and general truth to nature, that the Spanish ambassador took Terburg with him to Madrid, where he was knighted by Philip IV. and had the opportunity of adding a study of Velazquez to his artistic advantages. Terburg settled eventually at Deventer, where he married and became burgomaster: a full-length portrait of him in that capacity is in the Museum at the Hague.

This is a characteristic example of the painter's conversation pieces. Sir Robert Peel bought it in 1826 for 920 guineas.

865. A COAST SCENE.

Jan van de Cappelle (Dutch: painted about 1650-1680).

Of this painter, whose works have of recent years become popular with collectors, the Dutch writers have left no record. Nor has anything been discovered about him beyond the fact that, on the occasion of his marriage in 1653, he received the freedom of the city of Amsterdam. One may connect with this fact the state barge, introduced in some of his pictures,--or the corporation barge, it may be,--much resembling the barges belonging to the City and the City Companies which not long ago might still be seen on the Thames at London, and some of which survive, transformed into College barges at Oxford. Cappelle's works are comparatively rare; they show that he loved a calm sea, lit up with warm rays.

866. A STREET IN COLOGNE.

Jan van der Heyden (Dutch: 1637-1712).

Van der Heyden (or Heyde), who has been called, from the minute neatness of his workmanship, "the Dou of architectural painters,"[192] was one of the first Dutch artists to devote himself to that class of subject. It was a result no doubt of the Italianising tendency of the time. "It would seem that they required to be initiated in this style by the views of foreign market-places and squares with which the Italianising painters had decorated the saloons of Amsterdam, and that in the presence of this invasion of forums and piazzas they exclaimed, 'Have we not streets, squares, and monuments to paint?'" (Havard: The Dutch School, p. 238). Of course they had; and no works of the time are more interesting than these minute historical records. "A striking feature in Van der Heyden is the pencilling or dividing of the brickwork of the houses and walls by delicate white lines; so finely are these drawn that if it were not for the trouble, one might count the bricks in his buildings" (Seguier). But he had the art of combining this microscopic detail with breadth of effect. The division of labour in art work was in his time very fully applied; and Van der Heyden's range was very limited. He seldom turned his hand to anything but brick houses and churches in streets or squares, or rows along canals, or the moated granges common in his native country. He could draw neither man nor beast, and relied on Adrian van der Velde to enliven his street scenes with spirited figures. Van der Heyden was born at Gorcum, and was apprenticed to a glass-painter. He then moved to Amsterdam and studied architectural drawing. He visited England, Belgium, and the Rhenish Provinces. In the later part of his life he varied the practice of art with the pursuit of mechanics, for which he had a strong turn. He invented various improvements in the fire-engine, introduced the use of street-lamps, and at the time of his death was superintendent of the lighting and director of the firemen's company at Amsterdam.

In the background is seen the then unfinished tower of Cologne Cathedral surmounted by the old vane. This was a favourite subject of the painter; there is another version of it in the Wallace Collection. The figures are attributed to A. van de Velde.

867. THE FARM COTTAGE.

Adrian van de Velde (Dutch: 1636-1672).

Adrian, the son of William van de Velde the elder, the marine painter, first studied under his father, and next under Wynants, the landscape painter. He showed his talent very early. "Wynants," said that painter's wife, when the young Adrian entered his studio, "you have found your master." He afterwards studied the figure under Wouwerman. His talent was versatile, for he painted figures, animals, and landscapes with equal truth and refinement. His large canvases (e.g. No. 80 in the Wallace Collection) are hard, and leave the spectator cold; but his cabinet pictures are refined in outline and delicate in tone. He was fond of village scenery with cattle introduced, in which kind are several good examples in our Gallery. He was also successful in winter scenes. Of his sandy coast scenes there is a choice example in the Six Collection at Amsterdam. The value and interest of many pictures by Ruysdael, Van der Heyden, Hobbema, and other painters of the time, were enhanced by figures inserted by Adrian. He must have had wonderful facility and industry, for in addition to these insertions, and in spite of his short life, the catalogue of his own pictures includes nearly 200 items.

This picture is signed, and dated 1658. The effect is that of a fine warm summer afternoon.

868. THE FORD.

Adrian van de Velde (Dutch: 1636-1672). See 867.

"The figures and faces," says Mrs. Jameson in her catalogue of the Peel Collection, "are finished with inexpressible delicacy; the animals are painted with characteristic truth; the foliage of the trees seems stirred by the breeze;--in short, it is a most rare piece of work in every part, and full of pastoral sentiment, though there is certainly nothing Arcadian in the personages introduced." Sir Robert Peel bought the picture in 1840 for 760 gs.

869. A FROST SCENE.

Adrian van de Velde (Dutch: 1636-1672). See 867.

This picture--known as "Les Amusements d'Hiver"--is signed, and dated 1668. The men are playing hockey. Other figures are occupied with a sledge. On the left is a refreshment booth.

870. SHIPPING IN A CALM.

W. van de Velde (Dutch: 1633-1707). See 149.

A dogger, with hanging sail, in the foreground; behind it a frigate--"and a variety of vessels, at every different gradation of distance, carry the eye back to the horizon. The air and ocean are still as sleep. Signed, and dated 1657, when the painter was only 24."

871. BATHING AT LOW WATER.

W. van de Velde (Dutch: 1633-1707). See 149.

Incidentally a good study in the "philosophy of clothes." The painter hits off with much humour the essential difference between those who regard man as "by nature a naked animal"--seen in the naked bathers--and those who regard him as emphatically "a clothed animal"--seen in the prim old gentleman who gets himself carried on a man's back. Intermediate between these two classes are those who use clothes as a convenience, but are not entirely subject to them--such, for instance, is the comfortable old fellow smoking his pipe and wading home, not without obvious contempt for the old gentleman riding, as aforesaid, in ignominious slavery to his "Sunday best." Dated 1661; bought by Sir Robert Peel from the collection of the Duc de Berri.

872. A SLIGHT BREEZE.

W. van de Velde (Dutch: 1633-1707). See 149.

873. THE COAST OF SCHEVENINGEN.

W. van de Velde (Dutch: 1633-1707). See 149.

"A scene well known to those who have visited the Hague, and frequently represented by Van de Velde. There are the high sand-hills to the left, and above them are seen a few fishermen's huts and the little church of Scheveningen. Along the beach are numerous figures, variously grouped and employed; the most conspicuous are several persons near a post-waggon. The sea is quietly rolling in to the shore, impelled by a light breeze. The figures are painted with exquisite finish and spirit by Adrian van de Velde" (Mrs. Jameson). Sir Robert Peel bought this picture from the Pourtalès Collection for £800. It is a characteristic specimen of the master, showing how his version of the sea was coloured by that "mixture of sand and sea-water" which belongs to his native coasts. "I have come," writes Fromentin, "to Scheveningen. Before me is the calm, gray, fleecy North Sea. Who has not seen it? One thinks of Ruysdael, of Van Goyen, of Van de Velde. One easily finds their point of view. I could tell you the exact place where they sat, as if the trace of them had remained imprinted for two centuries: the sea is on the left; the ridged sand-hills stand out on the right, stretch away, diminish and are lost insensibly in the dim horizon; the grass is poor; the sand-hills are pale; the sea-shore is colourless; the sea is like milk; the sky has silky clouds and is wonderfully aerial."

874. A CALM AT SEA.

W. van de Velde (Dutch: 1633-1707). See 149.

A Dutch frigate and a small English cutter becalmed. "There is a repose in the air, a clearness in the still, smooth sea, quite indescribable" (Mrs. Jameson).

875. A LIGHT BREEZE.

W. van de Velde (Dutch: 1633-1707). See 149.

Two doggers in the foreground; behind one of them, a Dutch frigate.

876. A GALE.

W. van de Velde (Dutch: 1633-1707). See 149.

877. HIS OWN PORTRAIT.

Van Dyck (Flemish: 1599-1641). See 49.

That Van Dyck was at a very early age a portrait-painter of rare merit may be seen, from this likeness of himself while still quite young and beardless. In the Wallace Collection there is another early portrait of himself, in the character of Paris. Our picture is the portrait of an artist and a man of refinement. Notice especially the long, tapering fingers--delicate almost to the point of feminineness. They are very characteristic of Van Dyck's work, who, indeed, drew all his hands from one model: the same delicate fingers may be seen in the so-called "portrait of Rubens" (49). In giving this delicacy to all sitters Van Dyck fell no doubt into mannerism; in giving it to great artists such as himself he was entirely right. Palmistry assigns fine, tapering fingers to "artistic temperament," and rightly, for fine fingers are necessary for fine work. "The art of painting, properly so called, consists in laying on the least possible colour that will produce the required result; and this measurement, in all the ultimate--that is to say the principal--operations of colouring, is so delicate that not one human hand in a million has the required lightness" (Two Paths, Appendix iv., where much interesting matter on this subject will be found).

877 A. THE CRUCIFIXION.

877 B. RINALDO AND ARMIDA.

Van Dyck (Flemish: 1599-1641). See 49.

These drawings were bought with the Peel Collection. The former is the study for an altar-piece of the church of St. Michael at Ghent--"a most superb drawing," says Mrs. Jameson. The latter is a drawing prepared for the engraver, Peter de Jode, from the large picture of the subject in the Louvre. It was the sight of that picture that determined King Charles I. to secure the services of Van Dyck.

878. "THE PRETTY MILKMAID."

Philips Wouwerman (Dutch: 1619-1668).

Wouwerman--whose pictures may nearly always be told by a white horse, which is almost his sign-manual--is selected by Ruskin as the central instance of the "hybrid school of landscape." To understand this term we must recall his division of all landscape, in its relation to human beings, into the following heads: (1) Heroic, representing an imaginary world inhabited by noble men and spiritual powers--Titian; (2) Classical, representing an imaginary world inhabited by perfectly civilised men and inferior spiritual powers--Poussin; (3) Pastoral, representing peasant life in its daily work--Cuyp; (4) Contemplative, directed to observation of the powers of nature and record of historical associations connected with landscape, contrasted with existing states of human life--Turner. The hybrid school of which Berchem and Wouwerman are the chief representatives is that which endeavours to unite the irreconcilable sentiment of two or more of the above-mentioned classes. Thus here we have Wouwerman's conception of the heroic in the officers and in the rocky landscape; of the pastoral in the pretty milkmaid, to whom an officer is speaking, and who gives her name to the picture. So again the painter's desire to assemble all kinds of pleasurable elements may be seen in the crowded composition of an adjoining picture (879). Wouwerman is further selected by Ruskin as the chief type of vulgarity in art--meaning by vulgarity, insensibility. He introduces into his pictures--see, for instance, 879--every element that he thinks pleasurable, yet has not imagination enough to enter heartily into any of them. His pleasure is "without a gleam of higher things," and in his war-pieces there is "no heroism, awe or mercy, hope or faith." With regard, finally, to the execution, it is "careful and conscientious," the tone of his pictures generally dark and gray, the figures being thrown out in spots of light (Modern Painters, vol. v. pt. ix. ch. viii.). "There is no good painting," Ruskin says of a Wouwerman at Turin, "properly so called, anywhere, but of clever, dotty, sparkling, telling execution, as much as the canvas will hold" (ibid. § 8). Wouwerman was born at Haarlem; his father was a painter. From him Philips learnt the practice of art, afterwards studying landscape under Wynants. He worked for some time at Hamburg, in the studio of Everard Decker. In 1640 he returned to Haarlem, where he remained for the rest of his life. He had two brothers who were also painters. His productivity was enormous. He lived forty-nine years, and it has been calculated that even if we deny his authorship of one half the pictures ascribed to him, we leave him with at least 500, or about one for every three weeks during his productive years (Bryan's Dictionary of Painters). Few galleries are without several pictures by Wouwerman. In the Wallace Collection he is represented by six, in the Dulwich Gallery by ten.

The picture is known after the milkmaid whom the officer is chucking under the chin, whilst the trumpeter takes a sarcastic pleasure, we may suppose, in sounding all the louder the call "to arms."

879. THE INTERIOR OF A STABLE.

Wouwerman (Dutch: 1619-1668). See 878.

The profusion of pleasurable incident in this picture has already been noticed (see under 878) in connection with Wouwerman's bent of mind; but notice also how the crowded composition spoils the effect of a picture as a picture. Clearly also will it spoil the stable-keeper's business. He eyes the coin which one of his customers is giving him with all the discontent of a London cabman, and has no eye to spare for the smart lady with her cavalier, who are just entering the stable. This is a good instance of what has been called "Wouwerman's nonsense-pictures, a mere assemblage of things to be imitated, items without a meaning" (W. B. Scott: Half-hour Lectures on Art, p. 299).

880. ON THE SEA SHORE.

Wouwerman (Dutch: 1619-1668). See 878.

This picture was formerly in the collection of Queen Elizabeth of Spain, whose arms are stamped on the back. Sir Robert Peel bought it in 1823 for 450 guineas.

881. GATHERING FAGGOTS.

882. A LANDSCAPE.

Wouwerman (Dutch: 1619-1668). See 878.

883. A BEGGAR BY THE ROADSIDE.

Jan Wynants (Dutch: about 1615-1679).

Wynants--spelt also Wijnants--the painter of the sandy wayside, was one of the founders of the Dutch school of landscape, and was an artist of much originality. Out of a few docks and thistles, it has been said, a tree, and a sandbank, he could make a picture. "In the choice of his subjects Wijnants shows a preference," says Sir F. Burton, "for open scenery, where, under a sky of summer blue broken by illuminated cloud-masses, the undulating soil reveals its nature through beaten tracks and rugged roads with their shelving sides of gold-coloured sand, while trees are scattered thinly on the slopes. Or he loves the borders of the forest, where mighty tree-trunks, smitten by past storms, still extend some gnarled branches across the sky, or a fallen stem lies half imbedded amongst tall grasses and large-leaved plants. In such scenes Wynants is particularly attractive. They give us the poetry of form and light, as Ruisdael's deep pine-forests give us that of gloom and solitude." Of his life little is known. He was probably born about the year 1615, as his earliest pictures bear the dates 1641 and 1642. He was still living in 1679, as one of his paintings in the Hermitage of St. Petersburg bears that date. In October 1642 the registers of St. Luke's Guild at Haarlem mention a Jan Wijnants as dealer in works of art; this probably refers to the painter. He resided at Haarlem, and afterwards at Amsterdam. Wouwerman and A. van de Velde were among his scholars, the latter artist and others inserted figures in his pictures, for Wynants painted only landscape. The visitor will find good examples of him at Dulwich and Hertford House.

The picture is signed (on the trunk of the felled tree) and dated 1659. The figures in this and the next picture are ascribed to A. van de Velde.

884. SAND DUNES.

Jan Wynants (Dutch: about 1615-1679). See 883.

It is not uninteresting to notice--as strangely in keeping with the poor and hard country here depicted--that in nearly every picture by Wynants (see 883, 971, 972) there is a dead tree. That Dutch painters were alive to the beauties of vegetation, the oaks of Ruysdael are enough to show; but to Wynants at least nature seems to have been visible only as a destroying power, as a rugged and conflicting force, against which the sturdy Hollander had to battle for existence as best he might.

895. PORTRAIT OF A WARRIOR.

Piero di Cosimo (Florentine: 1462-1521). See 698.

Francesco Ferruccio, of whom this is said to be a portrait, was the Florentine general whose skill and patriotism shed a lustre on the final struggle of Florence against the combined forces of the Pope and the Emperor. He was then in command of the outlying possessions of Florence, and had there been a second Ferruccio within the city itself the fortune of war might have been different. Francesco was killed in a battle near Pistoia on August 3, 1530. In the background of this portrait there is a view of the Piazza della Signoria at Florence; and at the entrance door Michael Angelo's statue of David, which was placed there in 1504. The picture was formerly ascribed to Lorenzo Costa; the recognition of its true authorship is due to Dr. Richter and Dr. G. Frizzoni. The identification of the warrior with the celebrated general is considered doubtful by them (see Richter's Italian Art in the National Gallery, p. 36; and Frizzoni's Arte Italiana del Rinascimento, p. 252).

896. THE PEACE OF MÜNSTER.

Terburg (Dutch: 1617-1681). See 864.

One of the "gems" of the National Collection--"priceless" because not only of its great artistic merit, but of its unique historical interest. It is an exact representation by a contemporary Dutch painter of one of the turning-points in Dutch history--the ratification, namely, by the delegates of the Dutch United Provinces, on 15th May 1684, of the Treaty of Münster, with which the eighty years' war between Spain and the United Provinces was concluded, altogether to the advantage of the latter. The clerk (in a scarlet cloak) is reading the document. The plenipotentiaries are standing nearest to the table. Six of them, holding up the right hand, are the delegates of the United Provinces; two, with their right hands resting on an open copy of the Gospels, are the representatives of Spain. One of the Dutch delegates and one of the Spanish hold copies of the document, which they follow as it is being read by the clerk. The brass chandelier, it is interesting to note, still hangs in the hall at Münster. The painter has introduced his own portrait among the figures on the left, in three-quarter face, behind the officer who stands with one arm resting on the chair of the third Dutch delegate (counting from the left).

During his lifetime Terburg did not part with the picture. It passed at one time into the possession of Prince Talleyrand, and by a curious coincidence was hanging in the room of his hotel, under the view of the Allied Sovereigns, at the signing of the treaty of 1814. After several more changes of hands it was bought in 1868 by the late Marquis of Hertford for £8800--equivalent, the curious in such things may like to know, to nearly £24 per square inch of canvas; at his death it came into the possession of Sir Richard Wallace, who presented it to the nation in 1871. A curious story is told in this connection. At the De Morny sale in 1865 the picture had been sold for £1805. At the San Donato (or Demidoff) sale, three years later, Sir William Boxall, Director of the National Gallery, bid up to £6000 for it; but his mandate went no further, and his mortification was great when he found himself far outbid by the Marquis of Hertford. Three years later, an unknown gentleman, not too smartly dressed, was announced at the National Gallery, and began to open a small picture-case. Sir William was busy, and "could not go into the matter now." "But you had better just have a glance--I ask no more," said the stranger. Sir William refused. The stranger insisted. Boxall, struck dumb at the sight of the picture it had been his dream to add to the National Collection, raised his eyes to those of the visitor. "My name is Wallace," said the stranger quietly, "Sir Richard Wallace; and I came to offer this picture to the National Gallery." "I nearly fainted," said Boxall in recounting the story; "I had nearly refused 'The Peace of Münster,' one of the wonders of the world" (M. H. Spielmann: The Wallace Collection, p. 107).

901. A LANDSCAPE.

Jan Looten (Dutch: about 1618-1681).

Looten is said to have visited England in the reign of Charles II., in order (as a countryman of his explains) "to initiate the English into the beauties of Dutch landscape." The process was successful, for many large pictures by Looten are (or were) in English country-seats. The figures in his landscapes were sometimes painted by Berchem.

902. "THE TRIUMPH OF SCIPIO."

Andrea Mantegna (Paduan: 1431-1506). See 274.

One of the grisailles, or pictures in gray and brown, of which Mantegna in his later years painted very many, and to multiply which he took to engraving. In its subject the picture is a piece of ancient Rome. No other works of the time, it has been said, are so full of antique feeling as Mantegna's. Botticelli played with the art of the ancients and modernised it; Mantegna actually lived and moved in it (Woltmann and Woermann: History of Painting, translated by Clara Bell, ii. 378). Mantegna's classical scholarship, too, is abundantly shown in the details of this picture, which is full of allusions to Latin authors and history. The Triumph of Scipio, it may be briefly explained, consisted in his being selected by the Senate as "the worthiest man in Rome," by whom alone--so the oracle decreed--must Cybele, the Phrygian mother of the gods, be received. It was "an honour," says Livy, with the fine patriotism of Rome, "more to be coveted than any other which the Senate or people could bestow." On the left, the image of the goddess is being borne on a litter, and with it the sacred stone alleged to have fallen from heaven. It was an unusual fall of meteoric stones that had caused the Romans to consult the oracle in B.C. 204, during Hannibal's occupation of Italy, and the oracle had answered that the Phrygian mother must be brought to Rome. This goddess, worshipped under different forms in many parts of the world, was a personification of the passive generative power in nature, and from this time forward she was included among the recognised divinities of the Roman State. In the centre of the picture Scipio and his retinue are receiving her; whilst Claudia, a Roman lady, has thrown herself before the image. Some slur had attached to her reputation, but she had proved her innocence by invoking the goddess and then drawing off from a shoal in the harbour of Ostia, with the aid of only a slight rope, the vessel which bore the sacred image.

"The picture," says Sir F. Burton, "has a history of its own. It was undertaken towards the close of Mantegna's long and laborious career; and when that career terminated in the sadness and gloom which have too often awaited those whose imaginative powers had placed them above their fellow-men, it remained in his studio, probably not fully finished. It may have been the last, it was certainly one of the last, pictures which his pencil touched." An advance payment of 25 ducats had been made to Mantegna in 1504. His son Francesco made an unsuccessful claim to it as an inheritance from his father, offering to repay the amount received in advance. The picture, representing an event glorious in the history of the Scipios, was commissioned by a Venetian nobleman, Francesco Cornaro, in order to throw lustre upon the genealogy of his family, which claimed to belong to the Roman gens Cornelia.

903. CARDINAL FLEURY.

Hyacinthe Rigaud (French: 1659-1743).

Rigaud was a native of Perpignan, and the son and grandson of a painter. In 1681 he went up to Paris, and following the advice of Le Brun devoted himself to portraiture. He studied diligently the works of Van Dyck, whose disciple he always professed to be. He rapidly obtained fame as a portrait-painter, but it was not till 1700--on the completion of his "St. Andrew" now in the Louvre--that he was admitted as an historical painter into the Academy. He held various offices in that body, and painted all the great men of his day. His own portrait by himself is in the Uffizi.

A portrait of the famous tutor, and afterwards prime minister, of Louis XV. It is eminently the "pacific Fleury," who strove to keep France out of war and starved her army and navy when she was forced into it, that we see in this amiable old gentleman--the scholar and member of the Academy, who completed what is now the National Library of France--rather than the statesman. A similar picture is in the Wallace Collection (No. 130).

904. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Gregorio Schiavone (Paduan: painted about 1470). See 630.

905. THE MADONNA IN PRAYER.

Cosimo Tura (Ferrarese: 1420-1495). See 772.

Tura's type of the Madonna is perhaps the least pleasing in the whole range of Italian art.

906. THE MADONNA IN ECSTASY.

Carlo Crivelli (Venetian: painted 1468-1493). See 602.

The latest of Crivelli's dated pictures in the Gallery (1492), and remarkable for the deep colours which mark the artist's highest powers. Notice the usual hanging fruit and the pot of roses and carnations. The Virgin looks up to the Almighty and the dove, while two angels, with a scroll, support a crown over her head. On the scroll are inscribed (in Latin) the words, "As I was conceived in the mind of God from the beginning, so was I also made."

The masterpiece known as "The Virgin in Ecstasy," rather presents (as the text shows) the idea which is the foundation of the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception, combined with the "Coronation" of the glorified mother. It is intended, in fact, to bring before us not the historical mother of Christ so much as that mediæval conception of the mystical being of Ecclesiasticus and the Book of Wisdom, existing from all time in the mind of God as the instrument of the Incarnation, and returning to share the glory of her divine Son. Crivelli has expressed with rare distinction that combination of humility and awe with a sense of personal dignity which befits this ideal of the Virgin. In herself she is an imposing figure, but she is absorbed in the divine influences which mould her destiny. Never did Crivelli come nearer to the grand style than in this magnificent conception (Rushforth's Crivelli, p. 75).

907. ST. CATHERINE AND ST. MARY MAGDALENE.

Carlo Crivelli (Venetian: painted 1468-1493). See 602.

The figure of St. Mary Magdalene, with the vase of precious ointment, is characteristic of the painter's more affected style; notice especially the fingers elongated to the point of grotesqueness.

908. THE NATIVITY OF CHRIST.[193]

Piero della Francesca (Umbrian: 1416-1492). See 665.

"This painting is said to be unfinished. But even minute details, such as the pearls on the robes of the angels and on the head-dress of the Virgin, have been worked out with an accuracy which excites astonishment. One of the two shepherds, standing on the right side and seen in front, appears to have no pupils to his eyes, and this strange fact might account for the theory of the unfinished state of the picture. On the other hand it seems to me to have suffered very much from repainting in all the flesh parts.... The restorer has, I believe, forgotten to paint in the pupils of the shepherd's eyes after having destroyed them by the cleaning of the original painting" (Richter's Italian Art in the National Gallery, pp. 16, 17). The beauty of the picture is in the choir of angels with their mouths in different attitudes of singing, making such music sweet

As never was by mortal finger strook-- Divinely-warbled voice Answering the stringèd noise, As all their souls in blissful rapture took.

MILTON: Hymn on Christ's Nativity.

"The picture is a masterpiece" says Mr. Hipkins, "in musical delineation. It is the perfectly expressed singing of these characteristic angels that arrests attention first; but the archæologist in musical instruments values the two large lutes held by the outside angels of the group, who are accompanying the singers. The splendid lines and fine dimensions of these instruments suggest their sonorous tone. When this picture came from the Barker Collection, each lute had eleven strings, and the number of pegs in one of them seems to have this number; but in cleaning the picture the strings have disappeared. As the picture was not finished by the painter, it is supposed that the strings were a later addition. However, the number was right, according to the practice with large lutes at that time, to give six open notes; the highest, or melody, string being open"[194] (The Hobby Horse, No. 1, 1893). "The figures of the Virgin and Child are of the gentlest and fairest type, and show undoubted signs of the Flemish influence, which made itself felt in Florence and throughout Central Italy after Hugo van der Goes set up his great altar-piece in the Ospedale of Santa Maria Novella" (W. G. Waters: Piero della Francesca p. 64).

This picture was formerly in the possession of the Marini-Franceschi family, of Borgo San Sepolcro, descendants of the painter. The wings and the predella once belonging to it are in the cathedral of that city.

909. THE MADONNA OF THE WHITE ROSE.

Benvenuto da Siena (Sienese: 1436-1518).

The earliest known work by this painter is an Annunciation, painted in 1466, in the church of S. Girolamo at Volterra. He executed some of the illuminations of the choir-books, and designed portions of the pavement, in the cathedral of Siena. He was the son of a mason.

A charming combination of older and newer "motives." There is the gold background, true to the old Sienese traditions, but there are also the little fiddling angels, so common in Venetian and other pictures of the time of Benvenuto's later years. In the compartments on either side are St. Peter, and St. Nicholas of Bari (with various adornments referring to his story: see under 1171).

910. THE TRIUMPH OF CHASTITY.

Luca Signorelli (Cortona: 1441-1523). See under 1128.

In the foreground Cupid on his knees is bound by maidens; in the distance there are other two groups, in one of which the god of love is being captured, in the other he is led away in triumph with his arms pinioned behind him. This painting is a fresco which was transferred to canvas from the wall of a palace at Siena. It was injured in the process, and has been badly restored. It is signed LUCAS CORITIUS, and according to the official catalogue, "the hand of the master is visible enough in the less damaged parts." According to other authorities, the inscription is forged, and the picture "a weak production by Genga," Signorelli's assistant at Orvieto (Richter's Italian Art in the National Gallery, p. 49).

911. ULYSSES AND PENELOPE.

Pinturicchio (Umbrian: 1454-1513). See 693.

Penelope was wife of Ulysses, King of Ithaca, whose wanderings after the Trojan war are told in Homer's "Odyssey," and shown in summary in the distance of this picture. Through the open window is seen the ship of Ulysses, with the hero bound to the mast; the sirens, whose coasts he passed unhurt, are sporting in the sea; and on an island near is the palace of Circe, who changed his companions into swine. In his absence Penelope was beset by many suitors, such as are here seen clad in joyous raiment, and was in sore straits to resist their importunity. But "some god put it into my heart to set up a great web in the halls, and thereat to weave a robe fine of woof and very wide; and-anon I spake among them, saying: 'Ye princely youths, my wooers, now that goodly Odysseus is dead, do ye abide patiently, how eager soever to speed on this marriage of mine, till I finish the robe ... even this shroud for the hero Laertes, father of Odysseus, against the day when the deadly doom shall bring him low, of death that lays men at their length.' ... So spake I, and their high hearts consented thereto. So then in the daytime I would weave the mighty web, and in the night unravel the same" (xix. 138-150: Butcher and Lang's translation). And for the space of three years Penelope's web was still unwoven, and the suitors were deceived; but afterwards, when they chid her loudly, she finished the web, and could neither escape marriage nor devise any further counsel, for that her son too chafed while the suitors devoured his livelihood. But Ulysses then returned; he is now in the doorway just entering; and presently Penelope will take down her husband's bow--now hanging with a quiver of arrows above her head--which the suitors could not bend, but was bent by Ulysses.

The painter makes no attempt at archæological reconstruction; he gives us a picture of the costumes of his own day. This vivacious picture is a fresco transferred to canvas. It was painted in the Pandolfo Petrucci Palace at Siena, which also Signorelli's "Triumph of Chastity" once decorated (now 910 in our Gallery).

912, 913, 914. THE STORY OF GRISELDA.

Umbrian School: 15th-16th century.

On these three panels (formerly ascribed to Pinturicchio),[195] which were probably destined to serve as decorations to a chest, the story of Griselda is told with much naïve awkwardness of drawing, but also with much naïve playfulness of incident. The story, told in Boccaccio's Decameron, and by Petrarch, is also to be found in Chaucer's Clerkes Tale.

In the first picture (912) we see (1) on the extreme left the Marquis of Saluzzo, who is out hunting with a great retinue. He meets Griselda, a peasant girl, who is drawing water at the well, and falls in love with her. Next (2) on the extreme right is her humble barn-like dwelling, with the marquis serenading his love from below. (3) He carries her off with him; and note how Griselda, who is to be modest and humble to the end, hangs her head in "maiden shamefacedness." (4) Then the marquis has her attired in gold and fine linen, fit for a prince's bride. Her pattens and perhaps her garters are lying discarded beside her. And so (5), in the centre of the picture, all is ready for the wedding:

This markis hath hir spoused with a ring Brought for the same cause, and then hir sette Upon an hors, snow-whyt and wel ambling.

Before the second act (913) a few years are supposed to have elapsed. (1) On the left Griselda's two children--a boy and a girl--(in the likeness of two very wooden dolls) are being carried off, as if by a villain in a transpontine tragedy. They are supposed to have since died miserably. (2) The marquis tires of his love for Griselda, and is divorced: in the centre of the picture we see her giving back the wedding ring. (3) Then she is stripped of her fine clothes, and (4) sent away to her father's house, but

"The smok," quod he, "that thou hast on thy bak, Lat it be stille, and ber it forth with thee."

Two young gallants, in absurd attitudes, look on in half-pitying amusement, while nearer to us two serving-men are disgusted at the cruel shame. (5) On the extreme right she is at home again, tending, as before, her father's sheep.

In the last act (914), a grand banquet is prepared for the marquis's second wedding, and Griselda is sent for to the castle to do menial work. On the left we see her sweeping; on the right she is waiting at table. Then, on the left again, it is discovered that the marquis's new bride is none other than Griselda's long-lost daughter, accompanied by her brother. They had all the while been tended in a distant city with the utmost care. Griselda is thereupon affectionately embraced by her husband, publicly reinstated in her proper position, and presented to all the court as a model of wifely obedience and patience--

No wedded man so hardy be tassaille His wyues pacience, in hope to fynde Grisildes, for in certein he shal faille! O noble wyues, ful of heigh prudènce, Lat non humilitee your tongë naille.

915. MARS AND VENUS.

Botticelli (Florentine: 1447-1510). See 1034.

So the picture is usually called--Mars, the God of War, asleep, and the young satyrs playing with his discarded armour, while one of them attempts to rouse him by blowing a shell. The subject is almost identical with that which Spenser draws in the Faërie Queene, where Sir Guyon, the Knight of Purity, overthrows the Bower of Bliss in which Acrasia (or Pleasure) dwells--the last and worst of Sir Guyon's trials, for "it is harder to fight against pleasure than against pain." Note especially the expression of the sleeping youth: he is overcome with brutish paralysis, and they cannot awaken him. Note also the swarm of hornets issuing from the tree-trunk by his head--significant of the power that sensual indulgence has of venomously wounding. Visitors who have been in Venice may remember similar details in Carpaccio's picture of St. George and the Dragon (J. R. Anderson in St. Mark's Rest, Second Supplement, p. 20).

Upon a bed of Roses she was layd, As faint through heat, or dight to pleasant sin; And was arrayd, or rather disarrayd, All in a vele of silke and silver thin, That hid no whit her alabaster skin ... The young man, sleeping by her, seemd to be Some goodly swayne of honorable place, That certes it great pitty was to see Him his nobility so fowle deface ... His warlike armes, the ydle instruments Of sleeping praise, were hong upon a tree ... Ne for them ne for honour cared hee, Ne ought that did to his advauncement tend; But in lewd loves, and wastfull luxuree, His dayes, his goods, his bodie, he did spend: O horrible enchantment, that him so did blend!

Faërie Queene, bk. ii. 12, §§ lxxvii.-lxxx.

It has been suggested by Dr. Richter that the subject of the picture is not mythological, but an illustration of Angelo Poliziano's poem, "Stanze per la Giostra," "The Song of the Tournament," written in 1476 in glorification of Giuliano de' Medici, who had entered the lists in the preceding year, at the tournament given in honour of Simonetta Cattaneo. In this poem, Giuliano appears as a youth enamoured of the chase, and contemptuous of women. Cupid determines that he shall fall a prey to a pair of lovely eyes, and leads him to the presence of Simonetta. But night falls and Simonetta vanishes, whereupon Venus sends Giuliano a dream in which he is exhorted to enter the lists in honour of his lady-love. He foreknows that victory will crown his arms, and that love will reward his valour, but these joyful tidings are black with the shadow of death, for early in 1476 Simonetta died. According to Dr. Richter's interpretation, Giuliano in the picture before us lies sunk in deepest sleep. The little satyrs are whispering dreams into his ears, dreams from the realms of Venus. In his dreams, Giuliano is overcome with fear, because his lady is clad in the armour of Pallas: he cannot brook the gleam of her helmet and her lance. But Cupid whispers: "Lift thine eyes, Giuliano, to that flame which with its radiance blinds thee like a sun; for she it is who quickens noble minds, and from the breast all evil thoughts expels." He dreams again; a goddess comes to his aid leading him to battle and to victory. She divests his lady of the armour of Pallas, and leaves her robed in white (Lectures on the National Gallery, p. 51). The poem[196] may thus be made to fit the picture. It may, however, be questioned whether the action of the little Cupids is not more appropriate to the accepted theory which sees in the armour the discarded weapons of a Mars or a knight, and Count Plunkett (Sandro Botticelli, pp. 44-5) refers to a passage in Lucian, with whose dialogues Botticelli was familiar. In describing a picture by Aëtion of the "Nuptials of Alexander and Roxana," Lucian describes how "on one side of it little Cupids play among Alexander's armour; two are carrying his spear, as porters do a heavy beam; two more grasp the handles of a shield, tugging it along with another reclining on it ... and then another has got into the breastplate.... All this is not idle fancy, on which the painter has been lavishing needless pains; he is hinting that Alexander has also another love, in War."

916. VENUS WITH CUPIDS.

School of Botticelli (Florentine: 1447-1510). See 1034. See also (p. xx)

The expression of melancholy characteristic of Botticelli's Madonnas is not absent from his heathen goddesses either. Notice also the roses--the painter's favourite flower (see 226). This picture is probably only a work of his school; the figure of the goddess is a not very successful repetition of the one in 915. The subject of the picture recalls the description of Simonetta in Poliziano's poem:--

White is the maid, and white the robe around her, With buds and roses and thin grasses pied; Enwreathèd folds of golden tresses crowned her, Shadowing her forehead fair with modest pride; The wild wood smiled; the thicket, where he found her, To ease his anguish, bloomed on every side: Serene she sits, with gesture queenly mild, And with her brow tempers the tempests wild.

SYMONDS's Translation.

920. ORPHEUS.

Roelandt Savery (Dutch: 1576-1639).

Savery, a painter of Courtrai, was instructed by his brother at Amsterdam. His works show the influence of Jan Breughel. He visited France in the reign of Henry IV., by whom he was employed in the royal palaces. He was subsequently invited to Prague by the Emperor Rudolph II., in whose service he spent several years.

A not very poetical rendering of the poetical legend of the power of music:--

You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze By the sweet power of music: therefore the poet Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods; Since naught so stockish, hard, and full of rage, But music for the time doth change his nature.

Merchant of Venice, Act v. Sc. 1.

923. A VENETIAN SENATOR.

Andrea Solario (Lombard: about 1460-1520). See 734.

This picture "was ascribed to Giovanni Bellini before it entered the National Gallery, and dilettanti might well mistake it for a work of Antonello da Messina. There seems to be little doubt that the picture was painted by Solario at Venice, where he went in 1490 in company of his brother.... The firmly drawn portrait of the senator, with its minutely executed landscape in the background, reveals plainly that he there became an ardent follower of Antonello" (Richter's Italian Art in the National Gallery, p. 99).

924. A GOTHIC INTERIOR

Pieter Neeffs (Flemish: 1577-about 1661).

This eminent architectural painter belonged to a family of Antwerp artists. He was a pupil of Hendrick Steenwyck the elder. "He did for the Roman Catholic churches of Antwerp that which, thirty years later, and with greater talent, a more flowing brush, and a better understanding of chiaro-oscuro, Emmanuel de Witte (see 1053) was destined to do for the Protestant churches of Delft. Neeffs took special delight in the representation of night scenes, torchlight funeral services, and the like. Teniers and Velvet Breughel themselves often assisted him in these small canvases, thus bearing testimony to the high esteem in which Neeffs was held by his colleagues" (Wauters, The Flemish School, p. 342.)

A group of figures is inspecting a conspicuous Renaissance tomb. Notice the dogs among the visitors.

927. AN ANGEL ADORING.

Filippino Lippi (Florentine: 1457-1504). See 293.

And with the morn those angel faces smile, Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.

CARDINAL NEWMAN.

This exquisite fragment once belonged to Sir Augustus Callcott, R.A.

928. APOLLO AND DAPHNE.

Ascribed to Pollajuolo (Florentine: 1429-1498). See 292.

The Greeks, seeing the perpetual verdure of the laurel, personified it in the story of Apollo and Daphne (= laurel), which told how the sun-god was enamoured of her. But she, praying to be delivered from his pursuit, was changed by the gods into a laurel--her two arms are here sprouting, just as the god has caught her in his embrace; and he, crowning his head with the leaves, ordained that the tree should for ever bloom and be sacred to his divinity (see further for the story of Apollo and Daphne under 520). The fact that Phoebus Apollo was also the god of song has suggested a pretty adaptation of the legend to the case of poets who sing for love and earn the laurel wreath--

Yet, what he sung in his immortal strain, Though unsuccessful, was not sung in vain: All, but the Nymph that should redress his wrong, Attend his passion and approve his song. Like Phoebus thus, acquiring unsought praise, He catched at love, and filled his arms with bays.

WALLER.

929. THE "BRIDGEWATER MADONNA."

Copy after Raphael. See under 1171.

This is an ancient copy, probably by a Flemish painter, of the original, which is in the possession of the Earl of Ellesmere at Bridgewater House. It belongs to Raphael's second or Florentine period, and its exquisite grace has caused it to be known by some writers as "La Plus Belle des Vierges."

930. THE GARDEN OF LOVE.

School of Giorgione (Venetian: 16th century). See 269.

Certainly not by Giorgione,[197] but a characteristic example of a class of composition of which, as we have seen, he was the inventor--one of those Venetian pastorals in which young men and women "disport in the open air, amuse themselves at random" (Asolando).

931. THE MAGDALEN.

Paolo Veronese (Veronese: 1528-1588). See 26.

The Magdalen--she who had sinned much, but who was forgiven because she loved much--is represented at the Saviour's feet, laying aside her jewels, and thus renouncing the vanities of the world.

932. A KNIGHT OF MALTA.

Unknown (Italian: 16th century).

Formerly ascribed to Sebastiano del Piombo.

933. BOY WITH A BIRD.

Padovanino (Venetian: 1590-1650). See 70.

Contrast with this child caressing a dove Baroccio's Christ teasing a bird. Padovanino lived much at Venice, and shared perhaps the Venetian's fondness for pigeons--the sacred birds of St. Mark's, which are kept and fed in the great square to this day at the public charge.

934. VIRGIN AND CHILD.

Carlo Dolci (Florentine: 1616-1686).

Carlo Dolci, the son of a Florentine tailor, is, like his contemporary Sassoferrato, a good instance of the affected religious school described in our introduction to the Later Italian Schools. He was of a very retiring and pious disposition, much given, we are told, to melancholy. Every one who looks first at the pictures of similar subjects by earlier Italian artists will be struck by something sentimental and effeminate in Dolci's conceptions. Similarly in his execution there is an over-smoothness and softness, corresponding to "polished" language in literature (see Modern Painters, vol. iii. pt. iv. ch. ix. § 7). In the Dulwich Gallery is a St. Catherine of Siena which is one of Dolci's chefs d'oeuvre.

935. A RIVER SCENE.

Salvator Rosa (Neapolitan: 1615-1673). See 84.

936. THE FARNESE THEATRE, PARMA.

Ferdinando Bibiena (Bolognese: 1657-1743).

Ferdinando Galli, called Bibiena, was one of a family of artists who came from a place of that name in the Bolognese State. He was a celebrated architect and scenic artist. He was engaged at many of the European courts in the arrangement of state pageants. He executed several works for Ranuccio Farnese, Duke of Parma. His architectural and perspective views are to be seen in the principal galleries in Italy. In these the figures are usually painted by his brother Francesco. Ferdinando, who published several works on architecture, became blind in his old age.

A scene in the theatre with Othello being played. The pit is unseated; it is a kind of "promenade play."

937. VENICE: SCUOLA DI SAN ROCCO.

Canaletto[198] (Venetian: 1697-1768). See 127.

The principal building is the Scuola of the religious fraternity of St. Roch--"an interesting building of the early Renaissance (1517), passing into Roman Renaissance," and, "as regards the pictures it contains (by Tintoret), one of the three most precious buildings in Italy" (Stones of Venice, Venetian Index). From the adjoining Church of St. Roch, the Holy Thursday procession of the Doges and Officers of State, together with the members of the Fraternity, is advancing under an awning on its way to St. Mark's. Notice the carpets hung out of the windows--a standing feature, this, in Venetian gala decorations from very early times (see, for instance, No. 739).[199] Notice, also, the pictures displayed in the open air--a feature which well illustrates the difference between the later "easel pictures" and the earlier pictures intended to serve as architectural decorations. "A glance at this picture is sufficient to show how utterly the ordinary oil painting fails when employed as an architectural embellishment. Pictures which were to adorn and form part of a building had to consist of figures, separated one from another, all standing in simple and restful attitudes, and all plainly relieved against a light ground" (Conway: Early Flemish Artists, p. 270). Apart from one of the conditions of early art thus suggested, the picture is interesting as showing how in the eighteenth century in Italy, as in the thirteenth, art was part and parcel of the life of the people. Cimabue's pictures were carried in procession; and here in Canaletto's we see Venetian "old masters" hung out to assist in the popular rejoicing.

938. VENICE: REGATTA ON THE GRAND CANAL.

Canaletto (Venetian: 1697-1768). See 127.

A state regatta--a pastime which owes its origin to Venice--in honour of the visit to the city of the King of Denmark in 1709. In the centre of the canal are the gondoliers, racing; to the sides are moored the spectators, the gala barges of the nobles conspicuous amongst them. The variegated building on the left is a temporary pavilion for the distribution of prizes. These regattas at Venice took the place of our royal processions here. "Wherever the eye turned, it beheld a vast multitude at doorways, on the quays, and even on the roofs. Some of the spectators occupied scaffoldings erected at favourable points along the sides of the canal; and the patrician ladies did not disdain to leave their palaces, and, entering their gondolas, lose themselves among the infinite number of the boats" (Feste Veneziane: quoted in Howells's Venetian Life, ii. 69). Another custom in which we have begun to imitate the Venetians, and which may be seen in this picture, is that of hanging out carpets and stuffs by way of decorations. "The windows and balconies," says the same account, "were decked with damasks, stuffs of the Levant, tapestries, and velvets;" a very old Venetian custom: see under 937.

939, 940. VENICE: THE PIAZZETTA, AND THE DUCAL PALACE.

Canaletto (Venetian: 1697-1768). See 127.

Canaletto's representation of the central spot of Venice. In 939 is the Piazzetta, the little Piazza or square, in front the church of St. Mark, with its bell towers; on the left are the mint and library; on the right is the ducal palace. This appears again in 940, with the famous column of St. Mark, patron saint of Venice, while beyond it is the Ponte della Paglia, the prisons, and the Riva degli Schiavoni.

941. VENICE: THE GRIMANI PALACE.

Canaletto (Venetian: 1697-1768). See 127.

This palace, situated on the Grand Canal and used until lately as the post-office, was built in the sixteenth century by San Micheli, and is "the principal type at Venice, and one of the best in Europe, of the central architecture of the Renaissance schools--that carefully studied and perfectly executed architecture to which those schools owe their principal claim to our respect, and which became the model of most of the important works subsequently produced by civilised nations.... It is composed of three stories of the Corinthian order (i.e. in which the ornament is concave, distinguished from Doric, in which it is convex), at once simple, delicate, and sublime; but on so colossal a scale that the three-storied palaces on its right and left only reach to the cornice which marks the level of its first floor" (Stones of Venice, vol. iii. ch. ii. §§ 1, 2). Buildings in the same style in London are St. Paul's and Whitehall.

942. ETON COLLEGE.

Canaletto (Venetian: 1697-1768). See under 127.

Painted during the artist's first English visit, 1746-1748, perhaps in the same year (1747) that Gray published his well-known ode--

Ye distant spires, ye antique towers That crown the watery glade, Where grateful Science still adores Her Henry's holy shade.

943. A PORTRAIT.

Unknown (Early Flemish: 15th century). See also (p. xx)

This portrait, which is dated 1462, was formerly supposed to be Memlinc's portrait of himself, in the costume of the Hospital of St. John at Bruges, but is now called by others Bouts's own portrait. "It is," says Sir W. Armstrong (Notes on the National Gallery, p. 28), "pretty surely the work of Dirck Bouts. Compare it with the Madonna numbered 774, and ascribed to Van der Goes. In conception, in chord of colour, in technical manner, the similarity is so complete between them as to leave room, in my mind, for very little doubt as to the identity of their authors. And this Madonna is by Dirck Bouts, as no one who has examined his 'Last Supper' in the Church of St. Pierre at Louvain can doubt.... Sir Martin Conway, who was the first, I fancy, to recognise Bouts in all three of these pictures, drew my attention to a curious peculiarity of his: he goes out of his way to paint hands. In his 'Last Supper' many hands are displayed that might quite naturally have been hidden, and we find the same thing in this portrait." Whether of Memlinc or of Bouts, the face bespeaks a gentle, humble, pious, laborious soul. The painting of the hair is especially remarkable. It is touched with the utmost minuteness, and yet the silky, flowing texture is conveyed with the utmost freedom. This picture was formerly in the possession of Samuel Rogers.

944. TWO USURERS.

Marinus van Romerswael (Flemish: about 1497-1573).

Marinus of Romerswael (his birthplace), also called "de Zeeuw" (the Zeelander), was fond of this subject, the composition of which he seems to have borrowed from Quentin Metsys, by whom also similar pictures are common. In early life Marinus was apprenticed to a glass-painter at Antwerp. Nothing is known of his later life till towards its close, when he was residing at Middelburg. "There, in 1566, in an iconoclastic outburst of the populace, the churches of the town were wrecked; and Marinus was accused before the tribunals of taking part in the spoliation of the Westmonsterkerk. Being held guilty, he was condemned on the 25th of June 1567 to perform an ignominious public penance and to be banished from Middelburg for the space of six years. An aged man then, he can scarcely have survived his term of exile" (see authorities cited in the Official Catalogue).

One inserts items in a ledger; the other puzzles over the particulars of some business transaction. It is a powerful realisation of what Ruskin calls the New Beatitude, "Blessed are the merciless, for they shall obtain money." "The picture is remarkable," says Sir Edward Poynter, "not only for its marvellous finish, and the energy of the expressions, but for its luminous quality and the purity of the colour."

945. ST. AGNES ADORING.

Joachim Patinir (Early Flemish: died 1524). See 715.

St. Agnes, the young martyr virgin,--attired as a

Pensive nun, devout and pure, Sober, steadfast, and demure,--

kneels before the infant Christ, "for knowest thou not that Agnes has been a Christian from her infancy upwards, and the husband to whom she is betrothed is no other than Jesus Christ?" The infant Christ holds a coral rosary in his hand, for he would crown her with jewels compared with which all earthly gifts are as dross. "It chanced that the son of the prefect of Rome beheld her one day as he rode through the city, and became violently enamoured, and desired to have her for his wife. He asked her in marriage of her parents, but the maiden repelled all his advances. Then he brought rich presents, bracelets of gold and gems, and rare jewels and precious ornaments, and promised her all the delights of the world if she would consent to be his wife. But she rejected him and his gifts, saying, Away from me, tempter! for I am already betrothed to a lover who is greater and fairer than any earthly suitor. To him I have pledged my faith, and he will crown me with jewels, compared to which thy gifts are dross" (MRS. JAMESON: Sacred and Legendary Art, p. 356.)

946. A MAN'S PORTRAIT.

Mabuse (Flemish: about 1470-1541). See 656.

On the back of this picture is the brand of Charles I., a crown with C. R.

947. A PORTRAIT.

Unknown (Flemish School).

Formerly hung with the French pictures. Now ascribed to the Flemish School of the 15th or early 16th century.

948. LANDSCAPE: A SKETCH.

Rubens (Flemish: 1577-1640). See 38.

949. LANDSCAPE WITH GIPSIES.

950. VILLAGE GOSSIPS.

951. THE GAME OF BOWLS.

David Teniers, the elder (Flemish: 1582-1649).

This artist is less memorable for his own works, which are mediocre, than as the founder of a family of painters (see Wauters: The Flemish School, p. 299), and the father of the celebrated David Teniers (the younger). He was a member of the Antwerp Guild of Painters, but spent ten years at Rome, where he came under the influence of Adam Elsheimer. The elder Teniers was the master of his son, who carried on his style, so that it is not always easy to distinguish their several pictures. In their own time father and son were equally appreciated. There is a large number of works by the elder Teniers in the Dulwich Gallery. On the whole they are browner in tone than those of the younger painter.

952. "THE VILLAGE FÊTE."

David Teniers (Flemish: 1610-1694). See 154.

So the picture is usually called, but the subject seems rather to be a pilgrimage to some holy shrine or miraculous well. A cross is seen on the right; the priest in charge of the pilgrimage stands somewhat lower down; on the left is a man selling little memorial flags with crosses on them. The hungry travellers are waiting for the meal which is being prepared for them in several huge cauldrons. The town of Antwerp is seen in the distance. This picture, dated 1643, is among the best works of Teniers, and includes 150 figures. "Truth in physiognomy, distribution of groups, the beautiful effect of light and shade, command," says Hymans, "our warmest admiration." In the foreground are Teniers and his party, with his little boy leading a greyhound, and the girl of this party is almost the only pleasant face in the picture. The painter, one begins to suspect, had not much real sympathy with his "village scenes" after all; and perhaps the demand for such scenes on the part of his aristocratic patrons was only a kind of vicarious "slumming"--an anticipation of the fashionable craze of a later age.

953. THE TOPER.

David Teniers (Flemish: 1610-1694). See 154.

This picture is signed with a T. within a D., which is the signature of the elder Teniers.

But, lo, a Teniers woos, and not in vain, Your eyes to revel in a livelier sight: His bell-mouth'd goblet makes one feel quite Danish, Or Dutch, with thirst--what, ho! a flask of Rhenish.--BYRON.

954. A LANDSCAPE.

Cornelis Huysmans (Flemish: 1648-1727).

This painter, whose pictures have for the most part become very dark, was born at Antwerp, the son of an architect. He studied the art of landscape under Jacques d'Arthois at Brussels, by which master we are told he was kept so closely to drawing that he could only practise painting by night. He took up his abode at Mechlin; but in 1702 removed to Antwerp, returning, however, to Mechlin fourteen years later. Favourable examples of his work may be seen at the Louvre.

955. WOMEN BATHING.

Cornelis van Poelenburgh (Dutch: 1586-1667).

This painter was a native of Utrecht, where he studied under A. Bloemaert. He afterwards visited Italy and Rome, where he was in 1617, and where he studied the works of Elsheimer. He generally painted Italian landscapes, which he peopled with nude figures, goddesses, nymphs bathing, or antique shepherdesses. These works hit the taste of Royal and Grand Ducal patrons throughout Europe. On quitting Rome for Florence, he was employed by the Grand Duke. In 1627 he returned to Utrecht, whither his fame had preceded him. Rubens is said to have visited him, and Van Dyck painted his portrait. He was invited also to London, and was employed both by Charles I. and James II. He was on three occasions appointed Dean of the Painters' Guild at Utrecht, where he died. He frequently helped his fellow landscape painters by inserting figures for them. Those in Both's "Judgment of Paris" (No. 209) are by him.

956. AN ITALIAN LANDSCAPE.

957. GOATHERDS.

958. OUTSIDE THE WALLS OF ROME.

959. A RIVER SCENE.

Jan Both (Dutch: 1610-1662). See 71.

960. THE WINDMILLS.

Cuyp (Dutch: 1620-1691). See 53.

961. DORT (THE "LARGE DORT").

962. DORT (THE "SMALL DORT").

Cuyp (Dutch: 1620-1691). See 53.

Groups of Cuyp's favourite cows in the foreground. In the distance the Groote Kerk of Dordrecht, with its handsome tower.

963. A SKATING SCENE.

Isaac van Ostade (Dutch: 1621-1649). See 847.

A scene such as Isaac van Ostade specially loved. (See Pater's Imaginary Portraits, cited under 1137.)

964. A RIVER SCENE.

965. RIVER SCENE WITH STATE BARGE.

966. A RIVER SCENE.

967. DUTCH SHIPPING.

Jan van de Cappelle (Dutch: painted 1650-1680). See 865.

968. THE PAINTER'S WIFE.

Gerard Dou (Dutch: 1613-1675). See 192.

969. A FROST SCENE.

Aart van der Neer (Dutch: 1603-1677) See 152.

970. THE DROWSY LANDLADY.

Gabriel Metsu (Dutch: 1630-1667). See 838.

971, 972. LANDSCAPES.

Jan Wynants (Dutch: about 1615-1679). See 883.

973. SANDBANK.

Wouwerman (Dutch: 1619-1668). See 878.

Formerly ascribed to Jan Wynants.

974. LANDSCAPE.

Philip de Koninck (Dutch: 1619-1688). See 836.

A view of the Scheldt and Antwerp Cathedral in the distance.

975. THE STAG HUNT.

976. A BATTLE.

Wouwerman (Dutch: 1619-1668). See 878.

In Wouwerman's battle-pieces, says Ruskin, there is "nothing but animal rage and cowardice"--with which he contrasts the noble battle-piece by Paolo Uccello (583). "It is very singular," he adds, "that unmitigated expressions of cowardice in battle should be given by the painters of so brave a nation as the Dutch. Not but that it is possible enough for a coward to be stubborn, and a brave man weak; the one may win his battle by blind persistence, and the other lose it by a thoughtful vacillation. Nevertheless, the want of all expression of resoluteness in Dutch battle-pieces remains, for the present, a mystery to me. In those of Wouwerman, it is only a natural development of his perfect vulgarity in all respects" (Modern Painters, vol. v. pt. ix. ch. viii. §§ 8-10).

977. A SEA-PIECE.

W. van de Velde (Dutch: 1633-1707). See 149.

978. A RIVER SCENE.

W. van de Velde (Dutch: 1633-1707). See 149.

A state barge in the centre; trumpeters sounding a salute on either side in other vessels.

979. A STIFF BREEZE.

W. van de Velde (Dutch: 1633-1707). See 149.

980. DUTCH SHIPS OF WAR.

W. van de Velde (Dutch: 1633-1707). See 149.

"The best example we have of the painter--a delightful picture. The sky is so delicate and unobtrusive that it does not expose his weakness in cloud drawing" (J. Brett, A.R.A., on "Landscape at the National Gallery," in Fortnightly Review, April 1895).

981. A STORM AT SEA.

W. van de Velde (Dutch: 1633-1707). See 149.

See also under 819. This picture is signed (on a floating spar) and dated London 1673.

982. A FOREST SCENE (dated 1658).

983. A BAY HORSE (dated 1663).

984. LANDSCAPE WITH CATTLE.

A. van de Velde (Dutch: 1636-1672). See 867.

985. SHEEP AND GOATS.

Karel du Jardin (Dutch: 1622-1678). See 826.

986. THE WATERMILLS.

Ruysdael (Dutch: 1628-1682). See 627.

987. A ROCKY TORRENT.

Ruysdael (Dutch: 1628-1682). See 627.

988. AN OLD OAK.

Ruysdael (Dutch: 1628-1682). See 627.

989. WATERMILLS, WITH BLEACHERS.

Ruysdael (Dutch: 1628-1682). See 627.

See note to No. 44.

990. A WOODED PROSPECT.

Ruysdael (Dutch: 1628-1682). See 627.

"This picture with its large shadows sweeping over the landscape and its faint gleams of sunlight, suggesting an imminent rain-storm, is one of Ruysdael's most poetical works" (Poynter: The National Gallery, ii. 174).

991. THE BROKEN TREE.

Ruysdael (Dutch: 1628-1682). See 627.

992. ARCHITECTURAL SCENE.

Jan van der Heyden (Dutch: 1637-1712). See 866.

Classic v. Gothic. An interesting picture of the architectural tendency of the time--the classical Palladian architecture of stone rising over the ruins of the red brick Gothic of earlier times. The same mixture of the old and the new--in juxtaposition not altogether unlike what is here represented--may be seen in the town of Abingdon (Berks), where Inigo Jones's market-hall, built about the time of this picture, towers above the red bricks of the humbler and earlier styles.

993. A HOUSE AMONG TREES.

994. A STREET IN A TOWN.

Jan van der Heyden (Dutch: 1637-1712). See 866.

995. A WOODY LANDSCAPE.

Hobbema (Dutch: 1638-1709). See 685.

996. A CASTLE IN A ROCKY LANDSCAPE.

Hobbema (Dutch: 1638-1709). See 685.

Signed, and dated 1667.

997. SCOURING THE KETTLE

Godfried Schalcken (Dutch: 1643-1706). See 199.

In pictures of this kind by Dou and his followers you fancy, it has been said, that "you see and hear the very grit as it cuts into the yellow metal."

998. SINGING A DUET.

Godfried Schalcken (Dutch: 1643-1706). See 199.

A lover holds a guitar, his mistress some music; on the table is a rose--

If love were what the rose is, And I were like the leaf, Our lives would grow together In sad or singing weather.... If love were what the rose is And I were like the leaf.

SWINBURNE: A Match.

999. BY CANDLE-LIGHT.

Godfried Schalcken (Dutch: 1643-1706). See 199.

"To give the most natural effect to his candle-light pieces, Schalcken is said to have adopted the following system:--He placed the object he intended to paint in a dark room, with a candle, and looking through a small hole, painted by day what he saw by candle-light" (Bryan's Dictionary).

1000. THE ESTUARY OF A RIVER.

Bakhuizen (Dutch: 1631-1708). See 204.

1001. HOLLYHOCKS AND OTHER FLOWERS.

Jan van Huysum (Dutch: 1682-1749). See 796.

Notice the snail crawling along in front.

1002. FLOWERS, INSECTS, AND FRUIT.

Jacob Walscappelle (Dutch: painted about 1675).

A painter of fruit and flowers in the style of de Heem. His flowers are generally arranged in water-bottles, and are besprinkled with butterflies and other insects. He painted at Amsterdam from about 1667 to 1718.

1003. DEAD PARTRIDGES AND OTHER BIRDS.

Jan Fyt (Flemish: 1611-1661).

Fyt--painter and etcher of animals--was a pupil of Snyders, whom in some respects he excelled. The sale catalogues of the greater part of the nineteenth century show that his works were little appreciated, but recent criticism has given him a very high place among the animal and still-life painters of his country. "Fyt's work," says Sir F. Burton, "is perfect in its kind, exhibiting the finest observation of nature, and an execution which unites the greatest mastery with the utmost delicacy. His composition is unconstrained, and the colouring and tone of his pictures are most pleasing." He was born at Antwerp, where, after some years' residence in Italy, he became Dean of the Painters' Guild.

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