Volume 1 — 1100. A SCENE IN A PLAY. (continued 2)

He lived a painter among princes—"a model," says Vasari, "of how we should comport ourselves towards great men," but also a prince among painters—jealous of none, kindly to all. "Whenever any other painter, whether known to him or not, requested any assistance, he would invariably leave his work to do him service; and his school—consisting of some fifty painters, all men of ability and distinction—continued in such unity and concord that all harsh feelings and evil dispositions became subdued and disappeared at the sight of him." And so when he died—having impaired his constitution by a life of ceaseless toil—Rome went into a paroxysm of grief, and flocked, as he lay in state, to catch a last sight of the "divine painter." He died on his birthday, April 6, and was buried in the Pantheon with great solemnities.

With regard to Raphael's position in the history of art, it is important to distinguish between his different "periods," which correspond, as will be seen, with the divisions of his life. The National Gallery is fortunate in having specimens of all the periods, and the importance of the pictures from this point of view is noted under the several numbers, but it may be convenient to summarise the matter briefly here. (1) First, or Perugian period, down to 1504—which again may perhaps be subdivided as explained under 213. During this period his works closely resemble Perugino's—the most typical of them are the "Sposalizio," at Milan, copied from Perugino's painting of the same subject, now at Caen; and the "Crucifixion," in Mr. L. Mond's Collection, of which Vasari says: "If it were not for the name of Raphael written upon it, it would be supposed by every one to be a work of Pietro Perugino." (2) Second, or Florentine period: 1504-1508. To this period belong the "Madonna del Granduca" at Florence, "La Belle Jardinière" at the Louvre, and in this country the Madonna at Lord Cowper's (Panshanger), the Bridgewater Madonna (929), the St. Catherine (168), and this "Ansidei Madonna." The importance of this picture in the history of art is that it shows the transition from the first to the second period, being dated (on the border of the Virgin's robe below her left arm) MDVI, 1506. A glance at the Perugino No. 288 will show how much of that master's influence remains. "To his earlier Perugian manner we ascribe," says Waagen (Treasures of Art in Great Britain, iii. 128), "the head of the Virgin, which, however, is the most beautiful and noble development of this whole style, the rather too round body of the otherwise very lovely child, the expression of ardent yearning in St. John, as well as the position of his feet, resembling that of St. Joseph in the 'Sposalizio,' the cast of the draperies of the Virgin and St. Nicholas, the use of several colours which have turned very dark, such as the blue in the robe of the Virgin, the green in the canopy, in the upper garment of St. Nicholas, and in the landscape, and the use of gold in the hems, in the glories, in the two Greek borders, and in the inscription SALVE MATER CHRISTI on the wooden throne." Another point of special value in this picture is that, like the Sistine Madonna, it is entirely by Raphael's own hand, no pupil or assistant having touched it. (3) Third, or Roman period, 1508-1520. The chief works of this period are the frescoes in the Vatican. But in this country there are the famous cartoons (at South Kensington), and in the National Gallery the portrait of Julius II. (27), and the Garvagh Madonna (744). The characteristics of this period are, besides the perfection of executive power, the substitution of classical for religious motive, and the straining after dramatic effect.

From the technical point of view, this division into three (or four) periods is instructive, but from the point of view of motive a better division is that between his earlier and his later work, the turning-point being his arrival in Rome. "In his twenty-fifth year," says Ruskin (Edinburgh Lectures on Architecture and Painting, p. 213), "one half-year only past the precise centre of his available life, he was sent for to Rome, to decorate the Vatican for Pope Julius II., and having until that time worked exclusively in the ancient and stern mediæval manner, he, in the first chamber which he decorated in that palace, wrote upon its walls the Mene, Tekel, Upharsin of the arts of Christianity. And he wrote it thus: On one wall of that chamber he placed a picture of the World or Kingdom of Theology, presided over by Christ. And on the side wall of that same chamber he placed the World or Kingdom of Poetry, presided over by Apollo. And from that spot, and from that hour, the intellect and the art of Italy date their degradation.... And it was brought about in great part by the very excellences of the man who had thus marked the commencement of decline. The perfection of execution and the beauty of feature which were attained in his works, and in those of his greatest contemporaries, rendered finish of execution and beauty of form the chief objects of all artists; and thenceforward execution was looked for rather than thought, and beauty rather than veracity.... The mediæval principles led up to Raphael, and the modern principles lead down from him." The position of Raphael in the history of art is thus closely parallel to that of his great contemporary Michael Angelo (see 790). In Michael Angelo the art of Florence reached its culmination and fell rapidly to Giulio Romano and Venusti. In Raphael the art of Umbria was perfected and led down to the conventional sentimentalities against which the "Pre-Raphaelites" have in modern times revolted.

The "Ansidei Madonna," so called from having been painted for the Ansidei family at Perugia,[230] was bought from the Duke of Marlborough by the nation for £70,000—more than three times the highest price ever before paid for a picture, and equal to more than £14 per square inch. The importance of the picture to the student has been partly described above; but to this must be added its unusual size and excellent state of preservation, and the fact that whilst on the one hand the National Gallery had before no chef d'œuvre of Raphael, the number of such works not already placed in foreign galleries was very small.[231] On its own merits the "Ansidei Madonna" is by common consent one of the most perfect pictures in the world. It has all the essentials of the greatest art. First it is "wrought in entirely consistent and permanent materials. The gold is represented by painting, not laid on with real gold, and the painting is so secure that nearly four hundred years have produced in it no harmful change." "The exquisite purity of the colour and the silvery and luminous quality of its tones"[232] are as remarkable to-day as they must have been when the panel left the painter's easel. Secondly, "the figures are in perfect peace. Those are the two first attributes of the best art. Faultless workmanship and perfect serenity; a continuous, not momentary, action, or entire inaction; you are to be interested, in the living creatures, not in what is happening to them. Then the third attribute of the best art is that it compels you to think of the spirit of the creature, and therefore of its face, more than of its body. And the fourth is that in the face you shall be led to see only beauty or joy—never vileness, vice, or pain" (Relation between Michael Angelo and Tintoret, pp. 14, 15). In fulfilling these essentials of the highest art, the picture becomes also one of the noblest embodiments of Christianity. Raphael is above all the painter of motherhood and childhood—of the self-forgetting love of the one, and the fearless faith of the other—the human relationship which of all others is the most divine. On either side are two saints—types both of them of the peace of Christianity. In the figure of St. John the Baptist on the left—with his rough camel skin upon him, and an expression of ecstatic contemplation on his face—the joy that comes from a life of self-sacrifice is made manifest; in that of the good Bishop Nicholas of Bari, the peace that comes from knowledge. The three balls at his feet are a favourite emblem of the saint; typical partly of the mystery of the Trinity, but referring also to the three purses of gold which he is said to have thrown into a poor man's window that his daughters might not be portionless. Further we may notice how the same impression of infinite peace is conveyed by the landscape, and especially by the open sky visible on either side of the throne. This open sky "is of all visible things the least material, the least finite, the farthest withdrawn from the earth prison-house, the most typical of the nature of God, the most suggestive of the glory of His dwelling-place. For the sky of night, though we may know it boundless, is dark; it is a studded vault, a roof that seems to shut us in and down; but the bright distance has no limit: we feel its infinity, as we rejoice in its purity of light" (Modern Painters, vol. ii. pt. iii. sec. i. ch. v. § 5).[233]

It has been said above that the Ansidei Madonna is "by common consent one of the most perfect pictures in the world." Criticisms which have been published since its acquisition by the National Gallery require that statement to be modified. Thus, Mr. G. A. Storey, R.A., in the course of a public lecture, has remarked that "as compared with Raphael's other works, the Ansidei Madonna lacked the touch of nature, the play and harmony that were characteristic of the master. All the heads were looking in the same direction, and the figure of the Virgin was scarcely graceful. Nor was there the unity necessary to a complete composition, for each figure seemed unconnected with the rest, and, indeed, they seemed to be almost unconscious of each other's existence." Mr. Ford Madox Brown (Magazine of Art, Feb. 1890) is more severe still. "The Bishop saint of Bari," he says, "is certainly a fine figure, worthy of the master it is attributed to. The Virgin and Child, however, are for sentiment just like two wax doll lay figures, making it hard to conceive how the same mighty hand can have produced anything so tame; while the figure of the Baptist, with ill-drawn legs, is positively repulsive both for pose and for expression of countenance. Surely Raphael could have had no hand in it." Mr. Pater, on the other hand, commends the Ansidei Madonna to students of Raphael as more worthy of admiration than any other work of the master: "I find there, at first sight, with something of the pleasure one has in a proposition of Euclid, a sense of the power of the understanding, in the economy with which he has reduced his material to the simplest terms. He is painting in Florence, but for Perugia, and sends it a specimen of its own old art—Mary and the babe enthroned, with St. Nicholas and the Baptist in attendance on either side. The kind of thing people there had already seen so many times, but done better, in a sense not to be measured by degrees, with a wholly original freedom and life and grace, though he perhaps is unaware, done better as a whole, because better in every minute particular, than ever before. The scrupulous scholar, aged twenty-three, is now indeed a master, but still goes carefully. Note, therefore, how much mere exclusion counts for in the positive effect of his work. There is a saying that the true artist is known best by what he omits. Yes, because the whole question of good taste is involved precisely in such jealous omission. Note this, for instance, in the familiar Apennine background, with its blue hills and brown towns, faultless, for once—for once only—and observe, in the Umbrian pictures around, how often such background is marred by grotesque natural, or architectural detail, by incongruous or childish incident. In this cool, pearl-gray, quiet place, where colour tells for double,—the jewelled cope, the painted book in the hand of Mary, the chaplet of red coral,—one is reminded that among all classical writers Raphael's preference was for the faultless Virgil. How orderly, how divinely clean and sweet the flesh, the vesture, the floor, the earth and sky! Ah, say rather the hand, the method of the painter! There is an unmistakable pledge of strength, of movement and animation in the cast of the Baptist's countenance, but reserved, repressed. Strange, Raphael has given him a staff of transparent crystal. Keep, then, to that picture as the embodied formula of Raphael's genius. Amid all he has here already achieved, full, we may think, of the quiet assurance of what is to come, his attitude is still that of the scholar; he seems still to be saying, before all things, from first to last, 'I am utterly purposed that I will not offend'" (Miscellaneous Studies, p. 53).

1172. CHARLES THE FIRST.

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

This famous picture was one of many equestrian portraits of Charles I. which Van Dyck painted at his court. It is, however, unique among them. In all the others,—the Windsor picture, the replica at Hampton Court, and the pictures in the Earl of Warwick's and the Marquis of Lothian's Collections, the king faces the spectator, and rides, as it were, straight out of the picture, the horse being white. The size, proportions, and composition of this picture are different. The horse is dun-coloured, and the king is seen in profile. A small picture at Buckingham Palace was probably the original design or sketch of it. It was sold after Charles's death for £150 by the Parliament, and in 1885 was bought by another Parliament—from the Duke of Marlborough—for the great price of £17,500 (see under 1171).

It is a courtier's portrait of the idol of the cavaliers—a portrait of the good side of a bad king. Notice first the prominence given to the noble horse (cf. under 156), almost to the point of clumsiness. Then in Charles himself, note the stately bearing, the personal dignity, the almost feminine refinement. It is a portrait of personal courage—with no suspicion of any fatal want of presence of mind; of dignity—with the obstinacy, which was its reverse side, left out. In such a portrait "of a Cavalier by a Cavalier" Van Dyck's work is invested with an enduring pathos for all Englishmen. One remembers only, in looking upon this picture of him, Charles's graces, not his faults. One thinks of him as the man who "nothing common did, nor mean, upon that memorable scene." And so considered, how eloquent becomes the isolation in which the painter has here left him. With him, indeed, is Sir Thomas Morton, his equerry, but the king does not see him. Bareheaded he sits, gazing into futurity.

1173. AN UNKNOWN SUBJECT.

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

Another picture of the golden age (cf. 1123) such as Giorgione, we are told, loved to paint,—"men and women enjoying the golden tranquillity; here is seen the haughty lion, there the humble lamb; in another part we behold the swift flying hart, with many other terrestrial animals." The picture before us precisely agrees with this general description, but the particular subject of it is unknown.[234] A child, it would seem, is being initiated into some order of the golden age—he is being dedicated, perhaps, to a life of song, for the stately personage on the throne wears the poet's crown of wild olive, whilst the young man on the steps below him lightly touches a lute, and has books by his side. The page bears a rich dish of fruits and herbs, for the golden age is vegetarian; whilst fawns and a leopard, with a peacock and other birds, attend the court of the king of song. When in the Bohn Collection, this picture was ascribed to Giorgione. For some interesting remarks on its possible authorship and subject, see the Times, December 22, 1885, where resemblances in this picture to pictures of Carpaccio and Pordenone, as well as of Giorgione, are pointed out. Sir Edward Poynter says that the picture "has considerable affinity with the two pictures attributed to Giorgione in the Uffizzi Gallery at Florence, but is weaker in execution and effect, especially in the landscape" (The National Gallery, i. 26). "True," says Mr. Herbert Cook, "the landscape has been renovated; true, the Giorgionesque depth and richness is gone, the mellow glow of the 'Epiphany' (1160) is sadly wanting; but who can deny the charm of the picturesque scenery, which vividly recalls the landscape background elsewhere in the master's own work? who can fail to admire the natural and unstudied grouping of the figures, the artlessness of the whole, the loving simplicity with which the painter has done his work? Sincerity and naïveté are too apparent for this to be the work of any but a quite young artist, and one whose style is so thoroughly 'Giorgionesque' as to be none other than the young Giorgione himself. In my opinion, this is one of his earliest essays into the region of romance, painted probably before his twenty-first year" (Giorgione, p. 92).

1188. THE BETRAYAL OF CHRIST.

1189. THE PROCESSION TO CALVARY.

Ugolino (Sienese: died 1339).

Ugolino was one of the founders of the Sienese School. So great was his reputation that he was unanimously chosen by the Florentines, in preference to their own artists, to paint the altar-pieces of their two great churches; whilst another picture that he painted for them was credited with miraculous powers. These little pictures are portions of the one painted by him for the high altar of Sta. Croce. "He always adhered," says Vasari (i. 138), "in great part to the Greek manner, as one who, having grown old in that method, was induced by a sort of obstinacy to follow the manner of Cimabue, rather than that of Giotto." The points which have been already noticed as characteristic of his contemporary, Duccio (see 566), may be traced equally in Ugolino.

Notice in 1188 that the disciples are not mere conventional types, but that an attempt is made to give them each an individuality, and to express their characters on their faces. The same expressions may be noticed again in 1189. It is interesting, too, to observe how the first attempts of painting (as of poetry) to express action were epic, rather than dramatic. The painter tries to tell the whole story at once; here is Judas giving the traitor's kiss, there is Peter cutting off the ear of the high priest's servant, and beside them are all the other characters of the story (cf. under 579). As art advances, it becomes on the other hand dramatic; the painter seizes on the essential point and makes his picture out of that. The difference may be seen by contrasting Ugolino's picture with one of the same subject at Florence by Giotto, which Ruskin thus describes: "See what choice Giotto made of his moments. Plenty of choice for him—in pain. The Flagellation—the Mocking—the Bearing the Cross; all habitually given by the Margheritones, and their school, as extremes of pain. 'No,' thinks Giotto. 'There was worse than all that. Many a good man has been mocked, spitefully entreated, spitted on, slain. But who was ever so betrayed?' ... He paints the laying hands on him in the garden, but with only two principal figures—Judas and Peter, of course: Judas and Peter were always principal in the old Byzantine composition,—Judas giving the kiss, Peter cutting off the servant's ear. But the two are here not merely principal, but almost alone in sight, all the other figures thrown back; and Peter is not at all concerned about the servant, or his struggle with him. He has got him down, but looks back suddenly at Judas giving the kiss. 'What!—you are the traitor, then—you!' 'Yes,' says Giotto; 'and you, also, in an hour more'" (Mornings in Florence, ii. 41).

1190. A BOY'S PORTRAIT.

Ascribed to Clouet (French: about 1510-1572). See 660.

This picture was presented to the Gallery by Mr. G. F. Watts, R.A., and it is interesting to note the sage-green background which Mr. Watts has himself sometimes employed.

1192, 1193. SKETCHES FOR ALTAR-PIECES

Giovanni Battista Tiepolo (Venetian: 1692-1769).

Tiepolo, one of the leaders in the revival of Venetian art (see under 1100), was the Paul Veronese of the eighteenth century. "Living," says Sir F. Burton, "in the era of periwig in art as a dress, he was at a sore disadvantage as compared with his great prototype of the sixteenth century; but he steered a pretty clear course between vapid classicality and buckram fashion. Gifted with a brilliant fancy, and master of all the resources of his art, Tiepolo formed a style which, whatever its shortcomings, is splendidly decorative. In his easel pictures, he is at his very best. Here he was not tempted by vast surfaces into that looseness of composition and hastiness of execution that often lessen the value of his frescoes; here, therefore, he could indulge his feeling for compact architectonic arrangement, display force of harmonious colour, and exercise a brilliant method of handling akin to that of Paul Veronese." Tiepolo worked for most of his life at Venice; but went also to execute commissions at Milan, Wurzburg (where his paintings in the Archbishop's Palace may still be seen), and Madrid, in which latter city he died. Of his frescoes at Venice the finest are those of "Antony and Cleopatra" in the Palazzo Labia. Copies of these are in the Arundel Society's Collection.

"Touched in with all the brilliant, flashing, dexterous bravura of the last of the rear-guard of the Venetians. The pictorial art of Venice finished with Tiepolo, and it seemed as if he was resolved that it should not die ignominiously, for in spirit and gaiety he was little inferior to Veronese himself. He had not the stronger qualities of his model; Veronese's grasp of character, his air of nobility, his profound and imaginative harmonies of colour, are wanting in the eighteenth century painter" (Times, December 22, 1885).

1194. CHRIST DRIVING OUT THE TRADERS.

Marcello Venusti (Florentine: 1515-1579).

Venusti, a native of Como, was a pupil of Perino del Vaga, but best known as assistant to Michelangelo, of whose works he supplied copies with variations to suit different patrons. In the oil copy of "The Last Judgment," now at Naples, he introduced in the left-hand corner a portrait of the master himself. He was also employed to put into colour designs made by Michelangelo.

There are drawings by Michelangelo in the British Museum for the figures in this composition. Notice how everything is sacrificed to violent action and contorted position—the money-changers whom Christ is driving out of the Temple are composed as it were for a ballet of limbs. Notice also the "debased" architectural background—the absurdly distorted pillars with their puerile capitals.

1195. THE BIRTH OF VENUS.

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

A finished study for a salver which was executed in silver for Charles I.

"The central oval shows a goddess borne along and attended on the surface of the waves by nymphs and tritons; sea gods and goddesses, riding on aquatic monsters, disport themselves in the broad flat border surrounding the central panel. Rubens may be said to have here surpassed himself in those qualities of movement and brilliant execution in which he was unrivalled. His form, often florid in contour, although always supple, has here a grace and beauty entirely in harmony with the classic theme, and the personages are inspired with that immortal gaiety which has so rarely found expression, save in the work of the master's contemporary, our national poet, since it vanished at the final decay of Greek art and literature. Of a piece with the delightful imaginative qualities so prodigally lavished on the present panel is the truly marvellous execution. The hand has played over the surface with a lightness and delicacy surprising even to those familiar with the touch of the master in his first sketches for important compositions. The method employed is simple and direct; the figures have been outlined in pen and ink, then a general glaze has been spread over the entire surface, on which the forms were modelled in white and gray, the ultimate result being a warm silvery tone" (Times, December 22, 1885).

This design, which was sold at the Hamilton sale (1882) for £1680, was bought for the nation three years later at the Beckett Denison sale for £672.

1196. A COMBAT BETWEEN LOVE AND CHASTITY.

Unknown (Florentine School; 15th Century).

Probably by some unknown disciple of Botticelli. Formerly ascribed to Botticelli himself—an ascription which, owing to the absence of that master's predominating facial type, as well as to the accuracy of landscape such as he never attempted, has now been abandoned. But the exquisite workmanship—visible only in a good light—of the shield and the quiver indicates the hand of one of the goldsmith painters, whilst the allegorical invention and the atmosphere of imaginative poetry have "the true Botticellian ring" (see Times, December 22, 1885; see also Morelli's Borghese Gallery, p. 87 n.). The picture is one of a series which were probably painted for furniture-panels. The one giving the sequel to our story, and representing Chastity on a triumphal car, with Love sitting bound in front, is in the Turin Gallery.

Chastity clothed only in white innocence is assailed by Love. She receives his arrows on a shield of polished steel; the points of the arrows break and burst forth into tiny golden flames—each temptation only causing the sacred fire of Chastity to burn more brightly. The scene is laid in a romantic landscape where everything is pure and beautiful. The field is enamelled with flowers—

Beyond, in the bend of a river, two swans float on its tranquil surface: a tall oak sapling rises straight and firm, and over all rests a clear blue sky. The picture recalls the scene in Milton's Comus—

1199. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Unknown (Florentine: 15th Century).

See also (p. xxi)

On the right is St. John; on the left an angel crowned with a chaplet of roses and bearing the annunciation lily. Notice that the frame ornamented with modelled stucco forms part of the picture, and is indeed part of the same panel.

1200, 1201. GROUPS OF SAINTS.

Macrino d'Alba (Lombard: about 1470-1528).

Macrino was born at Alba in Piedmont. "There is no foundation for the belief that his name was Giangiacomo Fava. His early Lombard training was considerably modified by a visit to Rome, and a study of the Florentine masters and Ghirlandajo's influence is to be seen in his work. His pictures are easily recognisable from the frequent recurrence of similar types and attitudes" (Catalogue of the Burlington Fine Arts Club's Exhibition, 1898, p. lxxvii.). The dates on his works range from 1496 to 1508. They are to be found in the Certosa of Pavia, at Alba, and in the Turin Gallery. He belongs to the pre-Leonardo school of Lombardy, and was perhaps a pupil of Vincenzo Foppa (729).

In the first group (1200) are St. Peter Martyr (for whom see 812), with the knife and plenty of blood on his head, and a bishop in full robes. In the second (1201), St. Thomas Aquinas looking with an almost comic squint at a crucifix, and John the Baptist. On the pages of St. Thomas's book are the words in Latin, "I have kept the commandments of my father"; on those of St John the Baptist, "Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world."

1202. MADONNA AND CHILD, WITH SAINTS.

Bonifazio, the elder (Veronese: about 1490-1540).

Morelli disentangles from the confusions of art-historians and critics three different painters of this name, whom he calls respectively Bonifazio Veronese I., Bonifazio Veronese II., and Bonifazio Veneziano (see German Galleries, pp. 184-194). The elder Bonifazio Veronese, the painter of this picture, was a pupil of Palma Vecchio, and one of the most brilliant of the later Venetian painters. "His bright conception," says Morelli, "and the light gracefulness of his figures seem to me never to belie his native home, Verona; yet, as a technician, he is an out-and-out Venetian. While the chords of his colouring are neither so delicate and startling as in Giorgione, nor so profound and powerful as in Palma and Titian, nor so ingenious as in Lotto, yet they wield a peculiar charm over the eye of the spectator by their bright, cheerful, and harmonious lustre." Bonifazio's earlier works have been frequently ascribed to Palma. Such was the case with the present picture, a work of gorgeous colour and in admirable preservation. In his later works the influence of Giorgione makes itself felt. A much-damaged picture by Bonifazio at Hampton Court, "Diana and Actæon," was long ascribed to Giorgione. Venice possesses many works of this "God-made painter," as Ruskin calls him. None is finer than the "Dives and Lazarus" in the Accademia, a picture of sumptuous colour and exquisitely poetical sentiment. In the Brera at Milan is another splendid work by Bonifazio, long attributed to Giorgione—the "Finding of Moses," a subject of which he was fond, and into which he introduced numerous figures in the gorgeous Venetian costumes of his day.

A composition belonging to a class which Palma Vecchio brought into favour, and which the Italians call Sante Conversazioni—groups, in restful attitudes, framed in sunny landscapes, with blue mountain distances. Bonifazio's landscape backgrounds are very fine, and he was fond, like Titian, of introducing into them the scenery of the Dolomite mountains. On the right is St. Catherine holding a fragment of her wheel, while the youthful St. John the Baptist, standing on another fragment, stoops to kiss the infant Christ's foot—an action symbolical of the kingship of the Saviour ("Thou hast put all things under him"). On the left is St. James—with his staff, borne always by him as the first of the apostles who departed to fulfil the Gospel mission, and dressed as a pilgrim—Campostella, where his body was reputed to be, being in the middle ages a favourite place of pilgrimage. Behind St. James is St. Jerome. Notice the significance of the incident in the middle distance—a shepherd asleep, while a wolf is devouring a sheep ("But the Good Shepherd giveth his life for the sheep").

1203. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Cariani (Bergamese: about 1480-1541).

Of Giovanni Busi, called Cariani, no personal details are known. He was born near Bergamo, and many works by this fine colourist are in the galleries of that town. Others may be seen at the Brera in Milan. Cariani, who seems to have resided at Venice, is supposed to have been a pupil of his fellow-countryman, Palma Vecchio. Morelli thus distinguishes Cariani's style from that of Bonifazio Veronese (see 1202), who was also a pupil of Palma: "The type of the Madonna in Cariani is rustic, but more energetic and serious, less worldly than in Bonifazio, whose holy virgins and female martyrs, with their soft, sweet expression and gentle grace, often border on the sentimental. These masters also differ in the harmony of their colours: the Bergamese is pithy and powerful, but often heavy and dull; the Veronese, clear, lovely, and brilliant; Bonifazio's landscapes are the lightest among those of the Venetians, those in Cariani's pictures are brownish, and the lines far from beautiful" (Italian Masters in German Galleries, 1883, p. 193).

Notice the rustic type of the Madonna; she is a daughter of the mountains—the mountains above Bergamo, from which the painter came, and which figure in the background. The picture is a characteristic piece of provincial art; the expression of "a simple, sturdy, energetic mountain-folk who do not always know how to unite refinement and grace with their inbred strength and vigour" (Morelli, ibid. p. 4). The picture is "interesting mainly," says Mr. Monkhouse, "for its costumes, its light-heartedness and florid colour, and as another of those Sante Conversazioni of which his master, Palma, was the inventor, and which took the place of the more holy 'Holy Families' of an earlier art,—pictures in which the Virgin became a simple woman of a wholly mundane beauty, and the saints but her friends in rich costumes, enjoying themselves somewhat sadly in the open air" (In the National Gallery, p. 248).

1206. LANDSCAPE AND FIGURES.

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

A good example of Salvator's scenic effects in landscape. The sense of power in the painting, the "vigorous imagination, the dexterous and clever composition" of Salvator are well shown; but "all are rendered valueless by coarseness of feeling, and habitual non-reference to nature." (See for further examination of Salvator's deficiencies in this respect Modern Painters, vol. i. pt. ii. sec. i. ch. vii. § 5, sec. iii. ch. iii. § 7, sec. vi. ch. i. § 11; vol. ii. pt. iii. sec. ii. ch. ii. § 19.)

1211, 1212. SCENES AT A TOURNAMENT.

Domenico Morone (Veronese: 1442-1508?)

Domenico Morone was in 1493 called upon by the Veronese authorities in conjunction with Liberale (1134) to adjudicate upon an artistic dispute. It seems, therefore, that he was recognised as a leading painter of the day. This also is Vasari's estimate: Domenico, he says, was in higher repute than any other painter of Verona, Liberale alone excepted. Little, however, is known to us about Domenico. Only two pictures are known to bear his signature; one of these, a "Madonna and Child," is in the Berlin Gallery. He was the father of the better known Francesco Morone (285).

Possibly scenes from the fêtes at the marriage of Isabella d'Este and Francesco Gonzaga, Marquis of Mantua.[235] Domenico Morone, called Pellacane, the dog-skinner, from his father's occupation, may have been present at the marriage ceremony, which took place in 1490; but at any rate these little pictures are of historical interest as contemporary illustrations. The scene in both is a tilt court, with its seat of honour in the middle. In the first the knights are tilting, the marquis being on his throne and the seats filled with ladies. In the second the tilting is over, courtiers and ladies are dancing in the side compartments; whilst in the centre a knight in full armour, but bareheaded, awaits his award of victory from Isabella and her husband, who are standing on the dais. There is much artistic merit in the sprightly way in which such momentary actions as that of the page going to spring over the partition in 1212 are rendered (see Times, July 24, 1886).

1213. PORTRAIT OF A PROFESSOR.

Gentile Bellini (Venetian: 1427-1507).

Gentile was the elder brother of Giovanni (189), and was named after Gentile da Fabriano under whom his father had studied. In 1464, after severe training in his father's school, he moved from Padua to Venice, and was employed by the State. His high reputation is shown by the fact that, when in 1479 the Sultan Mahomet II. applied to the Venetians to send him a good painter, he was deputed by them to go to Constantinople. His visit there was marked by a well-known incident. He showed the Sultan a picture of Herodias's daughter with the head of John the Baptist. The Sultan objected to the bleeding head as untrue to nature, and to prove his point ordered a slave to be beheaded in Bellini's presence. The painter fled from the scene of such experiments, but the influence of his visit is to be seen in the oriental costumes which he was fond of introducing into his pictures (as in the studies in the British Museum and the library of Windsor Castle). The portrait of the great Ottoman conqueror acquired by the late Sir Henry Layard is an autograph replica of the work painted by Gentile at Constantinople. On his return to Venice he was taken into the permanent employment of the State, and executed many works in the Ducal Palace and elsewhere; some were destroyed in the fire of 1577, others remain. In 1486 Titian, then a boy of nine, entered Gentile's studio. Easel pictures by him are very scarce. His principal works are at Venice, and are the most valuable record extant of the city as it was in his time. They are described and highly praised by Ruskin in his Guide to the Academy at Venice. In the same style is the "St. Mark preaching at Alexandria," now in the Brera at Milan. This work, left unfinished when Gentile died, was completed, as his will enjoined, by Giovanni.

Supposed to be a portrait of Girolamo Malatini, Professor of Mathematics in Venice (notice his brass compasses), who is said to have taught Gentile and his brother Giovanni the rules of perspective. "The portrait fully justifies the fame that Gentile had acquired as a painter of portraits, and shows him the forerunner of Titian" (Layard's edition of "Kugler," i. 306). The prominence given in this picture to the sitter's hands should be noticed. The older tradition strictly limited portraiture to the representation of the head only, or at most to the bust. Afterwards the expressiveness of the human hand per se came to be recognised (see Mr. Herbert Cook's Giorgione, p. 19, and compare the portraits Nos. 808 and 1440).

1214. CORIOLANUS, VOLUMNIA, AND VETURIA.

Michele da Verona (Veronese: 1470-1523?)

Michele, a pupil of Domenico Morone (1211), was a contemporary and sometimes an assistant of Cavazzola (735). The works of the two are easily distinguishable. Michele, says Morelli, "is more pointed in the foldings of his draperies, as well as in the fingers of his hands, which are always rather stumpy in Cavazzola. In conception, however, Cavazzola is far above Michele, and also more elegant and noble in his drawing" (German Galleries, p. 54). Many of Michele's works are to be seen at Verona. His landscape backgrounds, as in the present picture, are interesting.

Coriolanus, a noble Roman, so called from Corioli, a city of the Volscians he had taken, bore himself haughtily, and was banished. Nursing his revenge, he threw himself into the arms of the Volscians, determined henceforth to bear himself "As if a man were author of himself, And knew no other kin," and advanced at their head upon Rome. The Romans, in terror, endeavoured in vain to appease him, and at last sent out his wife, Volumnia, with her child, here kneeling before him, and his mother, Veturia (Volumnia in Shakespeare's play), to intercede. In their presence "the strong man gave way; he throws himself on his knee, and is restored once more to human love"—

Shakespeare: Coriolanus, Act v. Sc. 3.

1215. MADONNA AND CHILD.

Domenico Veneziano (died 1461). See 766.

For the history of this picture (now withdrawn from exhibition) see under 766. The restorations of 1851 there referred to were in great part removed after the acquisition of the picture by the National Gallery. But "it was found, late in 1904, that its state threatened its immediate destruction, and it was hoped that the mischief might be arrested by re-lining. The pigment was, however, found to be falling from the plaster ground in such a way that re-lining, which would affect only the adherence of the ground to the canvas backing, was useless, and very reluctant recourse was had to the process of transferring the picture itself to canvas. This transfer resulted in such a loss to the picture that it has been withdrawn from public exhibition, and, for the present, it is thought better to leave it as a genuine picture, of interest to connoisseurs, rather than subject it to the extensive repainting without which it would hardly be intelligible to the ordinary visitor" (Director's Report, 1905). A small copy of the picture is exhibited among the Arundel Society's Collection.

1216, 1216 a & b. THE FALL OF THE REBEL ANGELS.

Spinello Aretino (Tuscan: about 1333-1410). See 581.

These fragments of a fresco, now transferred to canvas, are of particular interest from the following mention of it by Vasari. He relates how Spinello Aretino, after executing important works in various cities of Italy, returned to his native city, Arezzo, and very shortly settled down to decorate the church of S. Maria degli Angeli. The subject chosen was certain stories from the life of St. Michael. "At the high altar," says Vasari, "he represented Lucifer fixing his seat in the North, with the fall of the angels, who are changed into devils as they descend to the earth. In the air appears St. Michael in combat with the old serpent of seven heads and ten horns, while beneath and in the centre of the picture is Lucifer, already changed into a most hideous beast. And so anxious was the artist to make him frightful and horrible that it is said—such is sometimes the power of imagination—that the figure he had painted appeared to him in his sleep, demanding to know where the painter had seen him looking so ugly as that, and wherefore he permitted his pencils to offer him, the said Lucifer, so mortifying an affront." Vasari attributes a fatal result to this vision. "The artist awoke," he says, "in such extremity of terror that he was unable to cry out, but shook and trembled so violently that his wife, awakening, hastened to his assistance. But the shock was so great that he was on the point of expiring suddenly from this accident, and did not in fact survive it beyond a very short time, during which he remained in a dispirited condition, with eyes from which all intelligence had departed" (i. 269). In fact, however, Spinello lived many years and executed several important works after the date in question. Some years ago the church of the Angeli was dismantled, and the greater portion of the frescoes perished. Sir A. H. Layard, who was passing Arezzo at the time, was fortunately able to secure a large piece of the principal fresco. The fragment is from the centre of the composition, and contains a portion of the figure of Michael and six of the angels following him. The archangel, with raised sword, is striking at the dragon; his attendants, armed with spears and swords, thrust down the demons. Besides these figures, Sir A. H. Layard was able to save a portion of the decorated border of the fresco (1216 A & B). These he presented to the nation in 1886.

1217. THE ISRAELITES GATHERING MANNA.

Ercole Roberti de' Grandi (Ferrarese: 1450-1496).

See 1127.

"The lithe and sinewy form in the nude figure of the young man, the accurate draughtsmanship, the firm modelling, the care and study bestowed even on the tiny figures in the background, the dramatic intention and impression of vitality, indicate a familiarity with the works of Mantegna" (Times, July 24, 1886). The artist exhibits, adds Sir F. Burton, "no less appreciation of natural grace in the female figures than of dignity in the principal male personages."

1218, 1219. JOSEPH AND HIS BRETHREN.

Francesco Ubertini (Florentine: 1494-1557).

Francesco, the son of Ubertino, a goldsmith, called Il Bacchiacca, studied first under Perugino, and afterwards with Franciabigio and Andrea del Sarto. He was also at one time in Rome, where he lived on terms of intimacy with Giulio Romano and Benvenuto Cellini; he is mentioned in Cellini's Autobiography. He was "more particularly successful," says Vasari, "in the execution of small figures, which he executed to perfection and with infinite patience. Ultimately Bacchiacca was received into the service of the Duke Cosimo, seeing that he was excellent in the delineation of all kinds of animals, and was therefore employed to decorate a study for his Excellency, which he did with great ability, covering the same with birds of various kinds, together with rare plants and foliage. At a later period he painted in fresco the grotto of a fountain which is in the garden of the Pitti Palace, and also prepared the designs for hangings of a bed to be richly embroidered all over with stories in small figures, this being considered the most gorgeous decoration of the kind that has ever been executed in similar work, seeing that the designs of Francesco have been worked in embroidery, thickly mingled with pearls and other costly material, by Antonio, the brother of Francesco, who is an excellent master in embroidery" (iv. 492). It would appear from Vasari's account that Francesco's works consisted of predelle for altar-pieces, and pictorial adornments for wedding chests, and other pieces of "art furniture."[236] Morelli, however, in an interesting chapter on Bacchiacca (Roman Galleries, pp. 103-113), claims for him a much more important position, ascribing to him among other works the charming and celebrated "Portrait of a Boy" in the Louvre, commonly attributed to Raphael.

The present panels decorated the room in the house at Florence, from which Pontormo's picture of Joseph also comes (see under 1131); they were doubtless painted for "cassoni," or large chests which were used by the Italians of the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries as wardrobes. "In those palmy days art was welcomed everywhere in Italy, and had a share in all the concerns of men, and in all the events and festivities of daily life. The nobles took a delight in enriching their palaces, their country houses, and the chapels in their churches, with paintings and sculpture, and even required that their household furniture should, whilst useful, be graceful and beautiful." Our panels were purchased many years ago from the heirs of the Borgherini.

Several incidents occur in each of the two pictures, but the main figures constantly recur, and we recognise them by their dress and look. (1218). On the left, in this picture, are Joseph's brethren travelling in search of corn towards the land of Egypt, quaint figures in fantastic dresses, with little Benjamin, a child in a blue frock, and Reuben weeping, and another brother trying in vain to console him. "And the famine was sore in the land.... And the men took ... Benjamin; and rose up, and went down to Egypt" (Genesis xliii. 1, 15). On the right in the same picture is Joseph welcoming his brothers in the portico of the palace, Pharaoh's armed guard outside looking rather grimly and inhospitably on the intruders. The landscape is green and picturesque. It is noticeable that blue (the colour of hope) is here made sacred to Joseph and Benjamin, the children of promise, who are in every instance dressed alike.

(1219). In the companion panel the further history of Joseph and his brethren is depicted in three scenes or compartments, divided by pillars. On the left are the brothers unloading the donkey of the empty meal-jars, now to be filled through Joseph's kindness. In the centre is Joseph making himself known to his eleven brethren. He is gazing tenderly on little Benjamin, who advances towards him in the foreground. "And Joseph said unto his brethren, I am Joseph: doth my father yet live?" (Genesis xlv. 3). On the right are seen the brethren departing homeward, and the mule laden with Benjamin and the filled meal-bags is being driven off.

1220. THE VIRGIN AND CHILD

L' Ingegno (Umbrian: painted 1484-1511).

This is the only picture, says the Official Catalogue, which can be authenticated "with something like certainty" as the work of Andrea di Luigi, of Assisi. His name occurs in receipts and registers from 1505 to 1511, in the capacity of procurator, arbitrator, auditor to the magistracy, and finally of papal cashier at Assisi. It was perhaps this "talent" for affairs that won him the name of "L' Ingegno." Vasari says he was the most promising disciple of Perugino, and the resemblance to that artist in this picture is strong. Compare for instance even so small a thing as the dress patterns here with those in 288, as also the close resemblance to the "purist" landscape there described.

1221. "DARBY AND JOAN."

Abraham de Pape (Dutch: died 1666).

This painter, a friend and pupil of Gerard Dou, was a well-to-do citizen of Leyden. He was twice Dean of the Painters' Guild in that place. This picture (formerly in the Blenheim Collection) is considered one of the best of his works. The painter's name is inscribed on the wooden cupboard on the wall above the spinning-wheel.

1222. A STUDY OF FOLIAGE, BIRDS, ETC.

Melchior de Hondecoeter (Dutch: 1636-1695). See 202.

Formerly ascribed to Otto Marseus; but the defaced part of the signature has recently been deciphered as being that of Hondecoeter, dated 1668.

1227. VIRGIN AND CHILD

Marcello Venusti (Florentine: 1515-1579). See 1194.

Also St. Joseph and St. John the Baptist, with the skin of a wild beast quaintly treated as a head-dress. A picture from a composition by Michael Angelo, known as "Il Silenzio."

1229. VIRGIN AND CHILD.

Luis de Morales (Spanish: 1509-1586).

Luis de Morales was born at Badajos, and is one of the most native of Spanish artists. He did not resort to Italy, such foreign influence as is discernible in him being rather that of the Flemings; and the religious sanctity of his work won him the surname of "the Divine." "His subjects, always devotional, were," we are told, "mostly of the saddest, as the Saviour in his hour of suffering, or dead in his mother's arms, or the weeping Madonna. His object was to excite devotion through images of pain, and to this end the forms are attenuated and the faces disfigured by the marks of past or present anguish." He was very largely commissioned by churches and convents, and his fame spread over Spain. He was called to the court of Philip II. in 1563, but was dismissed as soon as he had painted one picture, and thereafter he fell into great poverty. He had appeared at court, it is said, "in the style of a grand seigneur" which seemed to the king and his courtiers absurd in a mere painter, and was the cause of their disfavour. Some years later, however, the king, learning of his poverty, granted him a pension. In his earlier period, Morales painted crowded compositions with numerous figures; in his later, smaller pictures, such as the one before us.

1230. PORTRAIT OF A GIRL.

Domenico Ghirlandajo (Florentine: 1449-1494).

The name of Ghirlandajo is one of the great landmarks in the history of Florentine art. He was the first to introduce portraits into "historical" pictures for their own sake, and his series of frescoes in S. Maria Novella is particularly interesting for the numerous portraits of his friends and patrons, dressed in the costume of the period and introduced into scenes of Florentine life and architecture. "There is a bishop," says Vasari, "in his episcopal vestments and with spectacles on his nose"—Ghirlandajo was the first master who ventured to paint a figure wearing spectacles—"he is chanting the prayers for the dead; and the fact that we do not hear him alone demonstrates to us that he is not alive, but merely painted." These groups of men and women in Ghirlandajo's sacred compositions stand by in the costume of their day as spectators of the incidents represented. He introduced also the architecture of Florence in the richest display and in complete perspective; and thus in his subjects taken from sacred story he has left us "an exalted picture of life as it presented itself to him in that day." "In the technical management of fresco Ghirlandajo exhibits an unsurpassed finish, and worked in it with extraordinary facility. He is said to have expressed a wish that he might be allowed to paint in fresco the whole of the walls which enclosed the city of Florence." He was carried off by the plague in his forty-fifth year, but he had already completed a very large body of work. He was the son of a silk-broker named Bigordi. He and his brother David, who was also a painter, were apprenticed to a goldsmith. Their master probably manufactured the garlands of gold and silver which were so much in favour with the women of Florence, and the young men coming from his shop thus acquired the name of del Ghirlandajo. Domenico early showed his bent by the striking likenesses he drew of the people who passed by the goldsmith's shop. He remained to the end of his life, says Ruskin, "a goldsmith with a gift of portraiture." As early as 1475 his reputation was established, for in that year he was called to Rome to paint in the Sistine Chapel, where his "Calling of Peter and Andrew" is still well preserved. Among the frescoes executed after his return to Florence may be mentioned the "St. Jerome" in the church of the Ognissanti, the history of "St. Francis" in the Trinita, and the famous series in the choir of S. Maria Novella. Copies from several of these works may be seen in the Arundel Society's Collection. They are described by Ruskin in his Mornings in Florence (see also Praeterita, vol. ii., and numerous incidental references in Modern Painters). Ghirlandajo had not, perhaps, Giotto's dramatic instinct for the heart of his subjects, but his frescoes are remarkable, not only for their brilliantly decorative effect, but for their noble and dignified realism. In the Uffizi at Florence are his best easel pictures. There is also a fine "Visitation" in the Louvre. Ghirlandajo was celebrated further as a worker in mosaic (e.g. the mosaic over the north door of the Cathedral at Florence). He was twice married. The painter Ridolfo (1143) was a son by his first wife. Amongst his other pupils were Granacci and Michael Angelo.

The girl is of the same type—with the same hair, "yellow as ripe corn," and the same dainty primness—as the lady in Mr. Willett's picture (for some years on loan in the National Gallery, and now in the collection of M. Rodolphe Kann at Paris), but she was perhaps of humbler station—a simple flower in her hair and a coral necklace being her only ornaments.

1231. PORTRAIT OF A GENTLEMAN.

Sir Antonio More (Flemish: 1512-1578). See 1094.

"A man in the prime of life, attributed to Sir Antonio Moro; the signature is perhaps apocryphal. There is little doubt, however, that the attribution is correct; the manipulation shows all the prodigious power of Moro. His capacity for seizing character and the fine tone of his flesh colour are all here. The execution suggests the brilliant study of Hubert Goltzius, by Moro, in the Brussels Gallery. That masterpiece was stated to have been painted in an hour; the present head bears every indication of almost equally rapid brush work" (Times, September 19, 1887).

1232. PORTRAIT OF A GENTLEMAN.

Heinrich Aldegrever (Westphalian: about 1502-1555).

"Aldegrever is a son of the Renaissance, but he has not altogether escaped the old Franconian stiffness and provincialism.... His real strength is in engraving.... He worked also as a goldsmith, and his ornamental designs are numerous. We also know of a small number of woodcuts by him" (Woltmann, ii. 234). His pictures are very rare. The flower and ring which figure in the best known portrait by him at Vienna are again met with here, but this picture is less stiff and formal than that.

1233. THE BLOOD OF THE REDEEMER.

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

A devotional picture recalling such reminiscences of mediæval mysticism as are found in many of our hymns—

"A cold sky with underlit clouds suggests the still and solemn hour of early dawn, a fitting time for the advent of this weird and livid apparition. Gaunt, bloodless, and with attenuated limbs, the Redeemer, we recognise, has passed through the Valley of 'the Shadow of Death'—not victoriously; there is no light of triumph in the lustreless eyes; no palm nor crown awaits this victim of relentless hate, the type of infinite despair and eternal sacrifice" (Times, September 19, 1887)—

("Michael Field" in Sight and Song.)

The looks and gestures of the Saviour seem to demonstrate that the blood which pours from His riven side is freely given for the redemption of the world. In the details of the picture, which careless observers might mistake for mere chance accessories, there is an allegorical meaning. The paved terrace with the open doorway symbolises the Paradise regained by the Blood of the Sacrificed, the ideal Church, the Church of the New Covenant, in contradistinction to the Hortus Inclusus, the garden enclosed, without a door, which was the type of the Old Covenant. The antique reliefs are pagan prototypes of the Christian sacrifice. On the right is Mucius Scaevola, before Lars Porsena, thrusting his hand into the fire,—the ancient type of heroism and readiness to suffer; on the opposite side is a pagan sacrifice, with Pan playing the pipes, signifying the propitiatory sacrifices of the ancients, and thus foreshadowing the Sacrifice on the Cross. The landscape background carries out the same ideas. On the right is a barren hill with leafless trees, and at its base some ancient ruins and a crumbling fountain. In contrast to this on the opposite side is a prosperous and well-fortified city, lying amid meadows; a church tower; the sky above is rosy with the light of early dawn. Figures are seen turning from the ancient ruins and making their way along the path which leads to a new and better home, the Christian city (Richter's Lectures on the National Gallery, p. 37).

This little picture is among the earliest of Bellini's works. The abnormal length of the figure of Christ and the exaggerated length and straightness of the forearms are points which should be noticed in this connection, resembling as they do characteristics of other early works by the painter, and also the drawings of his father, Jacopo. But "already, in spite of the archaism of form, he shows a feeling for atmospheric tonality; the ruin to the right and the two figures near it are, as painters say, in their place; that is to say, the treatment as regards relations of tone is such as the linear perspective would lead us to expect. Still more surprising is the way in which the eye is led down the valley to free spaces of luminous air" (Roger Fry: Giovanni Bellini, p. 18). The subject is a rare one in Italian art. Mr. Fry gives a reproduction of a similar figure in a picture by Crivelli in the Poldi Pezzoli Collection at Milan; and Dr. Richter, one from a woodcut in Savonarola's treatise on "Humility," first printed in 1492.

1234. "A MUSE INSPIRING A COURT POET."

Dosso Dossi (Ferrarese: 1479-1542). See 640.

Called a "court poet" because, one may suppose, of his sleek and uninspired appearance; but poets do not always look their parts, and 'tis the function of the Muse "to mould the secret gold." But perhaps the artist had some gently sarcastic intention, for it is but a small sprig that the Muse has spared to the poet from her garland. The head of the poet is clearly a portrait. That of the Muse "is as fine in technique and condition as anything in the whole range of Dossi's work" (Benson).

1239, 1240. THE MURDER OF THE INNOCENTS.

Girolamo Mocetto (Venetian: worked 1484-1514).

Mocetto was a native of Verona, but a pupil of Giovanni Bellini at Venice. He was "one of the earliest," says Lanzi (ii. 167), "and least polished among Bellini's disciples." And it is interesting to contrast the accomplished and beautiful work of the master (1233) with the almost ludicrous imperfections of these two pictures by the pupil. Notice especially the absurd attitude of the attendant to the left, in 1239; and in 1240, the expression of grief in the mother. Mocetto's claim to distinction rests rather on his rare engravings, executed from the designs of Giovanni Bellini and Mantegna. He "was also the painter of the great window in the church of SS. Giovanni e Paolo (Venice), which, although badly restored, still remains a magnificent work" (Layard, i. 332).

These works probably formed the wings of a triptych. In the former scene Herod directs the massacre which has already begun; in the second, the massacre is at its height.

1241. CHRIST PREACHING IN THE TEMPLE.

Pedro Campaña (Flemish-Italian: 1503-1580).

The painter of this picture forms an interesting link in the history of art. "In Spain the influence exercised over the national school by the northern Gothic masters was weakened at an early stage by the Italian Renaissance. Strange to say, a Fleming, who had learned his art in the school of Michael Angelo, was the chief instrument by which Italy asserted her power. Peter de Kampencer, to whom the Spaniards gave the name of Pedro Campaña, was born in Brussels. He left Italy, where he had enjoyed the protection of Cardinal Grimani, for Seville (1548), where he founded an academy." Luis de Morales (see 1229) is said to have been among his disciples. One of his masterpieces, a "Descent from the Cross," in Santa Cruz, was the picture which Murillo was never tired of admiring (see the story told under 13). Besides such large altar-pieces, "he was accustomed," says Lanzi (i. 402, Bohn's edition), "to paint small pictures, which were eagerly sought after by the English, and transferred to their country, where they were highly prized." In 1560 Campaña returned to his native city, and became official painter to the tapestry works there.

The subject of this "celebrated picture" (as Lanzi calls it) is "The Magdalen led by St. Martha to the Temple, to hear the preaching of Christ." Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, is identified in legend with the Magdalen, and her conversion is said to have begun with the incident here depicted. The kneeling figure of the Magdalen is conspicuous amongst the women listeners; she is encouraged by Martha, who points to the preacher (see Mrs. Jameson's Sacred and Legendary Art, p. 219, ed. 1850, for other representations of this subject).

1243. PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG MAN.

C. W. Heimbach (German: 1613-1678).

Dated 1662. Notice the characteristic "steeple-crowned" hat.

1247. THE CARD PLAYERS.

Nicolas Maes (Dutch: 1632-1693). See 153.

This picture, purchased in 1888 at the sale of the Gatton Park (Lord Oxenbridge's) Collection, was stated by the auctioneer to be by Rembrandt, but there is little doubt that it is really by his disciple, Maes; though, as it is larger than most of the known works by that master, other critics have ascribed it to another pupil of Rembrandt, Carl Faber, or Fabricius. "In any case it is unmistakably of the Rembrandt school, and owes its inspiration to the method of presentation peculiar to the master. From every technical point of view it is first-rate. It is infused with the largeness of style, the just appreciation of character, and the glowing colour, to be found in Rembrandt's matured works. It is the turn of the girl to play. She regards her hand in evident perplexity, doubtful which card to throw down. The man is apparently sure of his game" (Times, June 4, 1888).

1248. PORTRAIT OF A LADY.

Bartholomeus van der Helst (Dutch: 1611-1670). See 140.

The sitter belonged to the Braganza family. So prematurely demure is this plain little girl that, in spite of the fact that her hair is "down" and that she wears a round nursery cap, she is dignified with the title of "A Lady." She is certainly every inch a grown-up lady in her rich brocade dress, pearl necklace, and costly feathers. Van der Helst gave special attention, says Sir F. Burton, to "the discrimination of stuffs, and his skill in reproducing the lustre and shimmer of jewellery or gold embroidery and the delicacy of the lace-worker's art has never been equalled." The picture is signed, and dated 1645.

1251. PORTRAIT OF A MAN.

Frans Hals (Dutch: 1580-1666). See 1021.

It is only at Haarlem that the full power of Hals can be seen; but this picture shows something of his dash and facility. There is, indeed, upon it a stamp of power and individuality, alike in conception and treatment, which makes it one of the most interesting portraits in the Gallery. It is signed with the painter's monogram, and dated 1633. Possibly it is a portrait of the painter himself; and certainly it shows the type of a man to which Hals belonged—Hals, the dashing volunteer who fought in the military guilds, the good-for-nothing, daredevil fellow who loved his glass and was none too faithful in his domestic relations, whose excesses brought him finally to penury, but whose high spirit and unfailing dash enabled him to remain true, through it all, to the calling of his art.

1252. A FRUIT-PIECE.

Frans Snyders (Flemish: 1579-1657).

Snyders was one of the principal Flemish painters of animals and still life, and his talents were so much admired by Rubens that the latter often employed him to paint fruit, game, and other accessories in his pictures. Rubens in exchange sometimes drew the figures in pictures by Snyders, whom, as a last proof of affection, he appointed by will to manage the sale of his works of art. Snyders received many commissions, too, from the Archduke Albert and from Philip III. of Spain. His earlier pictures were confined to representations—such as this one of fruit and vegetables, or of dead game and fish. In the establishment of his parents, who were proprietors of a large eating-house, he had ample opportunity of studying such models. "Snyders is not to be surpassed," says Sir F. Burton, "in the painting of fruit. With his fine appreciation of colour, and his large method of handling, he reproduced with few but masterly touches the characteristic surface of each luscious product of the garden, with greater truth to nature than was generally attained by those painters who sought it by means of minute and laborious imitation." Afterwards Snyders enlarged his scope, and produced those scenes of the chase for which he became celebrated. The vigour which Snyders threw into these productions is extraordinary, but pictures of animals in savage chase or butchered agony do not appeal to all tastes. "I know no pictures," says Ruskin, "more shameful to humanity than the boar and lion hunts of Rubens and Snyders, signs of disgrace all the deeper because the powers desecrated are so great. The painter of the village ale-house sign may, not dishonourably, paint the fox-hunt for the village squire; but the occupation of magnificent art power in giving semblance of perpetuity to those bodily pangs which Nature has mercifully ordained to be transient, and in forcing us, by the fascination of its stormy skill, to dwell on that from which eyes of merciful men should instinctively turn away, and eyes of high-minded men scornfully, is dishonourable alike in the power which it degrades, and the joy to which it betrays" (Modern Painters, vol. v. pt. ix. ch. vi. § 19).

1255. A STUDY OF STILL LIFE.

Jan Jans van de Velde (Dutch: born 1622).

This rare painter, perhaps the son of Jan van de Velde, the engraver, was settled at Amsterdam in 1642. Besides being a painter he was in business as a broker, and was described in the marriage register as a silver-wire drawer. This picture is dated 1656.

1256. A STUDY OF STILL LIFE.

Herman Steenwyck (Dutch: 17th Century).

This Steenwyck is not to be confused with the painter of architectural interiors (see 1132). Herman, and a brother, Pieter, were painters of still-life subjects at Leyden.

1257. THE BIRTH OF THE VIRGIN.

Murillo (Spanish: 1618-1682). See 13.

A sketch for the large picture now in the Louvre (No. 540). "Like so many of the sketches of Murillo, it is so light in touch," says one of the critics, "so exquisite in colour, as to be, from an artistic point of view, preferable to the finished picture." This, however, is not the only advantage which Murillo gains from smallness of scale. There is a prettiness, and even a sentimentality, permissible on a small scale which offends the dignity of a large canvas. Thus, the "affectation" of the attendant angels is far less "absurd" here than in the large picture. "One of the cherubs shrinks back," adds Mr. Eastlake in his Louvre catalogue, "frightened at a dog, which seems a strangely human act of weakness; another holds up a piece of baby-linen, with a provokingly fantastic air." But herein we have the very characteristics which make the religious sentiment of Murillo's pictures interesting. In the early Italian pictures the Virgin is a great lady, living in a fine house or spacious cloister. But in Spain the symbols of devotion passed into realities; and a combination of mysticism in conception with realism in treatment is the distinguishing "note" of the Spanish religious school. One could not wish for a prettier presentment of this mingled note than is afforded by this little sketch, with its angels half in ecstatic adoration over the "Lily of Eden," and half in human playfulness—a sketch which seems to combine with the frank realities of a humble nursery the religious sentiment of Keble's Christian Year:—

1258. A STUDY OF STILL LIFE

J. B. S. Chardin (French: 1699-1779).

Jean Baptiste Siméon Chardin was the contemporary of Boucher (1090), and his pictures may serve to remind us that there was a bourgeoisie in France as well as a noblesse when Louis XV. was king. The simple subject of this picture—a loaf of brown bread, with a bottle of wine, spread out on a piece of old newspaper—takes us far away from the luxurious trifling of the Court painters. Chardin followed the path of frank realism, treating, however, all his subjects with refinement. To Dutch precision he added Gallic grace. He painted either still life (as here) or scenes from the domestic life of the people (as in 1664, and in a picture in the Dulwich Gallery). His treatment was devoid of affectation, and his colouring fresh and agreeable. "He is the best colourist in the Salon," said Diderot of him in his lifetime. Chardin, in the exercise of his honest industry, knew how difficult it was to excel, and said on one occasion to Diderot and the other critics, "Gently, good sirs, gently! Out of all the pictures that are here seek the very worst; and know that two thousand unhappy wretches have bitten their brushes in two with their teeth, in despair of ever doing even so badly." Chardin's fellow-workers appreciated his merits, and he was elected a member of the Academy in 1728, becoming Treasurer of that body in 1755. There is a large collection of his works in the Louvre. They fell into disrepute during the succeeding reign of David and the "classical" school, but they have again won a high position in the estimation of those who know. This picture (which is signed, and dated 1754) was presented to the Gallery; for No. 1664, purchased in 1898, the sum of £721 was paid.

Chardin's pictures show that instinctive "power of reticence" which is one of the secrets of fine art. "It is what gives value to such humble efforts as the study of still-life subjects, and raises them—as in the works of the French painters, Chardin especially, and of some of the Dutch painters—above the level of mere mechanical imitations, and transforms them into works capable of giving us real pleasure" (Poynter's Lectures on Art, p. 195).

1260-1270. EARLY GREEK PORTRAITS.

These eleven portraits are part of the find by Mr. Flinders Petrie, in his excavations at Hawara, in the Fayoum (Middle Egypt), and are of great interest as supplying a fresh link in the historical development of art as exhibited in the National Gallery. Here is portraiture in its infancy. But even these portraits, done probably by Græco-Egyptian artists in the second or third century A.D., are later developments from an earlier stage. They were affixed to the outside covering of mummies in a position corresponding to the head of the corpse:[237] the exact arrangement can be seen in two mummies from the same "find," now in the British Museum. "They are derived," says Miss Amelia B. Edwards, "by a clearly traced process of evolution from the portrait-heads first modelled in stucco upon Egyptian mummy cases, and then painted. From coloured portraiture in high relief to coloured portraiture on flexible canvas, where a certain amount of relief was obtained by the prominence of the bandaged face beneath, was one step; and from the flexible canvas to the panel upon which the semblance of relief was given by light and shadow and foreshortening was another and far more important step. It marked the transition from the Eastern to the Western school of painting." The portraits are painted with pigments of rich colour on thin panels of cedar wood, wax being the medium employed. "The rather lumpy surface or impasto which comes from the use of a wax medium is very obvious. The melted wax rapidly hardened when the brush touched the cold surface of the panel, and so prevented the pigment from being laid in a smooth, even manner. The wood was not, like stucco, sufficiently absorbent for the subsequent application of heat to get rid of the lumpy surface by driving the superfluous wax below the surface" (Middleton's Remains of Ancient Rome, i. 100). The persons buried with these panel portraits were mostly of Greek origin; but some—as, for instance, the man (No. 1265, presented by Mr. Haworth)—seemed rather to be of the Roman type. The faces exhibit all variations, from living grace to the emptiest vacuity. It has been suggested that "the better portraits were painted from the life, whilst in other cases the painter was perhaps only sent for after death, and this may account for the vague and lifeless looks of many of the portraits, inanimate in spite of the wide, open, and vacuous smile." It will be noticed that "the style of the portraits is usually conventional precisely in those details which make the difference between one living face and another. The eyes, which more than any other feature should impart the living expression in all these cases, are executed in a perfunctory and formal manner. And they are, moreover, in many cases too large for the face. This is not merely due to the inability of the artists, for many of these portraits show a real grasp of character and a distinct technical skill in the modelling, notably in that, perhaps, most difficult of tasks, the indication of the play of muscles around the mouth. Under these circumstances I think no one will deny that the measure of success achieved in some of the best of these portraits is very remarkable. The old man in particular (1265) shows a breadth of style and a quiet humour which reminds us of some of the Dutch masters of the Teniers school. Of course there are good and bad among them; the quality probably depended to some extent upon the price which the relative could afford to pay. One wonders what the price may have been, especially when we read of the enormous sums which great pictures fetched in the palmy days of Greek painting. Most of these people seem to have been well to do, as the gold wreaths of the men and the jewellery of the women prove" (Cecil Smith, ch. vi. of W. M. F. Petrie's Hawara, Biahmu, and Arsinoe: 1889). No. 1261 retains the greater part of a gilt gesso border, stamped or modelled with a wavy tendril and bud pattern.

1277. A MAN'S PORTRAIT.

Nicolas Maes (Dutch: 1632-1693). See 153.

Signed, and dated 1666. A singularly lifelike portrait of a singularly unattractive face.

1278. A CONVIVIAL PARTY.

Hendrik Gerritsz Pot (Dutch: about 1600-1656).

The picture is signed HP (on the side of the projecting chimney). Several pictures—chiefly conversation-pieces and portraits (including one of Charles I. in the Louvre)—bear these initials. They are supposed to belong to the above-named artist, of whom it is recorded that he visited England and made portraits of the king.

An ordinary scene of the kind, but there is a pleasant touch in the little dog who furtively licks the hand of its half-tipsy master.

1280. CHRIST APPEARING AFTER HIS RESURRECTION

Unknown (Early Flemish: 15th Century).

The Virgin Mary sits on the edge of an old-fashioned bedstead. Christ, with the marks of the wounds in breast and feet, faces her, and behind him is a great company of saints, kneeling. Highly finished throughout.

1282. SAN ZENOBIO RESTORING TO LIFE A DEAD CHILD.

Jacopo Chimenti da Empoli (Florentine: 1554-1640).

Chimenti, of Empoli, near Florence, was "an imitator of Andrea del Sarto, and distinguished for his Madonnas; he was distinguished also for his love of good eating, and acquired from his contemporaries the nickname of L' Empilo, instead of L' Empoli, which is as much as to say stewpan" (Wornum, Epochs of Painting, p. 356). He was largely employed in the churches of Florence and the neighbourhood. His best production is his "St. Ives" in the Uffizi: "in noble conception and truth and glow of colour it reminds us of the best of the old Florentine masters."

St. Zenobio (died A.D. 417) was a Bishop of Florence, famous in his time for his eloquence and good works, and a favourite saint with the Florentines in after ages. The following is the legend painted in this picture:—"A French lady of noble lineage, who was performing a pilgrimage to Rome, stopped at Florence on the way, in order to see the good bishop Zenobio, of whom she had heard so much, and having received his blessing she proceeded to Rome, leaving in his care her little son. The day before her return to Florence, the child died. She was overwhelmed with grief, and took the child and laid him down at the feet of St. Zenobio, who, by the efficacy of his prayers, restored the child to life, and gave him back to the arms of his mother" (Mrs. Jameson, Sacred and Legendary Art, p. 415).

1284. ST. FRANCIS AND ST. MARK.

Antonio Vivarini (Venetian: died 1470). See 768.

A companion panel to the one already in the Gallery; see 768. The design of the pedestal is, it will be seen, the same in both.

1285. PORTRAIT OF NAPOLEON I.

Horace Vernet (French: 1789-1863).

Emile John Horace Vernet, soldier and artist, was the grandson of Claude Joseph Vernet (236). He was decorated in 1814 by Napoleon for his gallant conduct before the enemy at the Barrière de Clichy, on which occasion he served in a regiment of hussars. In the Louvre there is a picture by him representing the defence of Paris on that occasion. On the fall of the Empire he left France for a time, but he gradually won the favour of the court. In 1833 he joined the French army at Algiers, and there gathered material for the huge battle-pieces which he painted for Louis Philippe. The Crimean War furnished him with another congenial set of subjects. His work had a great vogue in its day, but owed more to its patriotic and stirring subject-matter than to abiding artistic qualities.

Less ideal than the beautiful sketch which David made of Napoleon as First Consul, or the later conventional pictures painted for a generation which had not seen the original. There is no dreamy intensity in the eyes, and no engaging smile. The famous lock in the centre of the forehead is there, and the face is still handsome, imposing, and resolute; but there is already something of the heaviness which presaged his fall.

1286. A BOY DRINKING.

Murillo (Spanish: 1618-1682). See 13.

"The boy is resting his left arm on a table and holding a square bottle, like one of those used for schiedam. The head is finely modelled, with a firm, broad touch; the bright eyes are deep set under the brow, and they betray eager delight in the draught he is taking. The flesh tones are unusually pure and bright for Murillo. The picture seems to be that which, named 'A Spanish Youth Drinking,' was sold in 1836 with Lord Charles Townshend's collection for £414. With the Earl of Clare's pictures was sold, in 1864, 'A Peasant holding a Bottle and drinking from a Glass,' which had belonged to Prince Talleyrand and Lord C. Townshend,' for £1365" (Athenæum).

1287. INTERIOR OF AN ART GALLERY.

Dutch School (17th Century).

Of interest alike for its technical skill and for its historical information. No less than forty-two pictures hang upon the walls of the "Art Gallery," and the collection is very interesting as showing the taste of an amateur of the period. In addition to these, there are globes, gems, maps, engravings, nautical instruments, pieces of sculpture, and other "objects of vertu"—all painted with miniature-like delicacy. Especially charming is an elaborately inlaid cabinet with china and other "curios" upon it. Notice also the fine Persian carpet. The art treasures are being eagerly scanned by several groups of connoisseurs, whilst—with a touch, perhaps, of satiric intent—a monkey is perched on the window-sill, criticising the critics. It is interesting to note that with only three exceptions all the paintings depicted in the Art Gallery are in black frames. This was the common practice with the Low Country painters. Several of the latest additions to the Dutch pictures in the Gallery are in their original black frames. The famous Teniers at Vienna of "The Archduke's Gallery" is an equally apt illustration of the taste of Dutch and Flemish painters (Athenæum, 2nd January 1892).

1288. FROST SCENE.

Aart van der Neer (Dutch: 1619-1692). See 152.

1289. LANDSCAPE WITH CATTLE.

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

A characteristic little work. In the distance is a ruined castle-keep in the water, which may be the same building as that depicted in No. 824.

1291. THE ASSUMPTION OF THE VIRGIN.

Juan de Valdes Leal (Spanish: 1630-1691).

Valdes Leal, who was born at Cordova, settled afterwards at Seville, where he became the first President of the Academy in that city. It is to him that some critics have assigned the "Dead Orlando" in this room (741). His most famous picture—"one of the most repulsive, but also most impressive ever painted," says Mr. W. B. Scott—is "The Two Dead Men," in the Hospital of Charity at Seville, representing a charnel house with the partially-decayed corpses of a bishop and a noble. So dreadful is the realism that Murillo said he never could approach the picture without fancying he smelt the horror. "Ah, my compeer," replied the flattered realist, "it is not my fault; you have taken all the sweet fruit out of the basket and left only the rotten."

In the present picture Valdes Leal has picked sweet fruit too; indeed it is over sweet. The donatrix of the picture and her son are shown in either corner, while in the midst the Virgin ascends to Heaven, surrounded by bands of angels. The picture is thoroughly characteristic, in its florid type of sentiment, of the Spanish school.

1292. A FAMILY GROUP.

Jan van Bylert (Dutch: 1603-1671).

A painter of Utrecht; entered the Guild of Painters there in 1630, and repeatedly filled the office of its Dean. Studied at Utrecht under A. Bloemaert, and afterwards visited Italy and France. His works are numerous in the galleries of Amsterdam and Utrecht.

They are plain old people, truth to tell, this group of two Dutch housewives and a Dutch burgher, and they are somewhat too obviously sitting for their portraits. How prim and neat all the surroundings are! how pretty is the trailing rose on the balustrade! and with what quiet, unobtrusive fidelity the whole picture is painted!

1293. MUSICAL PASTIME.

Jan Miense Molenaer (Dutch: died 1668).

This painter, the best of three artists of the same name, "excelled in representing peasant interiors and scenes of rustic life in a quiet style and in skilfully graduated tints. His colouring is warm and clear; his drawing spirited, and his touch full of life. Besides this, he possessed a certain refinement, and his humour never overstepped the bounds of decency. While his works retain characteristics peculiar to him, they manifest also something of the styles of Steen, Brauwer, and Ostade" (Havard: The Dutch School, p. 159). He was a native of Haarlem, and afterwards settled in Amsterdam. His earlier works (such as the present picture) suggest the tutelage of Frans Hals; the later works show the influence of Rembrandt.

This picture (which is signed on the side of the foot-warmer) is a capital example of the artist. "The fair faces of the singers are very spontaneously expressive of their gaiety, and have something of the animation of Jan Steen without his vulgar types and occasional grimace."

1294. AN ALLEGORICAL SUBJECT.

William van de Poorter (Dutch: painted 1630-1645).

This painter was a native of Haarlem, where he belonged to the Guild of Painters, and was a pupil of Rembrandt. In this picture the light, coming from the top on our left, falls on the globe and figure with Rembrandtesque effect.

The subject is perhaps a "Vigil of Arms," and may depict a knight or king passing the night before his investiture in the seclusion of a private chapel. On the altar before which he stands are a globe, two crowns, and several documents. His left hand is turned slightly forward, as if to call attention to the action, while in his right hand he holds a sceptre with its point resting on the globe. On the floor in front of the altar lie his arms and armour; behind, hangs his banner. On his head is a laurel wreath; and over a bright breastplate he wears the richly embroidered robe of his order.

1295. MADONNA AND CHILD, WITH SAINTS.

Girolamo Giovenone (Lombard: early 16th Century).

Giovenone was a native of Vercelli, in which city several fine pictures by him are preserved. Other painters who worked, or were born, at Vercelli are Macrino d' Alba (1200), Lanini (700), and Gaudenzio Ferrari (1465). By some critics our picture is assigned to another painter of the same school, Defendente Ferrari (see Catalogue of the Burlington Fine Arts Club's Exhibition, 1898, p. lxxix.). Examples of both painters may be seen in the Turin Gallery.

The Virgin and Child are flanked by the kneeling figures of two men, perhaps brothers, who were doubtless the donors of the picture. Behind each of them stands his patron saint, patting the devotee approvingly on the back. The Virgin's face is charming; so also are two little angels, who are quaintly perched up aloft, one on either side sitting on ledges of the canopied throne. The picture is a good example of symmetry—almost exaggerated, one may think—in composition.

1296, 1297. LANDSCAPES.

Giuseppe Zais (Venetian: died 1784).

Zais, a Venetian, was a pupil of the Florentine landscape and decorative painter Zuccarelli (1702-1788) who settled for many years at Venice. Zuccarelli in 1752 came to this country, where in 1768 he became an original member of the Royal Academy. The works of Zais also for a time attracted the attention of English amateurs, but he died a pauper in the hospital of Treviso.

Amusing examples of the so-called "pastoral landscape," which found favour in the last century—the landscape painted "in praise of the country by men who lived in coffee-houses." Zais was nearly contemporary with Longhi, and shows us the same Venetians in villeggiatura whom Longhi shows us in town (see 1100 and 1101). In 1286 we see some "picturesque" farm-buildings on one side of a stream, with a "picturesque" cow-herd asleep; whilst on the other side is a party of gay ladies—dressed in crinolines and bows, and devoid of hats, shawls, or wraps—flirting with beaux. The companion picture (1297) is conceived in the same style; but the ladies are here fishing, though, to judge from the amateurishness of their proceeding, they are not likely to catch fish.

1298. LANDSCAPE: RIVER SCENE.

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

This picture, acquired in Florence in 1889 together with two by Zais (1296, 1297), was for some years attributed to the Venetian school. It is now recognised as a work of Patinir. The heavy blue tone of that painter's distances here gives way to a lighter colour; but the fantastic landscape has strong resemblances to No. 716. If by Patinir, the work is unique in being one of pure landscape, with no scriptural incident. "The earliest independent landscape that we possess by an old master, the first admission that inanimate nature pure and simple is worth making a picture of. In the left corner is the artist sketching, which is a sort of guarantee that he worked in the open air, and that he had been struck with the beauty of some such prospect.... He has been so used to regard landscape as an accessory that he does not dare to paint it except from a distance, or on any but a minute scale, and he enlivens it with signs of human industry in the raft and the limekiln. It is as though a landscape had stepped out of the background of some old picture, and asserted its independence with fear and trembling" (Monkhouse: In the National Gallery, p. 202).

1299. PORTRAIT OF A YOUTH.

Domenico Ghirlandajo (Florentine: 1449-1494). See 1230.

It is interesting to compare this portrait with Botticelli's of a somewhat similar subject (No. 626). Both were probably "good likenesses"; but Ghirlandajo's is less forcible and impressive than Botticelli's.

1300. VIRGIN AND CHILD.

Unknown (Milanese School: 15th-16th Century).

Apparently by a follower of Leonardo.

1301. PORTRAIT OF SAVONAROLA.

Unknown (Florentine: 15th Century).

A portrait of the great patriot-priest of Florence (1452-1498), whose strange career is familiar to all readers of George Eliot's Romola. Ultimately he was condemned to death, with his two disciples; and on the back of the portrait is a representation of their execution. They were hung on a cross, and burnt.

1302. THE SOUL OF ST. BERTIN.

1303. A CHOIR OF ANGELS.

Simon Marmion (French: 1425-1489).

These two panels are the uppermost portions of an altar-screen painted for the Abbey Church of St. Bertin at St. Omer. The remaining portions are now in the King's Palace at the Hague. These shutters, and a diptych belonging to the Duc d'Aumale, are the only works that have come down to us of Marmion, a painter of Valenciennes, worthy (according to the chroniclers of his time) of great admiration. The two panels before us had been reposing for thirty years in a lumber-room at the South Kensington Museum.

1304. MARCUS CURTIUS.

Unknown (Umbrian School: 16th Century).

So described in the Official Catalogue. By Signor Frizzoni the picture is considered to be of the Florentine school, and is ascribed to Francesco Ubertini, for whom see No. 1218 (Archivio Storico dell' Arte, 1895, p. 104).

The subject is supposed to be that of the Roman youth who sacrificed himself by leaping into a chasm which (said the oracle) would never close until Rome threw into it the most precious thing she had. What did Rome possess more precious than her arms and courage, said Curtius as he prepared to leap, in full armour, into the gulf. If this be the subject here represented, the picture shows in an interesting way the frank anachronism of the early painters, for the local colour is certainly not that of the Roman Forum, where Curtius took his self-sacrificing leap. The picture bears strong resemblance to Raphael's earlier manner, as any visitor will see who compares it with the "Vision of a Knight" (213). "Michael Field" has put the sentiment of the picture into verse in Sight and Song:—

1305. A FAMILY GROUP.

G. Donck (Dutch: 17th Century).

There are other signed pictures by this little known painter in private collections in Vienna. They bear the dates 1627 and 1635.

Portraits of Jan van Hensbeeck and his wife, Maria Koeck, with their infant child between them.

1308. PORTRAIT OF A MAN.

J. B. Martinez del Mazo (Spanish: 1610-1687).

Juan Bautista Martinez del Mazo, the favourite pupil and the son-in-law of Velazquez, whom he succeeded in 1661 as painter to the Spanish Court. In portraiture Mazo was an imitator of the great master; he also painted hunting pieces and landscapes. His view of Zaragoza, now in the Madrid Gallery, is celebrated.

A very short thick-set figure; possibly a portrait of one of Philip IV.'s court dwarfs.

1309. PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG MAN.

Bernardino Licinio (Venetian: painted 1524-1541).

The above are the earliest and latest dates on his pictures. He was a native of Pordenone, in Friuli; a pupil and relative of the better known painter who is called after that place. There are two pictures by Bernardino at Hampton Court—"A Lady playing on the virginals," of rich though muddy colouring; and "A Family Group" (dated 1524)—monotonous in composition, but brilliant in colour (see Mary Logan's Guide, p. 25). He also painted altar-pieces, among which one in the Frari at Venice is the best.