B. THE COLLECTIONS

[The Collections in the Louvre have no such necessary organic connection with Paris itself as Notre-Dame and the Sainte-Chapelle, or even those in the rooms at Cluny. They may, therefore, be examined by the visitor at any period of his visit that he chooses. I would advise him, however, whenever he takes them up, to begin with the paintings, in the order here enumerated, and then to go on to the Classical and Renaissance Sculpture. The last-named, at least, he should only examine in connection with the rest of Renaissance Paris. Also, while it is unimportant whether he takes first Painting or Sculpture, it is very important that he should take each separately in the chronological order here enumerated. He should not skip from room to room, hap-hazard, but see what he sees systematically.

At least six days—far more, if possible—should be devoted to the Louvre Collections—by far the most important objects to be seen in Paris. Of these, four should be assigned to the Paintings, and one each to the Classical and Renaissance Sculpture. If this is impossible, do not try to see all; see a little thoroughly. Confine yourself, for Painting, to the Salon Carré and the Salle des Primitifs, and for Sculpture, to a hasty walk through the Classical Gallery and to the three Western rooms of the Renaissance collection.

The object of the hints which follow is not to describe the Collections in the Louvre; it is to put the reader on the right track for understanding and enjoying them. It is impossible to make people admire beautiful things; but if you begin by trying to comprehend them, you will find admiration and sympathy grow with comprehension. Religious symbolism is the native language of early art, and you cannot expect to understand the art if you do not take the trouble to learn the language in which it is written. Therefore, do not walk listlessly through the galleries, with a glance, right or left, at what happens to catch your eye; begin at the beginning, work systematically through what parts you choose, and endeavour to grasp the sequence and evolution of each group separately. Stand or sit long before every work, till you feel you know it; and return frequently. Remember, too, that I do not point out always what is most worthy of notice, but rather suggest a mode of arriving at facts which might otherwise escape you. Many beautiful objects explain themselves, or fall so naturally into their proper place in a series that you will readily discover their meaning and importance without external aid. With others, you may need a little help, to suggest a point of view, and that is all that these brief notes aim at. Do not be surprised if I pass by many beautiful and interesting things; if you find them out for yourself, there is no need to enlarge upon them. Should these hints succeed in interesting you in the succession and development of art, get Mrs. Jameson and Kugler, and read up at leisure in your rooms all questions suggested to you by your visits to the galleries. My notes are intended to be looked at before the objects themselves, and merely to open a door to their right comprehension.

The galleries are open, free, daily, except Mondays. Painting from 9, Sculpture from 11. For details, see Baedeker.]

I. PAINTINGS.

Take Baedeker’s Plan of the Galleries (1st Floor) with you. Enter by the door in the Pavillon Denon. (Sticks and umbrellas left here; tip optional.) Turn to L and traverse long hall with reproductions of famous antiques in bronze (Laocoon, Medici Venus, Apollo Belvedere, etc.), which those who do not intend to visit Rome and Florence will do well to examine. Observe, in passing, in the centre of the hall, a fine antique sarcophagus, with figures in high relief, representing the story of Achilles. Begin on the furthest side of the sarcophagus: (1) Achilles, disguised as a woman, among the daughters of Lycomedes, in order to avoid the Trojan war; (2) is discovered by Ulysses as a pedlar, through his choice of arms instead of trinkets; (3) arming himself for the combat; and (4, modern) Priam redeeming the body of Hector. (The work originally stood against a wall, and had therefore three decorative sides only.) Further on, fine sarcophagus from Salonica, Roman period, with Combat of Amazons, representing on the lid husband and wife, couched, somewhat after the Etruscan fashion.

Mount the staircase (Escalier Daru). Near the top is the famous Nikè of Samothrace, a much-mutilated winged figure of Victory, standing like a figure-head on the prow of a trireme. It was erected by Demetrius Poliorcetes, in commemoration of a naval engagement in B.C. 305. Attitude and drapery stamp the work as one of the finest products of Hellenic art. Victory alights on the vessel of the conqueror.

Turn to your L just before reaching the last flight, and pass several Etruscan sarcophagi and sarcophagus-shaped funereal urns, many with the deceased and his wife on the lid, accompanied in some cases by protecting genii. The early Etruscans buried; the later often burned their dead, but continued to enclose the ashes in miniature sarcophagi. At the top, on the L, a fresco by Fra Angelico, the Dominican painter, St. Dominic embracing the Cross, with the Madonna and St. John Evangelist: not a first-rate example of the master. End wall, R of door, a fresco by Botticelli, Giovanni Tornabuoni receiving the Muses. Opposite it, L of door, another by the same, Giovanna his wife receiving the Graces, and accompanied by Cupid. These two frescoes stood in the hall of the owner’s villa, and gracefully typify the husband entertaining Literature, Science, and Art, while the wife extends hospitality to Love, Youth, and Beauty. Descend one flight of staircase again, passing yet other Etruscan sarcophagi (which examine), and, mounting opposite stairs, pass the Nikè and turn to your R. Traverse the photograph-room and the Salle Duchâtel beyond it, as well as the Salon Carré. Enter the Long Gallery, and, taking the first door to your R, you arrive at once in Room I (Baedeker’s VII), the

Salle des Primitifs.

The pictures in this room consist for the most part of those by early followers of Giotto, and by members of the schools which sprang from him, till the moment of the Renaissance. As these earliest pictures strike the key-note of types, continued and developed later, it is absolutely necessary to examine them all very closely. In most cases, subject and treatment were rigorously prescribed by custom; scenes recur again and again, almost identically. Where saints are grouped round the Madonna, they were ordered by the purchaser, and oftenest represent his own patrons. In order to obtain a chronological view, begin at the centre of the end wall. Most of these pictures are altar-pieces. I follow the small numbers below, the only ones for which a detailed catalogue is yet published.

*153. Cimabue (the point of departure for Tuscan art); Madonna and Child with six angels. Almost a replica of the great picture in Santa Maria Novella at Florence; gold ground; the Madonna’s face still strongly Byzantine in type, with almond-shaped eyes; the Child, draped, after the earlier fashion. Later, he is represented nude. Observe, however, the greater artistic freedom in the treatment of the attendant angels, where Cimabue was slightly less hampered by conventional precedents. Do not despise this picture because of its stiffness and its archaic style. It is an immense advance upon the extremely wooden Byzantine models which preceded it: and in the angels it really approaches correctness of drawing.

225. (Skied) Don Lorenzo Monaco. A Tabernacle for an altar of St. Lawrence; centre, St. Lawrence, enthroned on his gridiron; L, St. Agnes with her lamb; R, St. Margaret with her dragon, all on gold grounds. A poor example. This Saint is usually represented in deacon’s robes. The other saints are probably those who shared the chapel with him. See the much later St. Margaret by Raphael as an example of Renaissance treatment of the same figure.

*192. Giotto. St. Francis receiving the Stigmata. A genuine picture, painted for the saint’s own church of San Francesco at Pisa; one of the earliest representations of this subject, often afterwards copied. Christ, as a six-winged seraph, red-feathered, appears in heaven to the Saint; rays proceed from his five wounds to the hands, feet, and side of St. Francis, which they impress with similar marks. A mountain represents La Vernia; two tiny buildings, the monastery. Compare with this subject two smaller treatments in the same room, both on the lowest tier: one, to the L as you go towards the door, 431, of the school of Perugino, where an attendant Brother (Leo) is seen astonished at the vision; the second on the R, 287, attributed to Pesello, and closely similar in treatment. Careful comparison of these pictures will serve to show the close way in which early painters imitated, or almost copied one another. The base (or predella) of the Giotto also contains three other subjects: Innocent III, asleep, is shown by St. Peter the falling church sustained by St. Francis; he confirms the Franciscan order; St. Francis preaches to the birds. All very spirited. Notice these little pictures for comparison later with others painted in the Dominican interest by Fra Angelico.

Continuing along L wall are some small pictures of the Sienese school, which should be carefully examined. (Do not suppose that because I do not call attention to a picture it is necessarily unworthy of notice.) Most of these little works breathe the pure piety and ecstatic feeling of the School of Siena.

**426. Perugino. Tondo, or round picture; the Madonna Enthroned; L, St. Rose with her roses; R, St. Catherine with her palm of martyrdom; behind, adoring angels. An exquisite example of the affected tenderness, delicate grace, and brilliant colouring of the Umbrian master, from whose school Raphael proceeded. An early specimen. Observe the dainty painting of the feet and hands, which is highly characteristic.

Beneath it, 1701, Gentile da Fabriano. Presentation in the Temple. Look closely into it. A delicate little example of the Umbrian rival of Fra Angelico. The arrangement will explain many later ones. Every one of the figures and their attitudes are conventional.

427. Perugino. Madonna and Child, with St. John Baptist and St. Catherine. The introduction of St. John shows the picture to have been probably painted for a Florentine patron. Not a pleasing example.

Beneath it, Vittore Pisano, characteristic portrait of an Este princess, in the hard, dry, accurate manner of this Veronese medallist, who borrowed from his earlier art the habit of painting profiles in strong low relief, with a plastic effect.

Perugino. St. Sebastian. One of the loveliest examples of the Umbrian master’s later manner. Contrasted with the Madonna and St. Rose it shows the distance covered by art during the painter’s lifetime. Observe its greater freedom and knowledge of anatomy. St. Sebastian, bound as usual to a pillar in a ruined temple, is pierced through with arrows. Face, figure, and expression are unusually fine for Perugino. Sebastian was the great saint for protection against the plague, and pictures containing him are almost always votive offerings under fear of that pestilence. Many in this gallery. The face here is finer than in any other presentation I know, except Sodoma’s in the Uffizi at Florence.

258. Lombard or Piedmontese School. Annunciation. An unusual treatment; the Madonna, as always, kneels at a prie-dieu, and starts away, alarmed and timid, at the apparition of the angel Gabriel. The action, as usual, takes place in a loggia, but the angel is represented as descending in flight through the air, an extremely uncommon mode of depicting him. He bears the white lily of the Annunciation. The other details are conventional. Contrast with this subsequent Annunciations in this Gallery. L, are St. Augustin and St. Jerome; R, St. Stephen, bearing on his head, as often, the stones of his martyrdom, accompanied by St. Peter Martyr the Dominican, with the knife in his head. Both saints carry palms of martyrdom. A good picture in a hard, dry, local manner.

Now cross over to the opposite side of the room, beginning at the bottom, in order to preserve the chronological sequence.

196. School of Giotto. Madonna in Glory, with angels. Compare this treatment carefully with Cimabue’s great picture close by, in order to notice the advance in art made in the interval. The subject and general arrangement are the same, but observe the irregularity in the placing of the angels, and the increased knowledge of anatomy and expression.

Close by are several other Giottesque pictures, all of which should be closely examined; especially 425, Vanni, the same subject, for comparison. The little Giottesque Death of St. Bernard, in particular, is a characteristic example or type of a group which deals in the same manner with saintly obsequies. All of them will suggest explanations of later pictures. In all these cases, the saint lies on a bier in the foreground, surrounded by mourning monks and ecclesiastics. The key-note was struck by Giotto’s fresco of the Death of St. Francis at Santa Croce in Florence.

187. Agnolo Gaddi. Annunciation; a characteristic example. Note the loggia, and the angel with the lily; the introduction of a second angel, however, is a rare variation from the type. In the corner is the Father despatching the Holy Spirit. Attitude of the Madonna characteristic; study carefully. No subject sheds more light on the methods of early art than the Annunciation. It always takes place in an arcade: the Madonna is almost always to the right of the picture: and prie-dieu, book, and bed are frequent accessories.

666. Quaint little Florentine picture of St. Nicolas, throwing three purses of gold as a dowry inside the house of a poor and starving nobleman.

Next to it, unnumbered, Gregory the Great sees the Angel of the Plague sheathing his sword on the Castle of St. Angelo, so called from this vision.

494. St. Jerome in the Desert; lion, skull, crucifix, rocks, cardinal’s hat, all characteristic of the subject. In the foreground, a Florentine lily; in the background, Christ and the infant Baptist, patron of Florence; background L, St. Augustine and the angel who tries to empty the sea into a hole made with a bucket—a well-known allegory of the attempt of the finite to comprehend the Infinite. Look out elsewhere for such minor episodes.

Fra Angelico. Martyrdom of Sts. Cosmo and Damian, the holy physicians and (therefore) patron saints of the Medici family; a characteristic example of the saintly friar’s colouring in small subjects. These two Medici saints are naturally frequent in Florentine art.

662. Fra Angelico. Story of the death of St. John Baptist. Three successive episodes represented in the same picture. The lithe figure of the daughter of Herodias, dancing, is very characteristic.

166. Battle scene, by Paolo Uccello. Showing vigorous efforts at mastery of perspective and foreshortening, as yet but partially successful. The wooden character of the horses is conspicuous. Paolo Uccello was one of the group of early scientific artists, who endeavoured to improve their knowledge of optics and of the sciences ancillary to painting.

199. Benozzo Gozzoli. Glory of St. Thomas Aquinas, the great Dominican teacher. This is an apotheosis of scholasticism, in the person of its chief representative. R and L stand Aristotle and Plato, the heathen philosophers, in deferential attitudes, recognising their master. Beneath his feet is Guillaume de St. Amour, a vanquished heretic. Below, the entire Church—pope, cardinals, doctors—receiving instruction from St. Thomas. Above, the Eternal Father signifying His approval in a Latin inscription, surrounded by the Evangelists with their symbols—angel, winged lion, bull, eagle. The inscription imports, “Thomas has well spoken of Me.” The style is archaic: the council is supposed to be that of Agnani, presided over by Pope Alexander IV. Among the celestial personages, notice St. Paul, Moses, and others. Pictures of this double sort, embracing scenes in heaven and on earth, are common in Italy.

Beneath it (287), part 2. Pesello. St. Cosmo and St. Damian affixing the leg of a dead Moor to a wounded Christian, on whom they have been compelled to practise amputation. The costumes are the conventional ones for these saints. Remember them. This astounding miracle is often represented at Florence: the dead man’s leg grew on the living one.

**182. Fra Angelico. A Coronation of the Virgin, painted for a Dominican church at Fiesole. In the foreground, St. Louis of France, with a crown of fleur-de-lis; St. Zenobius, Bishop of Florence, with the lamb of the Baptist on his crosier (indicating his see); St. Mary Magdalen, in red, with long yellow hair (so almost always), and (her symbol) the box of ointment; St. Catherine with her wheel; St. Agnes with her lamb, and others. Above St. Louis stands St. Dominic, founder of Fra Angelico’s order, recognisable by his robes, with his red star and white lily (the usual attributes); beneath him, a little to the R, St. Thomas Aquinas, with a book sending forth rays of light, to signify his teaching function. Near him, St. Francis. Other Saints, such as St. Lawrence with his gridiron, and St. Peter Martyr, the Dominican, with his wounded head, must be left to the spectator. In the background, choirs of angels. Beneath, in the predella, the history of St. Dominic (marked by a red star); Pope Innocent in a dream sees him sustaining the falling Church (a Dominican variant of the story of St. Francis in the Giotto, at the end): he receives his commission from St. Peter and St. Paul; he restores to life the young man Napoleon, killed by a fall from a horse (seen to left); he converts heretics and burns their books; he is fed with his brethren by angels in his convent at Rome; and his death and apotheosis. This picture deserves most careful study—say two hours. It is one of Fra Angelico’s finest easel paintings (his best are frescoes), and it is full of interest for its glorification of the Dominicans. Compare the St. Thomas Aquinas with Benozzo Gozzoli’s: and remember in studying the predella that St. Dominic founded the Inquisition. The tender painting of this lovely work needs no commendation.

222. School of Filippo Lippi. Madonna and angels, characteristic of the type of this painter and his followers.

Above it, Neri di Bicci. Madonna, very wooden. He was a belated Giottesque, who turned out such antiquated types by hundreds in the 15th century.

School of Benozzo Gozzoli. Madonna and Child. L, St. Cosmo and St. Damian, with pens and surgeons’ boxes; St. Jerome, with stone, lion, and cardinal’s hat; his pen and book denote him as translator of the Vulgate. R, St. John Baptist (representing Florence); St. Francis with the Stigmata; St. Lawrence. The combination of Saints shows the picture to have been painted in compliment to Lorenzo de’ Medici. Minor subjects around it are worthy of study.

Now cross over the room again. You come at once upon four pictures of nearly the same size, painted for the Court of the Gonzaga family at Mantua. Allegorical subjects, intended for the decoration of a hall or boudoir. Most of those pictures we have hitherto examined have been sacred: we now get an indication of the nascent Renaissance taste for myth and allegory.

429. Perugino. Combat of Love and Chastity. A frequent subject for such situations, showing Perugino at his worst. Compare it with the other three of the series.

253. Mantegna. Wisdom conquering the Vices. A characteristic but unpleasing example of this great Paduan painter. Admirable in anatomy, drawing, and perspective: poor in effect. Observe the festoons in the background, which are favourites with the artist and his school.

*252. Mantegna. The amours of Mars and Venus discovered by (her husband) Vulcan. A beautiful composition. The guilty pair, with a couch, stand on a mountain, representing Parnassus, accompanied by Cupid. Below, exquisite group of the Nine Muses dancing (afterwards imitated by Guido). To the L, Apollo with his lyre, as musician. R, Mercury and Pegasus. In the background, the injured Vulcan discovering the lovers. This splendid specimen of early Renaissance art is one of Mantegna’s finest. Study it in detail, and compare with the other three which it accompanies. Observe the life and movement in the dancing Muses: also, the growing Renaissance love for the nude, exemplified in the Venus.

154. Costa. The Court of Isabella d’Este. The meaning of the figures is now undecipherable, but the general character indicates peace, and devotion to literature, science and art. A fine example of the Ferrarese master.

Between these four, **Mantegna; (251), Madonna della Vittoria, a most characteristic picture, painted for Giovanni Francesco Gonzaga, Marquis of Mantua, to commemorate his victory over Charles VIII of France. The Madonna is enthroned under a most characteristic canopy of fruit and flowers, with pendents of coral and other decorative adjuncts. L, Gonzaga himself, kneeling in gratitude—a ruffianly face, well-painted. R, St. Elizabeth, mother of the Baptist, with St. John Baptist himself, representing the Marquis’s wife. Behind, the patron Saints of Mantua, who assisted in the victory: St. Michael the Archangel (the warrior saint—a most noble figure), St. Andrew (Mantegna’s name-Saint), St. Longinus, who pierced the side of Christ, and St. George. The whole is exquisitely beautiful. The detail deserves long and attentive study. The reliefs on the pedestal are characteristic. From the church of the same name, erected in commemoration of the victory (of the Taro). I will return hereafter at greater length to this lovely picture.

Above, to the L (*418), Cosimo Tura. Pietà, or body of Christ wept over by the Madonna and angels. In drawing and colouring, a characteristic example of this harsh, but very original and powerful, Ferrarese master. You will come hereafter on many Pietàs. Compare them all, and note the attitude and functions of the angels.

Cross over again to the opposite side. (183), Botticelli. Round Madonna and angels, very characteristic as to the drawing, but inferior in technique to most of his works.

221. Filippo Lippi. Madonna in Glory, with angels. The roundness of the faces, especially in the child angels, is very characteristic. At her feet, two Florentine patron saints. The absence of symbols makes them difficult to identify, but I think they represent St. Zenobius and St. Antonine. Very fine.

184. Botticelli. Madonna and Child, with St. John of Florence. The wistful expressions strike the key-note of this painter. Compare with nameless Florentine Madonna of the same school above it.

220. Fra Filippo Lippi. Nativity. Worthy of careful study, especially for the accessories: St. Joseph, the stall and bottle, the saddle, ox and ass, and wattles, ruined temple, etc., which reappear in many similar pictures. Not a favourable example of the master. Beneath it, little fragments with St. Peter Martyr, Visitation, Christ and Magdalen, meeting of Francis and Dominic, and St. Paul the Hermit. An odd conglomeration, whose meaning cannot now be deciphered. The ruined temple, frequently seen in Nativities and Adorations of the Magi, typifies the downfall of Paganism before the advance of Christianity.

Beside it, Ghirlandajo. Portrait of bottle-nosed man and child. Admirable and characteristic.

**202. Ghirlandajo. Visitation. Probably the master’s finest easel picture. Splendid colour. Attitudes of the Madonna and St. Elizabeth characteristic of the type. The scene habitually takes place in front of a portal, as here, with the heads of the main actors more or less silhouetted against the arch in the background. At the sides, Mary Salome, and “the other Mary.” Such saints are introduced merely as spectators: they need not even be contemporary: they are included in purely ideal groupings. At Florence, in a similar scene, the as yet unborn St. John the Baptist stands by as an assessor.

185. Venus and Cupid, of the school of Botticelli. Very pleasing.

347. Cosimo Rosselli. Madonna in an almond-shaped glory (Mandorla) of red and blue cherubs. L, the Magdalen; R, St. Bernard, to whom she appeared, writing down his vision; about, adoring angels. A characteristic example of this harsh Florentine painter.

156. We come at once upon the High Renaissance in Lorenzo di Credi’s beautiful Virgin and Child, flanked by St. Julian and St. Nicholas. Observe the three balls of gold in the corner by the latter’s feet, representative of the three purses thrown to the nobleman’s daughters. Notice also the Renaissance architecture and decorations. In pictures of this class, the saints to accompany the Madonna were ordered by the person giving the commission; the artist could only exercise his discretion as to the grouping. Notice how this varies with the advance of the Renaissance: at first stiffly placed in pairs, the saints finally form a group with characteristic action. The execution of this lovely work shows Lorenzo as one of the finest artists of his period.

70. Bianchi, a rare Ferrarese master. Madonna enthroned, with Saints. The angel on the step is characteristically Ferrarese, as are also the reliefs and architecture.

467. Ascetic figure of San Giovanni di Capistrano.

435. School of Perugino. Little Madonna, in an almond-shaped glory of cherubs. The shape belongs to Christ, or saints, ascending into glory.

Next it, front of a chest, containing the story of Europa and the Bull. Several episodes are combined in a single picture. To the extreme L, the transformed lover, like the prince in a fairy tale. Most gracefully treated.

61. Bellini. Madonna and Child, between St. Peter and St. Sebastian; a plague picture. These half-length Madonnas are very characteristic of Venetian art of the period. The Madonna’s face and strong neck also very Venetian. Observe them as the type on which Titian’s are modelled. Look long at this soft and melting picture. The gentle noble face, the dainty dress, the beautiful painting of the nude in the St. Sebastian, are all redolent of the finest age of Venetian painting.

Above it, a good Tura. Compare with previous one.

60. School of Gentile Bellini. Venetian ambassador received at Cairo. Oriental tinge frequent at Venice. This gate can still be recognised at Cairo. The figures are all portraits, and the painter probably accompanied the ambassador, Domenico Trevisano.

Beneath it (59), two fine portraits by Gentile Bellini.

664. Characteristic little Montagna; angels at the base of a Madonna now destroyed. Compare the Bianchi almost opposite. Such angels are frequent in the school of Bellini.

152. Attributed to Cima. Madonna Enthroned, with St. John Baptist and the Magdalen. These lofty thrones and landscape backgrounds of the Friuli country are frequent with Cima and Venetian painters of his period.

113. Carpaccio. Preaching of St. Stephen. One of a series of the Life of St. Stephen, now scattered. The saint is in deacon’s robes, as usual; oriental costumes mark the intercourse of Venice with the East. Observe the architecture, a graceful compound of Venetian and oriental.

Over the doorway, Fresco of God the Father, in an almond-shaped glory, from the Villa Magliana. Purchased as a Raphael, probably by Lo Spagna.

Return frequently to this room, and study it deeply. It will give you the key to all the others.

Now traverse the Salon Carré and enter the

Salle Duchâtel.

On the R wall are two exquisite frescoes by Luini, removed entire from walls in Milan. To the L, the Adoration of the Magi, exquisitely tender and graceful; study it closely as an example both of painter and subject, noting the ages and attitudes of the Three Kings, the youngest (as usual) a Moor, and the exquisite face and form of the Madonna. To the R, a Nativity, equally characteristic. Look long at them. Between, Christ blessing, not quite so beautiful; and Genii with grapes, an antique motive. Above are three other frescoes of the school of Luini, not so fine. Centre, Annunciation, the Madonna separated (as often) from the angel by a lily. The Madonna never approaches the angel, and is usually divided by a wall or barrier.

On the screen by door, good portraits by Antonio Moro.

Other side of door (680), Madonna and Child, with the donors of the picture, by Hans Memling. This beautiful Flemish picture well represents the characteristics of Flemish as opposed to Italian art. Notice the want of ideality in the Virgin and Child, contrasted with the admirable portraiture of the donors, the chief of whom is introduced by his namesake, St. James, recognisable by his staff and scallop-shell. The female donors, several of whom are Dominican nuns, are similarly introduced by their founder, St. Dominic, whose black-and-white robes and star-like halo serve to identify him. Observe the exquisite finish of the hair and all the details. Study this work for the Flemish spirit.

At the far end of the room are two pictures by Ingres, marking the interval covered by French art during the lifetime of that great painter. L, Œdipus and the Sphinx, produced in the classical period of the master’s youth, while he was still under the malign influence of David. R, La Source, perhaps the most exquisitely virginal delineation of the nude ever achieved in painting.

After having traversed these two rooms the spectator will probably be able to attack the

Salon Carré,

which contains what are considered by the authorities as the gems of the collection, irrespective of period or country (a very regrettable jumble). Almost all of them, therefore, deserve attention. I shall direct notice here chiefly to those which require some explanation. Begin to the L of the door which leads from the Salle Duchâtel.

Close to the door, Apollo and Marsyas: a delicate little Perugino, attributed to Raphael. Good treatment of the nude, and painted like a miniature. Renaissance feeling. Compare it with the St. Sebastian in the Salle des Primitifs.

Above it, Jehan de Paris. Madonna and Child, with the donors; a characteristic and exceptionally beautiful example of the early French school. Contrast its character with the Italian and Flemish. Extremely regal and fond of tinsel ornament.

20. Correggio. Jupiter and Antiope, a good example of his Correggiosity and marvellous arrangement of light and shade. Very late Renaissance. Perfection of art; very little feeling.

*446. Titian. Entombment. A fine but faded example of the colour and treatment of the prince of the Venetian Renaissance.

231. Luini. Virgin and Child. Not a pleasing example.

*419 and **417. Two admirable portraits by Rembrandt.

**250. Mantegna. Crucifixion, predella or base of the great picture in San Zeno at Verona. Notice the admirable antique character of the soldiers casting lots for Christ’s raiment. The rocks are very Mantegnesque in treatment. One of the artist’s finest pictures. Spend some time before it. We will return again to this fine painting.

381. Andrea del Sarto. Holy Family. Showing well the character of this master’s tender and melting colour: also, the altered Renaissance treatment of the subject.

Beyond the doorway, two dainty little Memlings. Marriage of St. Catherine (the Alexandrian princess) to the Infant Christ; and, the Donor with St. John Baptist and his lamb. When a saint places his hand on a votary’s shoulder, it usually indicates the patron whose name the votary bears.

Near it, graceful little St. Sebastian of the Umbrian school. Compare with others. This plague-saint is one of the few to whom mediæval piety permitted nudity.

*370. Raphael. The great St. Michael, painted for François I^er. Admirable in its instantaneous dramatic action. This picture may be taken, in its spirit and vigour, as marking the culminating point of the Italian Renaissance as here represented.

Near it, Titian. The Man with the Glove: a fine portrait.

**19. Correggio. The Marriage of St. Catherine. This is a characteristic treatment, by the great painter of Parma, of this mystical subject. St. Catherine is treated as an Italian princess of his own time, on whose finger the infant Christ playfully places a ring. The action has absolutely no mystic solemnity. Behind, stands St. Sebastian, with his arrows to mark him (without them you would not know him from a classical figure), looking on with amused attention. His smile is lovely. In the background, episodes of the martyrdom of St. Sebastian, proving this to be probably a plague picture. But the whole work, though admirable as art, has in it nothing of religion, and may be aptly compared as to tone with the Education of Cupid by the same artist in the National Gallery. Nothing could surpass the beauty of the light and shade, and the exquisite colouring. Study it as a type of the last word of the humanist Renaissance against mediæval spirituality. Compare it with the Memling close by: and, if you have been at Milan, with the exquisitely dainty Luini in the Poldi-Pezzoli Museum.

Above it, a Holy Family by Murillo. Spanish and theatrical.

The greater part of this wall is taken up by an enormous canvas (95), by Paolo Veronese, representing the Marriage at Cana of Galilee, from the refectory (or dining-hall) of San Giorgio Maggiore at Venice. Pictures of this subject, or of the Last Supper, or of the Feast in the House of Levi, were constantly placed as appropriate decorations to fill the end wall of monastic refectories (like the famous Leonardo at Milan), and were often therefore gigantic in size. This monstrous and very effective composition (proudly pointed out by the guides as “the largest oil-painting in the world”) contains nothing of sacred, and merely reflects with admirable skill the lordly character of the Italian Renaissance. In the centre of the table, one barely notices the figures of the Christ and the Madonna. Attention is distracted both from them and from the miracle of the wine by the splendid architecture of the background, the loggias, the accessories, and the gorgeous guests, many of them representing contemporary sovereigns (among them François I^er, Eleanor of Austria, Charles V, and Sultan Soliman). The group of musicians in the centre foreground is also composed of portraits—this time of contemporary painters (Titian, Tintoretto, etc.). As a whole, a most characteristic picture both of the painter and his epoch, worth some study, and full of good detail.

**39. Giorgione. Pastoral scene, with nude figures. One of the few undoubted pictures by this master, whose genuineness is admitted by Morelli, though much repainted. Should be studied as an example of the full flush of the Venetian Renaissance, and of the great master who so deeply affected it. Notice the admirable painting of the nude, and the fine landscape in the background. Contrast with the Bellinis in the Salle des Primitifs, in order to mark time and show the advance in technique and spirit. Giorgione set a fashion, followed later by Titian and others. Compare this work with Titian’s Jupiter and Antiope in the Long Gallery.

Above it (*427) Rubens. Adoration of the Magi. A splendid picture. Interesting also as showing how far Rubens transformed the conceptions of the earlier masters. Compare it with the Luini in the Salle Duchâtel, and other Adorations in this gallery. Full of gorgeousness, dash, and certainty of execution.

37. Antonello da Messina. Characteristic hard-faced portrait by this excellent Sicilian artist.

**459. Leonardo. St. Anne and the Virgin. This great artist can be better studied in the Louvre than anywhere else in the world. This picture, not perhaps entirely by his own hand, is noticeable for the beautiful and very Leonardesque face of St. Anne, the playful figure of the infant Christ, and the admirable blue-toned landscape in the background. The smiles are also thoroughly Leonardesque. Notice the excellent drawing of the feet. The curious composition—the Virgin sitting on St. Anne’s lap—is traditional. Two or three examples of it occur in the National Gallery. Leonardo transformed it. He is the great scientific artist of the Florentine Renaissance.

208. Hans Holbein, the younger. Admirable portrait of Erasmus. Full of character. Note carefully. The hands alone are worth much study. How soft they are, and how absolutely the hands of a scholar immersed in his reading and writing.

108. Clouet. Elizabeth of Austria. A fine example of the early French school, marking well its hard manner and literal accuracy. It shows the style in vogue in Paris before the School of Fontainebleau (Italian artists introduced by François I^er) had brought in Renaissance methods.

**162. Van Eyck. Madonna and Child, with the Chancellor Rollin in adoration. Perhaps Van Eyck’s masterpiece. Notice the comparatively wooden Flemish Madonna and Child, contrasted with the indubitable vitality and character in the face of the Chancellor. This picture is a splendid example of the highest evolution of that type in which a votary is exhibited adoring the Madonna—the primitive form of portrait: “paint me in the corner, as giving the picture.” Every detail of this finished work deserves long and close inspection. Notice the elaboration of the ornaments, and the delicious glimpse of landscape through the arcade in the background. Compare with the Memlings; also, with contemporary Italian work in the Salle des Primitifs.

**362. Raphael. Madonna and Child, with infant St. John, known as La Belle Jardinière. To the familiar group of the Madonna and Child, Florentine painters and sculptors early added the infant Baptist, as patron of their city, thus forming a graceful pyramidal composition. This exquisite picture, by far the most beautiful Raphael in the Louvre, belongs to the great painter’s Florentine period. It should be compared with the very similar Madonna del Cardellino in the Uffizi at Florence. For simplicity of treatment and beauty of colouring this seems to me the loveliest of Raphael’s Madonnas, with the exception of the Granduca. Look at it long, for colour, design, and tender feeling. Then go back to the St. Michael, and see how, as Raphael gains in dramatic vigour, he loses in charm.

407. Rembrandt. Christ and the Disciples at Emmaus. A fine study in light and shade, and full of art, but not a sacred picture. Compare with other pictures of the scene in this gallery. The feeling is merely domestic.

433. Rubens. Tomyris, Queen of the Scythians, with the head of Cyrus. A fine, vigorous painting, with the action frankly transferred to the court of Henri IV. Dash and colour and all the Rubens attributes.

365. Raphael. Small Holy Family.

364. Raphael. Holy Family, known as the “Sainte Famille de François I^er”: Joseph, Madonna, infant Christ, St. Elizabeth and the Baptist, and adoring angels. Belongs to Raphael’s Roman period, and already vaguely heralds the decadence. Admirable in composition and painting, but lacking the simplicity and delicacy of colour of his earlier work. Compare it with the Belle Jardinière. It marks the distance traversed in art during his lifetime. The knowledge is far greater, the feeling less.

**142. Van Dyck. Charles I. A famous and splendid portrait, with all the courtly grace of this stately painter.

**462. Leonardo. Portrait of Mona Lisa. Most undoubted work of the master in existence. Has lost much of its flesh tints by darkening, but is still subtly beautiful. Compare with any of the portraits in the Salle des Primitifs, in order to understand the increase in science which made Leonardo the prince and leader of the Renaissance. The sweet and sphinx-like smile is particularly characteristic. Observe the exquisite modelling of the hands, and the dainty landscape background. Do not hurry away from it.

363. Raphael. Madonna with the infant St. John, known as “La Vierge au Voile.” A work of his early Roman period, intermediate in style between the Belle Jardinière and the François I^er. Compare them carefully.

Above it (379) Andrea del Sarto. Charity. A fine example of Andrea’s soft and tender colouring.

*523. Portrait of a young man. Long attributed to Raphael. More probably Franciabigio. Pensive and dignified.

452. Titian. Alphonso of Ferrara and his Mistress. A fine portrait, with its colour largely faded.

Above it, 154. Good portrait by Van Dyck.

539. Murillo. The Immaculate Conception. Luminous and pretty, in an affected showy Spanish manner. Foreshadows the modern religious art of the people. An immense favourite with the inartistic public.

**121. Gerard Dou. The Dropsical Woman. A triumph of Dutch painting of light and shade and detail. Faces like miniatures. The lamp and curtain like nature. Illuminated on the darkest day. Examine it attentively.

293. Metsu. Officer and Lady. Another masterpiece of Dutch minuteness, but far less fine in execution.

526. Ter Borch. Similar subject treated with coarse directness.

**551. Velasquez. The Infanta Marguerite—a famous portrait.

A little above it (229), Sebastiano del Piombo. Visitation. Compare with the Ghirlandajo in the Salle des Primitifs. A very favourable example of this Venetian master, painted in rivalry with Raphael. It well exhibits the height often attained, even by minor masters, at the culminating point of the Renaissance.

Above, occupying a large part of the wall, *Paolo Veronese. Christ and the Magdalen, at the supper in the house of Levi. Another refectory picture, treated in Veronese’s large and brilliant manner, essentially as a scene of lordly Venetian life. The Pharisee facing Christ is a fine figure. Notice the intrusion of animals and casual spectators, habitual with this artist. The sense of air and space is fine. The whole picture is instinct with Venetian feeling of the period; scenic, not sacred. A lordly treatment. Earlier painters set their scene in smaller buildings: the Venetians of this gorgeous age chose rather the Piazza of some mighty Renaissance Italian city. Here, the architecture recalls the style of Sansovino.

This room also contains many good works of the 17th century, justly skied. Examine them by contrast with the paintings of the best ages of art beneath them. Return to them later, after you have examined the works of the French artists in later rooms of this Gallery.

Now proceed into the

Long Gallery

which contains in its First Compartment works of the High Renaissance masters, transitional from the conventionality of the 15th, to the freedom of the 16th, and the theatrical tendency of the 17th centuries. Begin on the L, and follow that wall as far as the first archway.

Francia. Crucifixion, with Madonna and St. John, and Job extended at the feet of the cross, probably indicating a votive plague offering. A tolerable example of the great Bolognese painter, from the church of San Giobbe, patriarch and plague-saint, at Bologna.

Ansuino(?) Adoration of the Magi. Note coincidences with others.

308. Francia. Madonna. A fair example.

168. Dosso. St. Jerome in the Desert. Interesting as showing a later treatment of this familiar subject.

230. Luini. Holy Family. A good specimen of Luini’s easel work. Compare with the frescoes in the Salle Duchâtel. The hair is characteristic, also the oval face and cast of features.

Near it, two works by Marco da Oggiono, a pupil of Leonardo. His work and Luini’s should be compared with that of the founder of the school. The differences and agreements should be observed. Notice also the survivals from earlier treatment.

354. Sacchi. The Four Doctors of the Church, attended by the Symbols of the Four Evangelists. This is a composition which frequently recurs in early art. L, St. Augustine, holding his book “De Civitate Dei,” with the Eagle of St. John. Next, St. Gregory, inspired by the Holy Spirit as a dove, and accompanied by the Bull of St. Luke. Then, St. Jerome, in his Cardinal’s hat, with the Angel of St. Matthew. Lastly, St. Ambrose with his scourge (alluding to his action in closing the doors of the church at Milan on the Emperor Theodosius after the massacre of Thessalonica), accompanied by the winged Lion of St. Mark. An interesting symbolical composition, deserving close study.

232. Luini. The daughter of Herodias with the head of St. John Baptist. A favourite subject with the artist, who often repeated it. Compare it with his other works in this gallery, till you feel you begin to understand Luini.

Above it, Borgognone. Presentation in the Temple. In the pallid colouring peculiar to this charming Lombard master. Observe the positions of the High Priest and other personages.

85. Borgognone. St. Peter Martyr introducing or commending a Lady Donor to the Madonna. One panel of a triptych; the rest of it is wanting. Look out for similar figures of saints introducing votaries. St. Peter Martyr has usually a wound or a knife in his head, to indicate the mode of his martyrdom.

Beneath, a quaint little Leonardesque Annunciation.

Solario. Calvary, characteristic of the School of Leonardo.

Beneath it, 394, *Solario. Madonna with the Green Cushion. His masterpiece, a graceful and tender work, exhibiting the growing taste of the Renaissance.

458. Attributed to Leonardo. The young St. John Baptist. Hair, smile and treatment characteristic; but possibly a copy. You will meet with many similar St. Johns in Florentine sculpture below hereafter.

465. School of Leonardo. Holy Family. St. Michael the Archangel oddly introduced in order to permit the Child Christ to play with the scales in which he weighs souls—a curious Renaissance conception, wholly out of keeping with earlier reverential feeling.

*460. Leonardo. “La Vierge aux Rochers.” A replica of the picture in the National Gallery in London. Much faded, but probably genuine. Examine closely the rocks, the Madonna, and the Angel.

395. Solario. Good portrait of Charles d’Amboise, a member of the great French family who will frequently crop up in connection with the Renaissance.

461. Attributed to Leonardo, more probably Bernardino de’ Conti. Portrait of a Lady. Compare with the Mona Lisa, as exhibiting well the real advance in portraiture made by Leonardo.

463. Attributed to Leonardo, but probably spurious; Bacchus, a fine youthful figure, begun as a St. John Baptist, and afterwards altered. Compare with the other St. John Baptist near it.

*Beltraffio. The Madonna of the Casio family. A characteristic Leonardesque virgin, attended by St. John Baptist and the bleeding St. Sebastian. (A votive picture.) By her side kneel two members of the Casio family, one the poet of that name, crowned with laurel. Intermediate Renaissance treatment of the Madonna and donors.

78 and 79. Good Franciscan saints, by Moretto.

Between them, 298. Charming Girolamo dai Libri.

We now come upon a magnificent series of works by Titian, in whom the Venetian School, ill-represented in its origin in the Salle des Primitifs, finds its culminating point.

**440. Titian. The Madonna with the Rabbit. This is one of a group of Titian’s Madonnas (several examples here) in which he endeavours to transform Bellini’s type (see the specimen in the Salle des Primitifs) into an ideal of the 16th century. The Madonna is here attended by St. Catherine of Alexandria, marked as a princess by her coronet and pearls. The child, bursting from her arms, plays with the rabbit. Once more a notion far-removed from primitive piety. Notice the background of Titian’s own country. Landscape is now beginning to struggle for recognition. Earlier art was all figures, first sacred, then also mythological.

445. Titian. The Crown of Thorns. A powerful but very painful painting. The artist is chiefly occupied with anatomy and the presentation of writhing emotion. The spiritual is lost in muscular action.

**443. Titian. The Disciples at Emmaus. Treated in the contemporary Venetian manner. This is again a subject whose variations can be well traced in this gallery.

451. Titian. Allegory of a husband who leaves for a campaign, commending his wife to Love and Chastity. Finely painted.

450. Titian. Portrait of François I^er. Famous as having been painted without a sitting—the artist had never even seen the king. He took the face from a medal.

448. Titian. Council of Trent. Very much to order.

Above it, *Titian. Jupiter and Antiope. Charming Giorgionesque treatment of the pastoral nude. Compare with the Giorgione in the Salon Carré, in order to understand how deeply that great painter influenced his contemporaries.

453. Titian. Fine portrait.

439. Titian. Madonna with St. Stephen, St. Ambrose, and St. Maurice the soldier. Observe the divergence from the older method of painting the accompanying saints. Originally grouped on either side the Madonna, they are here transformed into the natural group called in Italian, a “santa conversazione.” Look at the stages of this process in the Salle des Primitifs and this Long Gallery.

442. Titian. Another Holy Family. Interesting from the free mode of its treatment, in contrast with Bellini and earlier artists.

**455. Titian. Magnificent portrait.

Above these are several excellent Bassanos, worthy of study. Compare together all these Venetian works (Bonifazio etc.), lordly products of a great aristocratic mercantile community; and with them, the Veroneses of the Salon Carré, where the type attains a characteristic development.

Now return to the door by the Salon Carré and examine the R Wall.

Poor Pinturicchio, and two inferior Peruginos.

403. Lo Spagna. Nativity. Characteristic example of this scholar of Perugino and fellow-pupil of Raphael. Notice its Peruginesque treatment. Examine in detail and compare with the two other painters. As a Nativity, it is full of the conventional elements.

189. Raffaellino del Garbo. Coronation of the Virgin, beheld from below by four attendant saints of, or connected with, the Vallombrosan order—St. Benedict, Saint Salvi, San Giovanni Gualberto, and San Bernardo degli Uberti. These were the patrons of Vallombrosa; and the picture comes from the Church of St. Salvi, at Florence.

246. Manni. Baptism in Jordan. Observe, as usual, the attendant angels, though the simplicity of early treatment has wholly disappeared. The head-dresses are characteristic of the School of Perugino. Compare with Lo Spagna’s Nativity.

Above it (496) Florentine Madonna, with St. Augustine, St. John Baptist, St. Antony and St. Francis. Observe their symbols. I do not always now call attention to these; but the more you observe them, the better you will understand each picture as you come to it.

390. Luca Signorelli. Adoration of the Magi. A fine example of the mode of treatment of this excellent anatomical painter, the forerunner of Michael Angelo. It needs long looking into.

289. Piero di Cosimo. Coronation of the Virgin, with St. Jerome, St. Francis, St. Louis of Toulouse and St. Bonaventura. Compare with Raffaelino del Garbo, close by, for the double scene, on earth and in heaven. Notice the crown which Louis refused, in order to embrace the monastic profession. This is a Franciscan picture; you will find it casts much light on assemblages of saints if you know for what order each picture was painted. The grouping always means something.

16. Albertinelli. Madonna on a pedestal, with St. Jerome and St. Zenobius. Scenes from their legends in the background. A characteristic example of the Florentine Renaissance. The grouping is in the style then fast becoming fashionable. Compare with Lorenzo di Credi in the Salle des Primitifs.

144. Pontormo. Visitation. Showing the older Renaissance tendencies. Compare with the Ghirlandajo, and note persistence of the arch in the background.

*57. Fra Bartolommeo. Marriage of St. Catherine of Siena. This is a variant on the legend of the other St. Catherine—of Alexandria. The infant Christ is placing a ring on the holy nun’s finger. Around are attendant saints—Peter, Vincent, Stephen, etc. The composition is highly characteristic of the painter and his school.

380. Andrea del Sarto. Holy Family. Exquisitely soft in outline and colour.

372. Doubtful. Attributed to Raphael. Charming portrait of a young man.

Beyond it,* two most delicate little pictures of St. George (a man) and St. Michael (an angel, winged) of Raphael’s very early period. Note the princess in the St. George; you will come upon her again. Simple and charming. Trace Raphael’s progress in this gallery, by means of Kugler.

Beyond them, again, two portraits by Raphael, of which 373 is of doubtful authenticity.

*366. Raphael. The Young St. John: a noble figure.

**367. Raphael. St. Margaret: issuing triumphant from the dragon which has swallowed her. A figure full of feeling and movement, and instinct with his later science. It was painted for François I^er, out of compliment to his sister, Queen Margaret of Navarre.

All these Raphaels should be carefully studied. The great painter began with a certain Peruginesque stiffness, through which nevertheless his own native grace makes itself felt at once; he progressed rapidly in knowledge and skill at Florence and Rome, but showed a tendency in his last works towards the incipient faults of the later Renaissance. By following him here, in conjunction with Florence and Rome, you can gain an idea of the course of his development.

The Second Compartment of the Long Gallery, which we now enter, though containing several works by Titian and other masters of the best period, is mainly devoted to painters of the later 16th and 17th century, when the decline in taste was rapid and progressive. Notice throughout the substitution of rhetorical gesture and affected composition for the simplicity of the early masters, or the dignity and truth of the High Renaissance. Begin again on the L wall, containing finer pictures than that opposite.

441. Titian. Another Holy Family, with St. Catherine. Both women here are Venetian ladies of high rank and of his own period. Observe, however, the persistence of the Madonna’s white head-covering. Also, the playfulness introduced in the treatment of St. Catherine’s palm of martyrdom, and the childish St. John with his lamb. These attributes would have been treated by earlier painters with reverence and solemnity. Titian transfers them into mere pretty accessories. Characteristic landscape background. (The female saint in this work is usually described as St. Agnes, because of the lamb: I think erroneously. The lamb is St. John’s, and the St. Catherine merely plays with it.)

88. Calcar. Fine portrait of a young man.

38. Attributed (very doubtfully) to Giorgione. Holy Family, with St. Sebastian, St. Catherine, and the donor, kneeling. A good example of the intermediate treatment of saints in groups of this character.

Above it (92) Paolo Veronese. Esther and Ahasuerus. Treated in the lordly fashion of a Venetian pageant. Try now to understand this Venetian ideal in style and colour.

91. Paolo Veronese. Similar treatment of Susanna and the Elders, a traditional religious theme, here distorted into a mere excuse for the nude, in which the Renaissance delighted.

**274. Palma Vecchio. Adoration of the Shepherds. A noble example of this great Venetian painter. Observe how he transforms the traditional accessories in the background, and employs them in the thorough Venetian spirit.

Beyond it, several small Venetian pictures. Self-explanatory, but worthy of close attention; especially 94, a delicate Paolo Veronese, on a most unusual scale—a Venetian Dominican nun presented by her patroness, St. Catherine, and St. Joseph to the Madonna. Also, 93, by the same artist, St. George and St. Catherine presenting a Venetian gentleman to the Madonna and Child. These two saints were the male and female patrons of the Venetian territory; hence their frequency in Venetian pictures.

99. The Disciples at Emmaus. Another characteristic transformation by Veronese of a traditional scene. The pretence of sacredness is very thin.

98. Paolo Veronese. Calvary. Similarly treated.

*335. Tintoretto. Susanna at the Bath. Admirable example of this artist’s bold and effective method. In him the Venetian School attains its last possible point before the decadence.

Beneath it, two good Venetian portraits.

336. Tintoretto. A characteristic Paradise (sketch for the great picture in the Doge’s Palace at Venice), whose various circles of saints and angels should be carefully studied. Gloomy glory.

Above it, 17. A Venetian gentleman introduced to the Madonna by St. Francis and a sainted bishop, with St. Sebastian in the background. Doubtless, a votive picture in gratitude for the noble donor’s escape from the plague.

Beyond these, we come chiefly upon Venetian pictures of the Decadence, among which the most noticeable are the Venetian views by Canaletto and Guardi, showing familiar aspects of the Salute, the Doge’s Palace, San Zaccaria, and other buildings.

Further on, this compartment contains Spanish pictures,—an artificial arrangement not without some real justification, since in the 16th and 17th centuries, Spain, enriched by her American possessions, became, for a short period, the material and artistic inheritor of Italy, and accepted in full the mature fruits of the Italian Renaissance. At the same time, she imbued the developed arts she received from Italy with Spanish showiness and love of mere display, to the exclusion of deeper spiritual feeling. The most famous among the few Spanish pictures of the Louvre are:—

552. **Velasquez. Philip IV of Spain.

Beneath it, *Murillo. One of his favourite Boy Beggars, killing fleas. A curious subject, excellently rendered.

548. Ribera. Adoration of the Shepherds.

540. Murillo. Birth of the Virgin, where the transformation of the traditional element is even more marked than in the Italian Renaissance. The colouring splendid. St. Anne is always seen in bed; other points you could notice in the enamels at Cluny. With Murillo, they become mere excuses for display of art-faculty.

Further on, Murillo. The occupants of a poor monastery in Spain miraculously fed by angels, known as “La Cuisine des Anges.”

I do not recommend more than a cursory examination of these fine Spanish works, which can only be properly understood by those who have visited Madrid and Seville. It will suffice to note their general characteristics, and the way in which they render traditional subjects. The best point of view for the “Cuisine des Anges,” is obtained from the seat nearly opposite, beneath the archway, when the splendid luminous qualities of this theatrical picture can be better appreciated. From this point also, many of the other Spanish pictures are well seen with an opera-glass. They are not intended for close examination.

(The columns which separate these compartments have an interesting history. They first belonged to a classical temple in North Africa. They were brought thence by Louis XIV to support a baldacchino at St. Germain-des-Prés. Finally, the Revolution transferred them to the Louvre.)

Return again, now, to the last archway, and begin once more on the R side, which contains for the most part tawdry works of the Baroque period, which should, however, be studied to some extent in illustration of the decadence of art in the later 16th century, and also as examples of further transformation of the traditional motives.

53. Barocci. Madonna in Glory, with St. Antony and St. Lucy. A good example of the insipid style which took its name from this master.

Below it, 309. Bagnacavallo. Circumcision, with twisted pillars, showing the decline in architectural taste. The crowded composition may be instructively compared with earlier and simpler examples of this subject; also, with Fra Bartolommeo, whose fine but complex arrangements rapidly resulted in such confused grouping.

52. Barocci. Same scene. The tradition now entirely ignored, and an unpleasantly realistic, yet theatrical and mannered treatment, introduced.

304. After Primaticcio. Mythological concert, exhibiting the taste of the School of Fontainebleau (the Italian artists of Raphael’s group, scholars of Giulio Romano, introduced into France by François I^er).

349. Rosselli. Triumphant David, with the head of Goliath. Marking the advance of the histrionic tendency.

A very cursory examination of the rest of the works on this wall will probably be sufficient. Look them over in an hour. The most celebrated are two by Salvator Rosa: 318, Guido Reni’s Ecce Homo, full of tawdry false sentiment; and Domenichino’s St. Cecilia (often copied), with the angel reduced to the futile decorative winged boy of the period. 324, Guido’s St. Sebastian, may be well compared with Perugino’s, as marking the decline which art had suffered. It is on works like these that the Spanish School largely based itself.

This completes the Italian collection of the Louvre, to which the visitor should return again and again, until he feels he has entered somewhat into the spirit and tone of its various ages.

Between the next two archways, we come to a small collection of works of the Early French School, too few of which unfortunately remain to us.

Left Wall. Two portraits of François I^er, may be well compared with the Titian of the same king, as indicating the gulf which still separated France from the art-world of Italy. The hard, dry, wooden manner of these French works is strongly contrasted with the finished art of the Italian Renaissance. Recollect that these seemingly archaic portraits are painted by contemporaries of Raphael and Titian.

Between them, good miniatures, by Nicolas Froment, of King René and his Queen.

Above, 650. Admirable Dead Christ, with the Madonna, Magdalen, Joseph of Arimathea, etc. In the best style of the French School of the 15th century. Observe the action of the various personages: all are conventional.

Beyond it, several good small pictures of the early French Renaissance which should be carefully examined. Fouquet’s portrait of Charles VII is a capital example of the older method.

Above them, 875, characteristic 15th century Crucifixion, with Last Communion and Martyrdom of St. Denis. The executioner’s face is French all over. (Scenes from the Passion have often in French art such side-scenes from lives of saints. Several at Cluny.) This picture has been employed as a basis for the restoration of the reliefs in the portals at St. Denis.

Beyond again, portraits of the early Renaissance, exhibiting considerable advance in many cases.

On the R wall are some works more distinctly characteristic of the school of art which grew up round Primaticcio and his scholars at Fontainebleau. Among them are a Diana hunting (D. de Poitiers again), and a Continence of Scipio. They reflect the style of Giulio Romano. Beneath the first, two good portraits, with patron saints (John and Peter). All the works in this compartment should be examined carefully, as showing the raw material upon which subsequent French art was developed.

Beyond the next archway, we come to the pictures of the Flemish School, which deserve almost equal attention with the Italian, as individual works, but which, as of less interest in the general history of art, I shall treat more briefly. Begin here on the R side, for chronological order.

Among the most noticeable pictures are Adam and Eve, unnumbered, good specimens of the frank, unidealised northern nude.

595. An exquisite early Annunciation, the spirit of which should be compared with the early Italians. Notice the general similarity of accessories, combined with the divergence in spirit, the dwelling on detail, the Flemish love for effects of light and shade on brass-work, fabrics, glasses, etc. Notice that this charming picture gives us the early stage in the evolution of that type of art which culminates in the Gerard Dou in the Salon Carré.

Beside it, an exquisitely tender Dead Christ. Remarkable for the finish in the background.

The Quentin Matsys is not a worthy representative of the master.

Beside it, a quaint and striking group of Votaries, listening to a sermon. Probably a mere excuse for portrait-painting. The character in the faces is essentially Flemish.

Fine portrait of a young man with a pink, in a red cap.

Triptych, with the Madonna and Child (who may be well compared with those of the Memling in the Salle Duchâtel). On the flaps, the donor and his wife, introduced by their patrons, St. John and St. Christopher.

Now cross over to the L side.

*698. Rogier Van der Weyden. Excellent Deposition, with a touching St. John, and a very emaciated Dead Christ. These scenes of death are extremely common in Flemish and German art, and resulted in a great effort to express poignant emotion, as contrasted with the calmer ecstatic character of Italian art.

**279. Quentin Matsys. Banker and his wife. An admirable and celebrated picture, with marvellous detail, of which there are variants elsewhere. Notice the crystal vase, mirror, leaves of book, and objects on shelves in background. The fur is exquisitely painted.

*288 and 289. Two beautiful little Memlings.

588. Most characteristic and finished Holy Family.

699. Memling. St. Sebastian, Resurrection, Ascension. Compare the first with Italian examples. Notice the extraordinarily minute work in the armour and accessories, contrasted with the blank and meaningless face of the Risen Saviour. Flemish art, perfect in execution, seldom attains high ideals.

277 and 278. Mabuse. Virgin and donor. Excellent.

**596. Gerard David. Marriage at Cana. A splendid specimen of this great and insufficiently recognised painter. Background of buildings at Bruges. Every face and every portion of the decorative work, including the jars in the foreground, should be closely noticed. The kneeling donor is an admirable portrait. As a whole, what a contrast to the Paolo Veronese! The pretty, innocent face of the bride, with her air of mute wonder, is excellently rendered. I believe the donor in this work is a younger portrait of the Canon who appears in the glorious Gerard David in the National Gallery.

Skied above all these pictures on either side are several works by Van Veen, Jan Matsys, Snyders and others, mostly worthy of notice. Among them, 136, Van Dyck, good Madonna with the Magdalen and other saints.

We now come to the **great series by Rubens narrating the History of Marie de Médicis, in the inflated allegorical style of the period. To understand them, the spectator should first read an account of her life in any good French history. These great decorative canvasses were painted hurriedly, with even more than Rubens’s usual dash and freedom, to Marie’s order, after her return from exile, for the decoration of her rooms at the Luxembourg (see Part V) which she had just erected. Though designed by Rubens, they were largely executed by the hands of pupils; and while possessing all the master’s exuberant artistic qualities in composition, they are not favourable specimens of his art, as regards execution and technique. It is to be regretted that most Englishmen and Frenchmen form their impressions of the painter from these vigorous but rapid pictures, rather than from his far nobler works at Antwerp, Munich, and Vienna. I give briefly the meaning of the series.

1. The Three Fates spin Marie’s destiny. A small panel for the side of a door.

2. Birth of Marie at Florence. Lucina, goddess of birth, with her torch, attends the mother. Genii scatter flowers; others hold her future crown. In the foreground, the River God of the Arno, with his stream issuing from an urn, and accompanied by the Florentine lion, as well as by boys holding the Florentine lily. This curious mixture of allegorical personages and realities is continued throughout the series.

3. Her Education, presided over by Minerva, with the aid of Mercury (to indicate her rapidity in learning), and Apollo, as teacher of the arts. Close by are the Graces, admirable nude figures. Among the accessories, bust of Socrates, painting materials, etc.

4. The Genius of France in attendance upon Henri IV, while Love shows him Marie’s portrait. The attitude of the king expresses delight and astonishment. In the clouds, Jupiter and Juno smile compliance. Below, little Loves steal the king’s shield and helmet.

5. Marriage of Marie by proxy. The Grand Duke Ferdinand represents the king. Hymen holds the torch.

6. Marie lands at Marseilles, and is received by France, while Tritons and Nereids give easy passage to her vessel. Above, her Fame. On the vessel, the balls or palli of the Medici family.

7. Consummation of the Marriage at Lyons. The town itself is seen in the background. In the foreground, the (personified) city, crowned with a mural coronet, and designated by her lions. Above, the King, as Jupiter, with his eagle, and the Queen, as Juno, with her peacocks.

8. Birth of her son, afterwards Louis XIII, at Fontainebleau. Health receives the infant. Fortune attends the Queen.

9. The King, setting out to his war against Germany, makes Marie Regent—allegorically represented by passing her the ball of empire—and confides to her their son.

Larger pictures: No. 10, the Coronation of the Queen, and No. 11, the Apotheosis of Henri, the painful scene of his death being avoided. He is represented as raised to the sky by Jupiter on one side, and Death with his sickle on the other. Beneath, the assassin, as a serpent, wounded with an arrow. Victory and Bellona mourning. Beyond, the allegorical figure of France presenting the regency to Marie, with the acclamation of the nobility and people.

12. The Queen’s government approved of by Jupiter, Juno, and the heavenly powers. In the foreground Apollo, Mars, and Minerva (the first copied from the antique statue known as the Belvedere), representing courage, art, and literature, dispel calumny and the powers of darkness.

Continue on the opposite side, crossing over directly.

13. Civil discord arises. Marie starts for Anjou, attended by Victory. Military preparations in the background.

14. The exchange of Princesses between allegorical figures of France and Austria—each intended to marry the heir of the other empire.

15. The Happiness of the Regency. The Queen bears the scales of justice. Plenty prevails. Literature, science, art, and beauty predominate over evil, slander, and baseness.

16. Louis XIII attains his Majority (at 14) and mans the ship of State in person, still attended by the counsels of his mother. The Virtues row it.

17. Calumny overcomes the Queen. By the advice of her counsellors, she takes refuge at Blois, escorted by Wisdom.

18. Mercury, as messenger, brings an olive branch to Marie, as a token of reconciliation from her son, through the intermediation of Richelieu and the Church party.

19. Marie enters the Temple of Peace, escorted by Mercury and Truth with her torch, while blind Rage and the evil powers stand baffled behind her.

20. Apotheosis of Marie and Louis: their reconciliation and happiness. Final overthrow of the demons of discord.

21. Time brings Truth to light. Louis recognises the good influence of his mother.

The history, as given in these pictures, is of course envisaged from the point of view of a courtier, who desires to flatter and please his patroness.

Beneath this great series of Rubens are a number of Dutch and Flemish Pictures, mostly admirable and well worthy of attention, but, so to speak, self-explanatory. They belong entirely to modern feeling. Dutch and Flemish art, in its later form, is the domestic development of that intense love of minute detail and accessories already conspicuous in Van Eyck, Memling, and Gerard David. Sacred subjects almost disappear; the wealthy burghers ask for portraits of themselves, their wives and families, or landscapes for their households. I would call special notice to the following among many which should be closely examined to show the progress of art:—512, Teniers; 691, Rubens; 518, Teniers; 238 and 239, Van Huysum; *425, a charming Rubens, in his smaller and more delicate style; 147, admirable portrait by Van Dyck; 513, an excellent Teniers; *461, a good portrait by Rubens; 125, exquisite, luminous Gerard Dou; next it **Van der Helst’s Four Judges of the Guild of Cross-bow-men deciding on the prizes, one of the most perfect specimens of this great portrait painter. Notice the wonderful life-like expressions. Then 123, another exquisite luminous Dou; 542, Van de Velde; 41, splendid portrait by Bol; 130, Gerard Dou by himself; **404, Rembrandt, Raphael leaving the house of Tobias, a master-piece of the artist’s weird and murky luminosity—strangely contrasted with Italian examples; 205, a good Hobbema; 133, fine portrait by Duchâtel; 369, excellent family group by Van Ostade; next it, 126, a delicious little Dou. But, indeed, every one of these Dutch paintings should be examined separately, in order to understand the characteristic Dutch virtues of delicate handling, exquisite detail, and domestic portraiture. They are the artistic outcome of a nation of housewives.

On the opposite side the series is continued with admirable flower-pieces, landscapes by Van der Veldt and Karel du Jardin, and several noteworthy portraits, among which notice the famous *Van Dyck (143) of the children of Charles I., most daintily treated. Beyond the Rubenses, again, on this side, 144, two noble portraits by Van Dyck, and several excellent examples of Philippe de Champaigne, a Flemish artist who deeply influenced painting in France, where he settled. **151, Van Dyck’s Duke of Richmond, perhaps his most splendid achievement in portraiture, deserves careful study. I do not further enlarge upon these subjects because the names and dates of the painters, with the descriptions given on the frames, will sufficiently enable the judicious spectator to form his own conceptions. Devote at least a day to Dutch and Flemish art here, and then go back to the Salon Carré, to see how the Rembrandts, Dous, and Metsus, there unfortunately separated from their compeers, fall into the general scheme of Dutch development.

Good view out of either window as you pass the next archway. Look out for these views in all parts of the Louvre. They often give you glimpses of the minor courtyards, to which the general public are not admitted.

The next two compartments contain further Dutch and Flemish pictures of high merit—portraits, still-life, landscape, and other subjects. The scenes of village life are highly characteristic. Notice in this connection the growing taste for landscape, at first with a pretence of figures and animals, but gradually asserting its right to be heard on its own account. In Italy, under somewhat similar commercial conditions, we saw this taste arise in the Venetian School, with Cima, Giorgione, and Titian; in Holland, after the Reformation put sacred art at a discount, it became almost supreme. And note at the same time how the Reformation in commercial countries has wholly altered the type of northern art, focussing it on trivial domestic incidents.

Among the many beautiful pictures in these compartments the spectator should at least not miss, on the L, the very charming **Portrait by Rubens (not quite finished) of his second wife and two children, scarcely inferior to the lovely specimen at Munich. Near it, an admirable Crucifixion with the Madonna, St. John, and Magdalen, more reminiscent than is usual with Rubens of earlier compositions. On the R side, notice a portrait of Elizabeth of France (459), by Rubens, in his other, stiffer, and more courtly manner. We may well put down this peculiarity to the wishes of the sitter. His *Kermesse, near it, is an essay in the style afterwards popularized by Teniers, in which the great artist permits his Flemish blood to overcome him, and produces a clever but most unpleasant picture. The numerous admirable fruit and flower pieces, works in still-life, etc., which these compartments contain, must be studied for himself by the attentive visitor. In Rubens’ great canvas of the Triumph of Religion, painted for a Spanish commission, observe his curious external imitation of Spanish tendencies.

After having completed his examination of the Long Gallery, the visitor may next proceed to the five small rooms—IX, X, XI, XII, and XIII on Baedeker’s map—devoted to

The German, English and Early French Schools.

Among the early German works in the 2nd of these rooms, the visitor may particularly notice (*22), Hans Holbein’s portrait of Southwell, full of character. Above it, a quaint Venus by Cranach, instinct with the northern conception of the crude nude. Next, two good portraits by Holbein. In the centre of this wall, *a Descent from the Cross, of the School of Cologne, which should be compared with similar pictures of the Italian and Flemish Schools. The somewhat exaggerated expression of grief on all the faces is strongly characteristic of German tendencies. The figure of the Magdalen, to the R, strikes the German keynote; so does Joseph of Arimathea receiving the Crown of Thorns. Study this well, for coincidences with and differences from Italian treatment. Beyond it, two fine Holbeins, of the astronomer Kratzer, and *Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury, the latter a marvellous piece of painting. The opposite wall also contains good portraits and sacred pieces, among which an altar-piece by the “Master of the Death of the Virgin,” deserves careful study. (Most early German masters are unknown to us by name, and are thus identified by their most famous pictures.) The Last Supper in this work, below, is largely borrowed from Leonardo. Compare with the copy of Leonardo’s fresco at Milan in the Long Gallery, probably by Marco da Oggionno, which hangs near the Vierge aux Rochers. The Adoration of the Magi (597), should also be compared with the Italian examples; notice in particular the burgher character of the Three Kings, which is essentially German. The other works in this room can be sufficiently studied (for casual observers) by the aid of the labels.

The English Room contains a few examples of English masters of the last and present century, none of them first-rate. The most famous is the frequently reproduced Little Girl with Cherries by the pastellist John Russel. It is a pleasing work, but not good in colour.

The next room, with an admirable view from the window, begins the Modern French School (in the wide sense), and contains Le Sueur’s History of the Life of St. Bruno, painted for a Carthusian monastery near the Luxembourg—of which order the saint was the founder. They are characteristic examples of the French work of the early 17th century, and they exhibit the beginnings of the national tendencies in art. The legends are partially explained on the frames, and more fully in Mrs. Jameson’s “Monastic Orders.” On a cursory inspection, the observer will notice the marked French tendency in the 9th, 7th, 21st, and 22nd of the series. Cold and lifeless in design and colour, these feeble works have now little more than a historical interest.

Before proceeding to the succeeding rooms of the

French School,

you had better form some conception of the circumstances and conditions under which that school arose. The artists whom François I^er invited to Fontainebleau had little influence on French art, except in sculpture (where we shall see their spirit abundantly at work when we come to examine the Renaissance sculpture in this collection). Primaticcio and his followers, however, left behind them in France, as regards painting, scarcely more than the sense of a need for improvement. Succeeding French artists took up the Italian Renaissance in the stage represented by the later decadents and the eclectic Caracci. Nicolas Poussin (1594–1665) is the first Frenchman to attain distinction in this line; he throws something of French sentimentality into the affected mythological scenes of contemporary Italy. Claude of Lorraine, again, is almost an Italian by training and style; his artificial landscapes, not copied direct from nature, but built up by arbitrary and often impossible conjunctions, represent the prevailing tendencies of Italian art in the 17th century. On the other hand, the influence of Rubens, many of whose greatest works were painted for French kings, or came early to France, and still more of Philippe de Champaigne, a Brussels master who settled in Paris and painted much for Richelieu and Marie de Médicis, introduced into France a strain of Flemish influence. On these two schools—decadent Italian and later Flemish—then, modern French art at first based itself; the final outcome is a resultant of the two, transmuted and moulded in spirit and form by the innate, though at first unrealised, French tendencies.

Also, before you proceed to examine the subsequent specimens of the development of French art, you had better return to the Salon Carré to inspect the portraits by Philippe de Champaigne, as well as the Jouvenet, the Rigaud, and other French works there, which I purposely passed by on our previous visit, as out of harmony with the Italian masterpieces. On your way back, glance at the later Italian pictures in the First Compartment of the Long Gallery (particularly at Bronzino’s odiously vulgar Christ and Mary Magdalen, and Rossi’s Doubting Thomas, both skied, on your R) as conspicuous examples of the sort of thing admired at the time when the French School took its first flights and made its earliest experiences. Then observe once more the works of the School of Fontainebleau; and, finally, inspect the pictures in Baedeker’s Room IX; after which, you will be in a position to start fair in Room XIII, with the French School in the 17th century.

This Small Room beyond the St. Brunos contains more favourable specimens of Le Sueur’s faculty (such as 559, 556, and 551), in which a distinctive French tendency still more markedly announces itself. The Ganymede, in 563, in particular, faintly foreshadows at a distance the classic painters of the Empire. We see in this room, in a very vague way, an early stage in the evolution of a David.

Passing through the Landing, at the head of the staircase (with interesting terra-cotta Etruscan sarcophagi) we arrive at the Great Gallery of French paintings of the 17th century. These may be examined somewhat in the mass, exhibiting, as they do, rather the courtly tendencies of the age of Louis XIV than any great individual artistic faculty. We must understand them in the spirit which built Versailles and conducted the wars on the north-eastern frontier. They are painted for the most part by the command of His Majesty. Only here and there does a faintly individual work, like Le Sueur’s Christ and the Magdalen, and Bearing of the Cross, or Lebrun’s Crucifixion, arrest for a moment one’s passing attention. The crudeness of the colour, and the insufficiency of the composition, will be the chief points, in a general survey, to strike the spectator. (On a screen in the centre, out of proper place among its contemporaries, hangs at present Paul Delaroche’s famous Christian Martyr.)

The student who has courage to attack this mass of uninteresting art in detail, should observe particularly the works of N. Poussin, as forming the point of departure for the School in general. His Bacchanal and other mythological works set the fashion of those dreary allegorical scenes which cover so many yards of ceilings in the Louvre. Observe the mixture of religious themes, like Lebrun’s Martyrdom of Stephen, and N. Poussin’s Holy Family, with classical pictures like the Rescue of Pyrrhus, and the Alexander and Porus, as well as the close similarity of treatment in both cases. Among the best of the lot are Jouvenet’s Raising of Lazarus, and Lesueur’s Paul Preaching at Ephesus (partly after Raphael). *Poussin’s “Et in Arcadia ego,” a rustic morality, is also famous, and is regarded as the greatest achievement of this artificial School. Claude’s landscapes, often with a small inserted mythological story by another painter, deserve attention. (Note that landscape has hardly yet vindicated its claim to independent existence.) On the whole, it may be said that this room represents the two prevailing influences in French art of the purely monarchical period of Louis XIV,—either the pictures are quasi-royal and official, or else they are religious, for church or monastery. The mythological scenes, indeed, have often a royal reference—are supposed parallels of contemporary events; and even the religious scenes, wholly destitute of spiritual feeling, are painted in a courtly, grandiose manner. They are saints as conceived by flunkeys. Not till the Revolution swept away the royal patron did the French spirit truly realise itself. This room reveals the Court, not the nation.

The next room, in the Pavillon Denon, a connecting passage, contains Portraits of Painters, chiefly by themselves, a few of which are worthy of attention. Among them is the famous and touching **portrait by Mme. Lebrun of herself and her daughter, which, in spite of some theatrical sentiment here and there obtruded, is a charming realisation of maternal feeling amply reciprocated.

Beyond it we come to the French Gallery of the 18th century, reflecting for the most part the spirit of the Regency and the Louis XV period. Much of it is meretricious; much of it breathes the atmosphere of the boudoir. The flavour of Du Barry pervades it almost all. It scents of musk and powder. The reader will pick out for himself such works as he admires in this curious yet not wholly unpleasing mass of affectation and mediocrity. Indeed, as opposed to the purely official work in the preceding French room, the growth of the rococo spirit, to be traced in this gallery, is by no means without interest. The one set of works sets forth the ideal of monarchy as a formal institution; the other displays its actual outcome in royal mistresses and frivolous amusements. Here too the ornate French taste—the Dresden china and Sèvres taste—finds its first faint embodiment. Greuze’s famous *Cruche Cassée (263), is the chief favourite with visitors to this room. It has about it a certain false simplicity, a pretended virginal innocence, which is perhaps the highest point of art this school could attain. Drouais’s child portraits (187), are more entirely characteristic, in their red-and-white chubbiness, of the ideas of the epoch. The pastoral scenes by Watteau and Vanloo, represent nature and country life, as they envisaged themselves to the painted and powdered great ladies of the Trianon. Coypel’s Esther before Ahasuerus is a not unfavourable specimen of the inflated quasi-sacred style of the period. Some good portraits redeem the general high level of mediocrity in this room, but do not equal those of the daintily aristocratic English School of the end of the 18th century. Two Greuzes (267 and, still more, 266), reveal the essentially artificial methods of this superficially taking painter. Most observers begin by admiring him and end by disliking his ceaseless posing. Boucher’s artificial pink-and-white nudities (as in 24 and 26), have the air of a man who painted, as he did, in a room hung round with rose-coloured satin. He is perhaps the most typical of these rococo artists: he imitates on canvas the coquettish ideals of the contemporary china-painters. Fragonard, again, throws into this school the love of display and bravado of a southern temperament. At the far end of the room we find in Greuze’s later moralising pictures faint indications of the altered and somewhat more earnest feeling which produced the revolutionary epoch, still closely mixed up with the ineradicable affectation and unreality of the painter and his period. Two little stories of a Prodigal Son and his too late return, on either side of the doorway, with their violent theatrical passion and their excessive expression of impossible emotion, illustrate well this nascent tendency. They are attempts to feel where feeling was not really present. David’s Paris and Helen introduces us, on the other hand, to the beginnings of the cold classicism which prevailed under the Empire.

In order to continue the chronological examination of the French School the visitor must now return to the Salon Carré and traverse the vulgarly ornate Galerie d’Apollon by its side (which contains objects of more or less artistic interest in the precious metals and precious stones, many of which, especially those in the two last cases, deserve careful inspection. A morning should, if possible, be devoted later to this collection).

A short connecting room beyond (with gold Etruscan jewelery) gives access next to the Salle des Sept Cheminées, which contains many stiff but excellent works of the period of the Empire. The most noticeable of these are by David, whose formal classicism (a result of the revolutionary revolt from Christianity, with its reliance upon Greek, and still more Roman, morality and history) is excellently exemplified in his large picture of the *Sabine Women Intervening between their Husbands and their Fathers. This is considered his masterpiece. Its frigid style, not very distantly resembling that of a bas-relief, and its declamatory feeling do not blind us to the excellence of its general technique and its real advance on the art of the 18th century. David imitated the antique, but was always sculpturesque rather than pictorial in treatment. Among other fine examples of this classic period—the transitional stage between the 18th century and the distinctively modern spirit—attention may be called to Gérard’s Cupid and Psyché, and to his fine portrait of the Marquis Visconti. *Mme. Lebrun’s charmingly animated portrait of Mme. Molé-Raymond, the comedian, is full of real vigour. Two good portraits by David, of himself and Pius VII, deserve close inspection. Gros’s Bonaparte at Arcola, is also interesting. Mme. Lebrun’s earlier portrait of herself and her daughter is less beautiful than the one we have already examined. Several military portraits, such as Gros’s Fournier-Sarlovèze, reflect the predominant militarism of the epoch. David’s huge canvas of the Coronation of Napoleon I in Notre-Dame is typical of another side of the great artist’s development. Gradually, the frigidity of the early revolutionary period gave way to the growing romanticism of 1830. Géricault’s Raft of the Medusa (sighting a sail after twelve days out), strikes the first keynote of the modern romantic movement. It created a great sensation in its own day, and gave rise to endless discussion and animadversion. It marks the advent of the emotional in modern art. Gros’s Bonaparte Visiting the Plague-stricken at Jaffa, also indicates in another way a marked modernising tendency. The school of blood and wounds, of the morbid and the ghastly, has here its forerunner. All the works in this room (which modernity forbids me to treat at adequate length) should be carefully studied in detail and comparison by those who wish to understand the various steps which led to the evolution of modern French painting. Guérin’s Return of Marcus Sextus, and Girodet’s Burial of Atala, in particular, mark special phases of transition from the coldly classical to the romantic tendency. This room, in one word, begins with the severe; it ends with the melodramatic.

The room beyond, known as the Salle Henri II, is so nearly modern in tone that the reader may be safely trusted to inspect it on his own knowledge. Giraud’s Slave-dealer and Chassériau’s Tepidarium are its most popular pictures. It lies outside the scope of the present handbook.

The Salle La Caze, however, still beyond, contains a collection kept separately apart by the express desire of the donor, and includes many works both of earlier schools and of the French 17th and 18th century, worthy of the greatest attention. It is especially rich in works of the rococo painters, better exemplified here than in the main collection. Beginning on the L, I will merely enumerate a few of the most important works. An excellent Hondekoeter, skied. A noble portrait by Tintoretto of a Venetian magnate. A most characteristic Fragonard, full of the morganatic sentiment of the 18th century. Portraits by Nattier, affording more pleasing examples of the early 18th century style than those we have hitherto examined. Above it, a mediocre Tintoretto of Susanna at the Bath, not good in colour. Centre of the hall, *Watteau’s Gilles, an excellent embodiment of the innocent fool of traditional French comedy. *Frans Hals’s sly figure of a Gipsy Woman is a fine piece of vulgar character-painting. A good Greuze, etc. Examine more particularly the works by Watteau, Fragonard, and other boudoir painters, whose pictures on this wall give a more pleasing and fuller idea of the temperament of their school than that which we obtained in other parts of the collection. R wall returning—several good Watteaus, Bouchers, Greuzes, etc. Excellent small Dutch pictures. Fine portrait by Rembrandt. Rembrandt’s Woman at the Bath is a characteristic example of his strikingly original conception of the nude. Ribera’s Club-footed Boy is a Spanish pendant to Frans Hals’s Gipsy. This room, containing as it does very mixed examples of all the schools, should only be visited after the spectator has obtained some idea of each in other parts of the collection. Its Dutch works, in particular, are admirable. I do not enumerate them, as enumeration is useless, but leave it to the reader to pick out for himself several fine examples.

Now traverse the Galerie d’Apollon, Salon Carré, and Long Gallery till you arrive at the

Hall of Painters of the 19th Century,

(Room VIII in Baedeker’s plan). This hall contains for the most part the works of artists of the period of Louis Philippe and the early Second Empire—almost our own contemporaries. I will therefore only briefly call attention here to the pictures of the romantic historical school, then so prevalent in France, of which Delaroche’s Death of Queen Elizabeth and Princes in the Tower and Delacroix’s Capture of Constantinople by the Crusaders are conspicuous examples. Devéria’s popular Birth of Henri IV belongs to the same category. These “picturesque” treatments of history answer in painting to the malign influence of Walter Scott and Victor Hugo in literature. Contrasted with them are such semi-classical works of the school of David, softened and modernised, as Ingres’s Apotheosis of Homer—the great poet crowned by Fame, with the Iliad and Odyssey at the base of his pedestal, and surrounded by a concourse of ancient and modern singers. It is cold but dignified. Lethière’s Death of Virginia, and Couture’s Romans of the Decadence, represent to a certain extent a blending of these two main influences. I will not, however, particularise, as almost every picture in this room deserves some study from the point of view of the evolution of contemporary art. I will merely ask the reader not to overlook Flandrin’s famous nude figure, the typical landscapes by Rousseau and Millet, and David’s exquisite portrait of Mme. Récamier—sufficient in itself to immortalise both artist and sitter. The electric influence of a beautiful and pure-souled woman has here galvanised David for once into full perception and reproduction of truth and nature. Even the severe Empire furniture and background exactly accord with the character of the picture. Ary Scheffer’s religious works, in his peculiar twilight style, on a solid blue background, will strike every observer. Millet’s Gleaners and Troyon’s group of oxen strike each a new note in art at the period when they were painted. As a whole this Gallery represents all the various strands of feeling which have gone to the production of modern painting. It attains to the threshold of cosmopolitanism in its Arabs, its negroes, and its Algerian women: it is bloodthirsty and sensuous; it is calm and meditative; it dashes with Courbet; it refines with Millet; it oscillates between the world, the flesh, and the devil; it is pious and meretricious; it sums up in itself the endless contradictory and interlacing tendencies of the Nineteenth Century. As regards chronological sequence, one may say pretty fairly that it begins with classicism, passes through romanticism, and ends for the moment in religious reaction.

Come back often to the pictures in the Louvre, especially the Salle des Primitifs, the Salon Carré, and the first two bays of the Long Gallery.

Further Hints on the Paintings in the Louvre.

The reader must not suppose that these brief notes give anything like an adequate idea of the way in which pictures in such a gallery as the Louvre ought to be studied. My object in these Guides being mainly to open a door, that the tourist himself may enter and look about him carefully, I have given first this connected account of all the rooms in chronological order, for the use of those whose time is very limited, and who desire to go through the collection seriatim. But for the benefit of others who can afford to pay many successive visits, I will now take one or two particular pictures in detail, suggesting what seem to me the best and most fruitful ways in which to study them. Try for yourself afterwards to fill in a similar scheme, as far as you can, for most of the finest works in this Gallery.

I will begin with No. 251, in the Salle des Primitifs—Mantegna’s beautiful and glowing Madonna della Vittoria. And I take Mantegna first, because (among other reasons) he is a painter who can be fairly well studied by means of the pictures in this Gallery alone, without any large reference to his remaining works in Italy or elsewhere.

Now, first, who and what was Mantegna, and what place does he fill in the history of art in Italy? Well, he was a Paduan painter, born in 1431, died in 1506—about the time when Raphael was painting the Belle Jardinière, in this collection. He was a contemporary and brother-in-law of Giovanni and Gentile Bellini: and if you compare his work with that of the two Bellinis, even as very inadequately represented here, you will see that their art has much in common—that they stood at about the same level of historical evolution, and painted in the same careful, precise, and accurate manner of the second half of the fifteenth century. Contrast them, on the one hand, with their immediate predecessors, such as Filippo Lippi and Benozzo Gozzoli (juniors by roughly about 20 years), in order to mark the advance they made on the art of those who went just before them; and compare them, on the other hand, with their immediate successors, such as Raphael, and even their more advanced contemporaries, like Leonardo, in order to see what place they fill in the development of painting.